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The Land Cruiser lurched uncomfortably from side to side as we lumbered down the badly rutted dirt road. It was an ordinary June night in Arusha, Tanzania, except for one thing--the World Cup. The biggest sporting event in the world was going on and people all over our city were gathered in pubs and restaurants, clubs and living rooms to watch the games, hosted for the first time on this very continent. What caught my eye as we bounced along was the tiny roadside snack shop with the plastic chairs set out on the dirt in front, semi-circled around a small television that flickered the event into the dark, cold (it's winter here) night. Eager faces, lit by the screen, followed every move with passionate attention to detail. The World Cup is a big deal. And it means a lot to Africa. Everyone from Desmond Tutu to Nelson Mandela and Emmanuel Adebayor has commented on how much football, and this tournament in particular, inspires young Africans. It's huge. A couple of nights later, I'm jammed into the side room of our local sports club watching the United States jump to the top of their group, beating Algeria and qualifying for the next round. The club is in a happy state of raucousness as the main room is broadcasting England vs. Slovenia on big screens, while smaller screens keep that room abreast of the US advance as well. I was delighted with the results of both games. The United States deserved their win, having performed admirably thus far and gaining the respect of hard to impress global football fanatics. My passport says I'm an American and I was pleased for the US side. I lived in England for four years and have an undying love for that nation, so the night couldn't have been better, according to me. But my 20 year old son felt differently about it. He just couldn't get stoked for the US. I thought it was because he doesn't really feel American, having grown up most of his life on other continents. But that wasn't it. "The US just has so much money," he said. "It's hard to be excited for a place that can afford to get better and better. But that's not really the thing. The thing is this... Look at those guys," he said, indicating the US team. "If football doesn't work out for them, every one of them has a hundred other opportunities in life. And look at these guys on these teams from Algeria or Ghana or any other struggling nation. Football is their one break in life. Their one break. Man, I just want them to do well." Like I said, I was totally delighted for the States and the win tonight that takes them into the next round. But I knew just exactly what my young man of a son meant. (And if you'd like to hear a little of how we're using football to reach kids at risk in this African city, hop on over to the Wild Hope blog here)
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Comments
Hi Lisa-
Your son is a wise man. I watched the first half of last weekends Denmark vs. Cameroon game with my husband, sister-in-law and mother-in-law, all who are from Cameroon. When Cameroon made the first goal not long into the game, you'd think my family was just told they won a million dollars. But when Denmark followed suit with a goal to tie the game, they were so disappointed, we actually had to stop watching the game. Being the optimistic American that I am, I wanted to keep watching the game because I still had hope Cameroon could score again and maybe win this thing. But no, we changed the channel and then my family went on to talk about what was likely happening in Cameroon at that very moment. Police would be deployed to the homes of the players in order to protect them as much as possible from the mobs of angry fans who might come to do some damage. The world cup is much more than a series of games; it's people's pride.
Pride, yes. In good and bad ways. Also, national spirit, unity, cause for celebration. I loved the way businesses would close in Portugal, (as they will today!) when the national team played in the European or World Cup. I loved the way we would dance in the streets with our neighbors after a win, old women banging pots and pans together on their balconies.
But the part I love best is the way in inspires and sense of "anything is possible." I love to see hope planted, like a seed, in the hearts of kids in developing nations. It spawns so many good things.