I am starting to feel like I am writing a book with this blog. I felt like these last two weeks should be posted together, as one chapter, because the events of the first week developed in the second. That being said, here is chapter six.
Last week (week six) was very uneventful during the weekdays. The weekend was really awesome, though. On friday, I walked with my parents to Club For-Ever to try to see if I could play on their team. They told us that the soccer people are only there on monday, and that we should come monday at 7 to talk to them.
On saturday, I woke up to an anouncer on TV yelling "GOOOOOOOOOOOOL". I told my family over lunch that I wanted to go out to try to find a pick-up game to jump into. They said that was a good idea. So now I thought alright I'll see you guys later. But they all started getting ready. I didn't really know why, but I went with the flow. They took turns showering and about an hour later, when everyone else was ready we set out together to find me a game.
We were heading to a large open grassy area where people usually play. We walked down some train tracks but I found what I was looking for long before we would have gotten to our destination. Right next to the train tracks was a terrible dirt field, with a bunch of 20 some year old guys playing a game. "Aca!" (here!) My dad came with me to talk to one of them. He explained my situation to the guy and the guy said "sure you can play." I laced up my cleats (that felt good, it had been a while), and hopped into the game. I didn't know who's team I was on, so when I got the ball I just passed to someone else. They had the ball inside of a plastic bag, and I would soon find out why.
The ball went out and the guy my dad talked to came out of goal to clarify things. He started to point to people who were on my team but that was confusing so I just raised my hand and said "Mi equipo." The guys on my team raised their hands and that was that. The game was back on. It was a really cool style of soccer, very tight and quick - technical. I took the ball from one guy and he kicked me very hard in the leg. I looked at him but he wasn't looking at me. I realized that this guy was blind. They had a bag tied over the ball so he could hear it.
I must have scored twenty goals in that game. They called me "magico, buenisimo..." After the game, they called me "Messi of La Plata." I felt honored. They all wanted my phone number and said that they play every saturday there. I was happy to make some soccer friends in my neighborhood.
My family had been watching me for a little while, but they left after maybe 10 minutes. My dad asked me before they left if I knew how to get home and I said yes.
I returned home, and told my family all about the game. I had a birthday party later that night so I needed to come up with a costume. I remembered hearing once the idea of taking a handle mirror and holding it up to people when they ask what you are and saying "I'm you!" I really didn't have anything else, so I went with my mom and Ana to the store to find a mirror. There were mirrors, but none of them had handles. In one store, there was a pingpong paddle set and also a mirror. I said, let's get both of these and I will just tape the mirror onto the paddle. So we did just that, and I did just that.
Some girls in my class picked me up at 11, and we set out for the party. It was a half hour drive, and it was a really fun party. I got home at 5:30 the next morning and went to bed.
On monday of week seven, I walked with my family to Club For-Ever. The club is about 8 blocks away from my house. We walked in and talked to a guy about getting me onto the soccer team for my age group. He talked with my parents for a while and then I heard "Miercoles con botines y ropa para football, aca, a las siete." That was all I needed to hear of that conversation. Wednesday, with cleats, at 7. I gave my mom a high-five on the way out and we walked back home.
On wednesday, I walked with my dad to the club. The same guy we talked to the other day said that today we would only be doing physical training. I got really disappointed. He took us outside and one of the players was waiting for the other players to arrive. We passed this guy on the way in, but I thought he was a coach. We talked for a while, and when I say we I mean my dad and this guy, and waited for a half hour. The other kids were clearly not going to show, so he called one of them and when he got off the phone, he said that there had been a change. It would be a regular practice, not physical training, and that the other players were already at the field. I hopped on the back of his moped and my dad wished me luck.
We got to the field, and it was very dark. The field was a wreck, and my legs were getting wrecked by mosquitos as I talked to the coach. His name was Luiz. All the players were very nice to me. Luiz had us go on a run, and during this I got acquainted with the other players. They all wanted to talk to me and I remembered what it was like on my Force team when Moritz from Germany came for the first time. I was Moritz to these guys. I wasn't nervous, I was just really excited.
