Say hello to the newest female professional soccer player in Liberia. Yes, that’s me. I had my first game Sunday, against a village/town called Paynesville on the other side of Monrovia (it was a friendly match - the season starts ‘soon’, but I have yet to pin down what exactly that means). Allow me to elaborate, in yet another entry concerning the beautiful game:
There’s a field near the entrance to the port where we saw some women with soccer balls the first week we were here. Intrigued, we introduced ourselves, and they invited us to come play with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Having no idea who they were, we showed up the next Tuesday. It turns out that there’s actually a professional women’s league here, and this is one of the teams. It’s financed by the port, hence the name Pro Anchor. After the first practice I filled out a form and they took a picture, and now I’m on the team.
Last Sunday I was told to be on the side of the road at 2pm, and lo and behold, a taxi drove up at 2:15. I was shuttled inside with my friend Lucy, whom I took along as my manager (i.e. water-bottle holder and fellow stare-attracter; she also provided a good deal of entertainment for the fans as the main topic of discussion on the sidelines was whether or not her curly hair was real). We were taken to a schoolhouse somewhere downtown where the rest of the team trickled in, and they handed out uniforms (long-sleeved, in 1239847 degrees, no big deal) and cleaned my cleats for me (the purpose of this was unclear) as we waited for the bus. The bus arrived; a rusty hippie van that comfortably seats maybe 12 people, 14 uncomfortably. We counted 27 passengers when we left, and picked up three more on the way. Two were hanging out the door. I would have felt unsafe except that I was wedged so tightly amongst my teammates and various coaches (I think there are 9 of them) that we could have driven into a concrete wall and I wouldn’t have budged.
We finally arrived in Paynesville at 4:30, for a 4:00 game. We parked in the middle of a village and were escorted by the villagers another half-mile through huts, other soccer games and banana fields to find the field: A rolling sand dune enclosed by weeds. The penalty areas and stick goals were on the weedy bit, so they were a few feet higher than the rest of the field, making life difficult for the goalies. There weren’t any lines, but there were very enthusiastic linesmen with branches that they waved when they thought the ball might be out of the bounds, usually after someone got tangled in the brush or body-slammed a spectator - of which there were plenty, as the entire village had turned out for the game. They crowded the sidelines, including behind the goals where they were frequently hit by shots gone askew. There was a contingency of children who gathered on one corner of the field and scattered every time the play approached their perch, only to return when the coast was again clear. The fans participated fully in the pre-game and halftime talks, crowding the huddle and listening solemnly to the coaches’ admonitions, and shaking the hands of their favourite players.
Surprisingly, no one twisted or broke anything, and the play was quite competitive despite the conditions. I was very well taken care of; the coaches made sure no one tried to marry or buy Lucy and me, as per the usual offers, and when I was pushed by an opposing player she received multiple threats from my enraged teammates (‘You kick her, I kick you! You kick her, I kick you!’ – I tried to convince them that I really wasn’t upset). The final score was 3-0, Pro Anchor victorious, and the white girl (me) scored one goal and had an assist (thank you, bumpy unpredictable ground in front of the goal), enough to garner her a following of at least 849375 scantily clad child fans wanting to shake hands and tell her their name. This made it difficult for her to manoeuvre her way through the throngs and into the car of the club’s President, but she made it eventually and he very kindly escorted her and Lucy all the way back to the port.
Oh, the glorious randomness of it all…
There’s a field near the entrance to the port where we saw some women with soccer balls the first week we were here. Intrigued, we introduced ourselves, and they invited us to come play with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Having no idea who they were, we showed up the next Tuesday. It turns out that there’s actually a professional women’s league here, and this is one of the teams. It’s financed by the port, hence the name Pro Anchor. After the first practice I filled out a form and they took a picture, and now I’m on the team.
Last Sunday I was told to be on the side of the road at 2pm, and lo and behold, a taxi drove up at 2:15. I was shuttled inside with my friend Lucy, whom I took along as my manager (i.e. water-bottle holder and fellow stare-attracter; she also provided a good deal of entertainment for the fans as the main topic of discussion on the sidelines was whether or not her curly hair was real). We were taken to a schoolhouse somewhere downtown where the rest of the team trickled in, and they handed out uniforms (long-sleeved, in 1239847 degrees, no big deal) and cleaned my cleats for me (the purpose of this was unclear) as we waited for the bus. The bus arrived; a rusty hippie van that comfortably seats maybe 12 people, 14 uncomfortably. We counted 27 passengers when we left, and picked up three more on the way. Two were hanging out the door. I would have felt unsafe except that I was wedged so tightly amongst my teammates and various coaches (I think there are 9 of them) that we could have driven into a concrete wall and I wouldn’t have budged.
We finally arrived in Paynesville at 4:30, for a 4:00 game. We parked in the middle of a village and were escorted by the villagers another half-mile through huts, other soccer games and banana fields to find the field: A rolling sand dune enclosed by weeds. The penalty areas and stick goals were on the weedy bit, so they were a few feet higher than the rest of the field, making life difficult for the goalies. There weren’t any lines, but there were very enthusiastic linesmen with branches that they waved when they thought the ball might be out of the bounds, usually after someone got tangled in the brush or body-slammed a spectator - of which there were plenty, as the entire village had turned out for the game. They crowded the sidelines, including behind the goals where they were frequently hit by shots gone askew. There was a contingency of children who gathered on one corner of the field and scattered every time the play approached their perch, only to return when the coast was again clear. The fans participated fully in the pre-game and halftime talks, crowding the huddle and listening solemnly to the coaches’ admonitions, and shaking the hands of their favourite players.
Surprisingly, no one twisted or broke anything, and the play was quite competitive despite the conditions. I was very well taken care of; the coaches made sure no one tried to marry or buy Lucy and me, as per the usual offers, and when I was pushed by an opposing player she received multiple threats from my enraged teammates (‘You kick her, I kick you! You kick her, I kick you!’ – I tried to convince them that I really wasn’t upset). The final score was 3-0, Pro Anchor victorious, and the white girl (me) scored one goal and had an assist (thank you, bumpy unpredictable ground in front of the goal), enough to garner her a following of at least 849375 scantily clad child fans wanting to shake hands and tell her their name. This made it difficult for her to manoeuvre her way through the throngs and into the car of the club’s President, but she made it eventually and he very kindly escorted her and Lucy all the way back to the port.
Oh, the glorious randomness of it all…
3 comments:
Great post...
There's a gal named Seren Frost who was with MercyShips I think and she's now in Liberia organizing soccer leagues I think... Perhaps you've bumped into her, but I'm sure someone might know her. Her blog is here: http://lacessport.blogspot.com. I think she also joined a professional team too when she was onboard. It's hard to recall details exactly.
Best Wishes,
Joy
oh my goodness I am reading this at work trying not to laugh at my desk. That's so awesome!!!
hi joy, thanks for the info! i actually did meet seren, she was here a few weeks ago and it turns out that she was playing for this same team when she was here. she even loaned me her shoes to play with :)
Post a Comment