The team started showing up to the office around 11 and it was a chaotic hour of handing out uniforms, and finding cleats/shinguards in the right sizes to lend to the people that needed to borrow some gear. Our light blue unis had numbers on the jerseys AND shorts, but not all of them had matches. I ended up with 25 on my back, just like in college, and 4 on my shorts. Pretty cool. We had ordered food from a Fritanga (street food stand that sells "fritos"- chicken, plantains, and coleslaw-esque salad wrapped in a banana leaf and put in a plastic bag) but it never showed up. I called to find out what happened, and they thought we had cancelled the order for some reason but told us they could have it ready in two hours. We didn't have that kind of time. Very typical of Nica life, there was some miscommunication along the way, and we had to improvise. Once we finally had all of our gear we walked as a group (21 in total) to the market to pick up some makeshift lunches and hop on a public bus heading out to Catarina.
A playlist Kelly, really? Toto, we are NOT in Kansas anymore. All 21 of us crammed on to this seemingly already full school bus, and clung to the metal bars on the ceiling to steady ourselves. Thinking back, it seems a little unnecessary that we did that considering how solidly squished we were. If the bus had stopped short, we weren't going anywhere. I was towering over a group of three women who were sharing one seat. The one closest to the window was reading, and looked surprisingly serene given her environment. The woman in the middle had a giant basket of vegetables in her lap that she was surely going to sell wherever her destination was, and the woman in the aisle had a white towel in her lap and it took me about 25 minutes into the trip before I realized she was holding a puppy inside that towel. Well this was surely different than any away game trip I have ever experienced. Usually I have two coach bus seats all to myself, a pillow, a blanket, my kitty and my iPod bumping jams. I always push trying to play HotSeat and discourage all the nerds on the team from trying to do their work on the bus. That seems silly to me now. (Not the HotSeat part, just a quiet, and comfortable busride with plenty of space) Who needs it?
We were dropped off at the entrance to Catarina, and started walking through the small town to get to the field. It reminded me of a mini-Granada. Larkin asked me if I would mind playing forward since our team already has many defenders. I told her I would, but I couldn't promise anything spectacular. Especially considering I haven't played in a real full-sided game in a lonnnnggg time. The field was bumpy, muddy, and not ideal, but a field nonetheless. After about another hour of "warming up"/waiting around for the other team to show up, we finally got the game started about half an hour later than the scheduled time (2pm) Our starting line-up huddled together before taking our positions, and I was expecting someone to make a brief pump-up speech but instead Abigail led us all in a prayer thanking God for the opportunity to play together. I started at left forward and was quickly reminded of a few things- 1. There are few things that can make me completely forget about everything going on around me and just live for the moment, but soccer is one of them (and as much as I loved watching my team play game after game and loved cheering from the bench, being on the field is a whole different story) 2. I have a bit of a short-temper, exacerbated by bad refereeing. and 3. Some people think soccer is boring because the games are so long and the goals are few and far between, but the feeling of battling back and forth over and over and over and FINALLY scoring after such a concerted team effort is one of the most exciting things to watch and experience in the world. Oh, and 4. I have no offensive "moves"
The other team struck first. They were aggressive and had some speed demons up front. We weren't winning balls out of the air, we weren't talking on defense, we were lackluster and disorganized. I was trying to talk a lot, but struggling to choose a language. It was some serious Spanglish if I've ever heard it. "Talk on defensa!" "Man on, lleva.." "Aqhere!" or "Herequi!" It's very tricky to speak a foreign language when you're in the heat of the moment and playing a game that you've played your entire life in your native language. Luckily, my teammates got the jist and we picked up some speed. I think you can pretty much communicate anything on the field with some sort of shout and body gesture. About 15 minutes after their goal, my friend Samari ripped a shot from center mid that the keeper deflected but couldn't grab hold of. I sprinted to it, shielded the ball from the keeper's hands and was able to get a measly cross off. Leticia (who used to play on the Nicaraguan women's national team) was in the exact right spot to finish it in the back of the net. ¡Gooooool! Oh, it felt good. I had many more opportunities in the rest of the half to up the score, but couldn't channel my inner Ellery Gould if my life depended on it.
Second half, I was switched to center mid. It was a bit of a relief, since passing is definitely more of a forte of mine rather than shooting. Still, I was in the middle of the action instead of my comfortable positions on the outside. I noticed that almost everyone on the field had lost some steam after halftime, so I was gaining some false confidence when I could trap the ball out of the air uncontested and take time to turn and dish it upfield. Try as we might, all of our shots kept sailing wide, high, or into the hands of the keeper. There were also many questionable offsides calls, which as a defender is one of my favorite rules of soccer, but playing on the other side of things was very frustrating. I definitely yelled at the ref a few times in my horrendous heat of the moment Spanglish, but that didn't accomplish anything. Finally, with about 8 minutes left in the game Leticia gave me a beautiful slotted pass that I was ready to launch on net. Instead, I slipped in the muddy goal mouth and ended up making a dinky little pass to Jessica, who then launched the ball in to the goal. Wooooooooooo! The whistle blew a few minutes later and we were victorious, muddy, sweaty, and so alive.
We had to rush back to catch a bus back to Granada. But we missed it. So we had to catch a bus that was going to Masaya that could drop us off somewhat close to Granada. From there, one of the girls waved down a pickup truck and 15 of them climbed into the bed of the truck. (Hitchhiking is very common practice here) Larkin, Mady, Flaca, Helen, Jessica, Leticia and I decided to wait for another mode of transportation since surely if one more person had joined them, it was a disaster waiting to happen. Juana pointed out a square foot of free space and told me they had room for one more and motioned for me to hop in. Thanks, but no thanks! In case you haven't noticed Juana, my legs are longer than most people's entire bodies in this country and I don't think I will fit into that inch of space that you so generously saved for me. Somehow they all made it back to Granada in one piece, and the rest of us arrived a bit later in a bus.
It was an experience and a half and I wouldn't have wanted to spend my Sunday any differently. Besides the logistics, it was just like any other away game I have played. Bonding with teammates during the travel time, changing into our uniforms together in the locker room (or rather the dug out of a baseball field) pats on the back for good tries, a bit of yelling for the mistakes, and joint celebration for goals. Though I was not expecting the pre-game prayer, I realized I don't take enough time to appreciate how lucky I am to be playing this sport. Oh how I've missed it.
I think I'm going to be stuck playing forward or midfield for the rest of the season. I hope they don't expect two assists out of me every time. Pretty sure that was just beginner's luck. Or maybe I'm wearing lucky shorts :)
Amor, paz, y fútbol
KPope
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