We all put our cleats on and split into two teams to start a game. There was literally no light on the field, except the moon. It was very hard to see the ball, let alone the goal. I got the ball once and beat three kids and then the goalie, and kicked it into the open net. The kids were impressed. They said "buenisimo!" and gave me highfives. I looked back to see if the coach was looking. I couldn't tell. The other kids were very good, by far the best I have played with since I have been here. I really wanted to shine, because I wanted to be on their team. I played pretty well, considering I couldn't see. At one point I asked the kid who I rode over with if they usually play in the dark. He pointed to a lit field across the street and said that they usually train over there, but that that field was occupied tonight.
After an hour or so of playing, the coach called us in to talk, but we all kept playing. It was beautiful. None of us could see a thing, but we didn't want to stop. I saw in that instant that I had realized the dream that led me to choose Argentina. I wanted to experience pure soccer. This was it. We didn't need proper goals, only backpacks. We didn't need a proper field, only dirt. We didn't even need light! We didn't speak the same language, and I didn't remember their names, but I felt such a strong bond with them in the way that we love the game. They all wanted my information: facebook, msn, phone number etc. I thought that that was a good sign; that they wouldn't want my info unless they thought I would be around for a while.
The coach told me to come to the club next wednesday at 7, to practice with them again. He told me to make a list with all of my information and bring it to the club tomorrow. I wasn't exactly sure what the deal was. Did I make the team? Is wednesday a try-out? Did the coach even see me play tonight? I had a lot of questions. When my dad and I were approaching our door, I hear "Werner!" It was one of the kids from the team. He talked with my dad for a while and we said bye. When we got inside my dad explained to my mom and I what the kid had said. My dad asked him if I was going to try-out on wednesday or what, and the kid said "No no the coach liked him a lot, he's already on the team." My mom lit up and said "That's it!" "What's what!?" I didn't know what was going on and I asked them to explain. They did, and I felt so incredibly relieved and content.
This was something I accomplished. Ernesto never followed through, as I could tell would be the case. Before, in my house it was all "Ernesto.... options, options, 9 on 9." No. I could tell that my family just didn't know how to go about this, so I finally went online to find the locations of the clubs. I found out that Club For-Ever was close to my house. My family was very supportive of this. I was happy we were on the same page, and much more, I was happy to be on a soccer team - a very good soccer team.
On friday, I went to Julio's apartment to prepare a cheesecake for the AFS reunion on saturday.
On saturday, my family and I went to the reunion. All of the exchange students in La Plata and their families were there, and so were all of the volunteers. It was pretty fun. The next day, we went to visit my mom's mom for lunch.
I didn't have school today, because it is some kind of National no school day thing, so I went with my family to see my team play. I couldn't play myself, because I am not "official" yet. I was excited to see what I had gotten myself into. All of the players on my team and on the other team were very big. It was a different style of soccer. Very fast, and very physical and dirty. There was a lot of tension between the two teams, and a fight almost broke out. There was a police officer sitting at the center line the whole time in case anything went down. I will need to adjust to this, but hey isn't that what foreign exchange is all about?
After the game, my dad and I talked to the coach. He said that this weeks practice was off because my team didn't have a game this weekend. There are an odd number of teams in the league, so this week is my team's week off. He explained to me that soccer games here are very "duro" (that mean's tough and strong) and that with me being a forward, I will be fouled a lot. He wants me to go to the club gym this week to start me on a weight lifting regimen. I can definitely see the sense in that. He also told me that this week he will talk to the club directors about making me official. Hopefully I will be able to play in the next game! Vamos For-Ever!!!!
Verner (as you are now called),
ReplyDeleteI love the pictures of you on FB, looking happy, well, and thoroughly befriended. But nothing takes the place of words, and so I have especially enjoyed hearing your voice as I read your episodic blog-umentary.
Better yet, of course, would be to sit down with you over some mate, but I suppose that will have to wait 'til June (do bring some home with you--some mate, that is).
Now, let me make sure I have this right, Werner: in Argentina, blind men play soccer--with and against sighted men, which is not as absurd as it might seem because in Argentina, sighted men play soccer in the dark.
I sniff a college essay lurking in these richly unexpected circumstances: "The Curious Optics of Argentinian Futbal"; or "Off Sides on the Dark Side of Argentine Soccer." Or "I Hear Soccer Balls Rustling in My Dreams"; or...O.K., I'll stop.
Flourish, Werner. Luv, Mary Kay