My love affair with Football

Sometimes it is so hard to find the courage to allow yourself to be bad at something you were once good at.

Summer Fling

During my childhood summers I would keep a large calendar on my refrigerator, it was full of bright marking indicating the days that I had matches. I would long for the weekend to pass so that Monday’s practice would come and I would be given the opportunity to show the coaches that I should start on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s matches. All day Tuesday and Thursday I would think about the pitch and what it would be like to play that evening. I would get so excited that I would get dressed and ready hours before kick off, just to be sure that I was there on time.

It’s a common misconception that someone who is doing their PhD on football must be a really good player. Truth be told, I have never really been excellent at football, but I have been successful in convincing vast number of people that I was adequate competition. Not by fancy footwork, great aim or accurate crosses, but based purely on aggression and passion. Being dangerous competition and having the other team fear you often is misconstrued with being an amazing player. People treated me like I was a good player and magically I started playing better.

Magic Place

After I finished high school I moved to East Africa in order to pioneer in helping to develop the activities of the Baha’i community. What initially was intended to be a single year turned into 5 years because I decided to stay and doing my university degree in Tanzania and Kenya. I had always been drawn to the idea of playing football through university, and part of me was sad to know that I would not be able to have that experience.

One holiday I went home to visit my family and I came upon the movie, “Bend it like Beckham”. After watching it I decided that I would start a women’s football team. I was so excited I went a bought a football kit, a ball and a pump. When I returned to Kenya I put up notices and talked to people. Our first session had 24 girls! Our second had 12, our third had 6 and our fourth, fifth and sixth was just me. I was so dedicated that I refused to give up. I would kindly request people walking by to come and play with me… eventually I realized that the only people who would play were the men and thus, it only seemed appropriate that I join the men’s squad. I was so scared. I was actually terrified of looking the fool on a pitch full of students that I didn’t know.

I finally came out and told the coach that I wanted to join the team; he had a good laugh and then welcomed me to train with the team. I couldn’t match the boys strength, speed or skills, so I decided what I couldn’t do physically I would make up for with wit, dedication and aggression. Looking back I realize that the first two were okay but the aggression part was a bit daft. Why? The football pitches that we used to play on were not full of grass, they were often grassless and full of rocks, pebbles, sticks and even cows. What normally would be a decent painless slide tackle in Alaska became a very painful dirt burn that tore open my leg and left weepy wounds for weeks.

Stay tuned to find out more about my love affair with football.