(I apologize for the delayed second portion of this blog but have experienced a major crash of our computer due to a missionaries corrupted flash drive. It has been 3 weeks and we are finally up and running with a make shift system that was available here in Africa. new rule- no one touches our computer again!)
Then a yell from the spectators was
heard, “Ole Bruni, get in your boot and get a new ball so the game can begin
again.” And with that, while both teams and a huge crowd of people were
standing at center field, and over 2000 spectators watching, I promptly stated “the
games are over if we cannot find the game ball” and walked over to the canopy
and sat down with the dignitaries. It was a sober moment but all involved got
the feeling I was serious and would not be pushed to dole out new balls every
game because of a community attitude towards theft. There was a buzz over the
whole field and within about 20 minutes, the game ball was handed to me while I
sat under the canopy. It seems as though the parents of the remaining teams hit
the bush and found the ball with the teenage boys on the other side of the
medical center headed out of town with their new football. Game attitude was
restored, spectators once again lined the field and two teams of anxious young
boys and girls were at the center of the field and the game ball dropped by the
“Ole Bruni” to begin the match. There was never another instance that the ball
was missing that day or the next, for the next team slotted to play, gathered
the ball and held it until their match began.
Match after match proceeded with
great enthusiasm by the youth and fans. After each game the teams that had
played, gathered with their support group back on the field and 3 new balls
with a new pump was given to the team that was eliminated and would return to their
villages. A cheer was lead by the
winning team for the eliminated team and they all ran off the field so the next
teams could begin their game. Ten matches in all were played to determine the
two teams that would meet for the championship match to be held the next day
after the older youth finished their games and two teams would play for their age
group championship crown. I remember the missionaries and myself being the last
people to leave the field that night after all of the festivities and marveling
how well the day had gone and the great excitement each primary child had as
they either watched the games or represented their school on the field as a
player. It was 7PM, tired and dusty, we started home with gratitude for the
wonderful day, all of and the sights and sounds experienced, and especially all
of the children’s gleeful faces imprinted in my mind.
Day 2- Up at dawn and over to the
field as helpers relined the field with paint and chalk. The goal post were
fixed again in the correct spots and nets re-hung in anticipation of the 11
games that would be played that day. Game time was to begin at 10AM but already
huge numbers of people and players had begun to arrive. Stands of venders had
appeared all around the field and women and girls already were walking around
with their product for sale on a platter on their head. The local water company
brought bags of water to sell during the day’s event, and the festival was
already underway. Expecting another day in the mid 90’s, many people brought colorful
umbrellas to hold for shade. By 10AM the field was combed for debris, drums
were pounded, and the games began, this time with the older junior high aged
youth. It was quickly realized by the 2800 fans and the missionaries as our referees,
these young men we faster, stronger, and more intense on the outcome of the
game. It brought more challenges and rewards to each game. Each game was
scheduled as a 30 minute non-stop clock game. These teams wore tattered and
torn uniforms handed down from older teams. Still there were 3 teams with no
uniforms so teams would share theirs after playing. Most of these young players
were bare foot also, but some players had real football shoes that were
completely wore out and usually so big for their feet the boy could not keep
them on during the game so would always remove them right before they began
play. It was interesting to watch how they strutted those coveted shoes until
game time.
