Futbol

A word of caution to my current and future self, and also to anyone whom this may be applicable: do not play 2 hours of beach soccer with 13-16 year old boys and expect to be able to walk or move at all for the next 3+ days..

Every night in front of our hotel, all of the local kids get together to play an informal game of beach soccer. I’ve been tempted to join once or twice before, but haven’t had the energy or desire to play, up until yesterday. Niko and I went on a walk in the evening to a nearby surf spot to check out the waves, before deciding that it was a little too messy to get in. As we were heading back, we encountered Dorian, our French friend, and some of the local boys getting ready to play. I had mentioned to Dorian one day that I grew up playing soccer and he’s been hounding me to play with them ever since. As Niko and I approached them after our walk, all of the boys were lounging lazily in the street, eating ice cream and drinking Coca Cola, so I assumed (wrongly, I found out later) that it would be be a casual game. No one with the intention of playing well slugs their daily sugar intake in

one sitting right before running for an hour and a half straight. I quickly got ready and headed down to the beach, to the surprise of all of the kids and everyone at the hotel. Girls don’t play soccer here so they were pretty shocked when I went down and started juggling with them. We messed around for a little bit and then it was game time. Any pretenses I had of an easy game were immediately shattered within minutes. The boys did not go easy on me (to which I’m grateful for-that’s always an issue playing soccer with guys) and soon I was dripping in sweat, practically dry heaving in between plays and covered in black sand from the beach, literally from head to toe. Despite being “fuera de forma” as I kept saying, I played well enough for it to become the talk of the town afterwards, as I’m now told. Tony, the hotel manager said all of the kids were buzzing from the evening, talking about the gringa who plays soccer. Local legend has it she’s not half bad either (and that’s she really cool and fun and….).

Despite truly not being able to walk normally for a couple days post game because I was so sore, it was a blast. I found myself lost in the game, smiling, laughing, and taking in all of the fun that comes with playing pick up, losing track of time until the setting sun forced us off the beach. I’m so glad I grew up playing soccer because of how universal it is. Basically anywhere you travel, you can count on finding a pick up game somewhere. Maybe I’m just sentimental for the sport I grew up playing, but I really feel like it connects people. Whether you’re good or not, it transcends race, gender, age, life circumstances and language barriers. All of it falls away until all you’re left with are laughs and smiles and whooping and hollering. It’s no wonder why it’s called the beautiful game.

It’s Dorian and Meghan’s last night here so Dorian is egging me on to play with them again tonight. It took me 3+ days, a massage, 6 ibuprofens and a lot of recovery time to feel back to normal so we’ll see if I make it down there. Knowing me, however, I’ll take one look at the game and bolt down there. Even after all these years not playing regularly, I still can’t resist it.