Match after match became more
intense and physical as the hot sun beat down upon the participants and
spectators. But at each scored goal, the fans would rush the field and cheer
and dance as if this was a nationally televised game. It was sometimes hard to
once again gain control and clear the field to continue the game or for the
next match. But we managed and the ref’s (missionaries) were true examples
throughout the entire day. Even the coaches were more intent and at times
barked at their players and the referees. Some of the matches were decided by
free kicks. This is where the goalie is the only person between win or lose. It
was a fierce completion on the field but with free kicks, all 2800 pairs of
eyes on one young man, you could feel the pressure intensify. On two occasions,
after the limit of 5 attempts by each team to score on the goalie, the winner
was decided by a flip of the coin. Those were tense times as the coin flipped
through the air. You could hear a pin drop while it was rolling in space, but
when it hit the ground, cheers could be heard all the way to Accra I’m sure and
the celebration began. It usually lasted 8 to 10 minutes with dancing and music
and running with all of the team players on people’s shoulders. Sometimes I
would carefully watch the unfortunate team’s reaction and most of the boys were
crying and lying face down on the ground in disbelief of their fate. Only on
one occasion did I see a coach gather his team and help then regain composure
and as a team line up and trot off the field together and humbly wait until the
celebration died down and then as a combined organized team trotted back to
center field for the presentation of balls and the cheer for the eliminated
team.
Finally the match for the JHS teams
to determine the two teams that would battle for the championship had come.
Lined up on each side of the ball at center field were two teams with grit and
determination. One team had just played so were dirty and sweaty while the
other team was fresh with clean jerseys. I observed the coaches as one side
barked at their players and the other side gathered for a team prayer. The game was fast and furious to say the
least. The referees were also tired but maintained their strength for this last
most important match. 30 minutes and no score by either team though there were
several attempts by each team. At the conclusion of the timed match, teams
gathered at one end of the field at the goal posts. It was hard to breathe with
so many people gathered together in a confined area to watch the proceedings. I
felt for the lone goalie standing there barefoot with an oversized old
sweatshirt as his uniform. The best player from the opposing team was to kick the
attempt. No words were spoken as the young men stared at each other before the kick
was made. A mighty eruption was heard as the ball hit the back net and rolled
to the corner. It was pandemonium at best as the defeated goalie was carried
off the field by his teammates. Now the roles turn and the other team’s goalie
walked to the center of the posts. But quick observation said this was not the
boy who played the game for that team. Rules state that the same goalie used in
the match must be used to defend the free kick; this was an outright violation
that both teams understood before the tournament began. Coaches for each team
were in the face of each other and fans were involved as well. It was an all
out riot situation as denials were expressed and cheating was chanted over the
field. I gathered the young boy and quietly asked him if he had played on that
team and particularly the position of the goalie- he said nothing. Again during
all of this upheaval I asked the young boy if he had played the position
throughout the whole game- still no answer and no eye contact. Coaches for each
team were yelling at the boy and our missionaries as they detected the
infraction. I hustled out of the confusion and asked an observer who was on the
side lines close to the goal posts if he had seen any exchange of uniforms between
boys and he confirmed and pointing to one of the coaches, told how he had taken
two boys into the bush and had them change uniforms and sent the previous goalie
home so he could not be detached. My decision was made and I announced the
outcome to the fans and teams- the team had indeed changed the goalie and they
would be eliminated from the tournament. The other team would advance to the
championship game. Oh how there was an eruption by both teams and fans. There
still was confusion and almost rioting on the field as I made my way with the
Elders off the field for cover. Finally after several minutes all realized the “ole
Bruni” had spoken and accepted the verdict.
Once again,the two Primary teams who
had waited for their moment to play their championship game were lined up at
center field and the ball was dropped. It was really great to feel the
excitement and see the primary children playing with all of their hearts. At
the end of regulation play, the score was 1 to 1 and we once again gathered at
the goal posts at one end of the field. After 5 attempts by each team- the
score remained the same. A lofty flip of the coin settled the outcome and a
victorious team was awarded 3 new balls, a pump, and a set of jerseys, while
the less fortunate team was awarded their 3 new balls and a new pump. A cheer
was given to all of the players and a calibration was had by all for the next
10 minutes by fans and players.
The final match time had finally
come after 2 days of nonstop soccer games. All had come down to this final game
that would determine the champion of 19 bush schools. The teams were called to
come to the center of the field. As I stood there I could see a conflict
brewing and knew our time was short for this tournament. ….to be continued……
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