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ORPHANS FIND FAMILIES WHEREVER THEY CAN
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Like many sport-loving Americans, I'm a little
embarrassed about our country. We failed to qualify for the World Cup
tournament of soccer, which happens every four years.
Iceland (population 334,000) qualified. Uruguay (population 3.5
million) qualified, Croatia and Costa Rica (population 4 million each)
qualified. United States (population 325 million)-LOSERS!
Out of 325 million people we couldn't find 11 guys who could
beat Iceland's 11 best? Even San Francisco has twice as many people, and we
can play all year round!
Anyway, that's why I adopted Mexico as my team. Not only did
they qualify, they beat defending champion Germany in their first game of
the tournament, 1-0, setting off huge celebrations not only in Mexico but in
many parts of LoserWorld (the U.S.) as well.
Now that I had a team in the mix, I naturally scheduled my
annual trip to Casa de la Esperanza, an orphanage in Tijuana that we help
support, to coincide with a crucial game of the tournament, which occurred
last Wednesday. I was looking forward to watching our team win again and
clinch a berth in the final 16 (out of the original 32 qualifying teams).
Not only that, but I'd be watching with the kids at the
orphanage. They might not have parents, but they have a country, and they
have a team. That's not an even trade, but it's something, and that's what
sports is all about.
The game, against powerful Sweden, began at the ungodly hour of
7 a.m. An ancient television was rolled out to the cafeteria, plugged in,
and a miraculously clear picture appeared. The big black vertical line that
ran through part of the screen was shrugged off, as are most things in the
orphanage.
The kids filed in right at game time, bleary eyed but excited.
The big kids sat on the floor, the little kids on laps. Banners were hung,
flags were flown, and green, white and red sprinkled donuts were passed
around.
The game began and the first half was a colossal bore. 0-0, or
nil-nil, as soccer aficionados like to say.
I'm a certified sports nut, but watching soccer isn't at the
top of my list, like it is for most of the world. The scoreless first half
confirmed my definition of score-deprived soccer action as "one big
disappointment after another."
But the kids were fired up, because even a tie would send
Mexico into the Round of 16. We all filed out and onto a dilapidated
concrete field, where a halftime game between the volunteer kids from the
U.S. and the Mexican orphans would be held.
It was quickly apparent why the U.S. didn't qualify. The
orphans smoked us, 4-0.
We might have done better if my coaching attention hadn't been
diverted by looking at the wall that the orphanage was building around the
perimeter of its property. It's a new requirement from the Mexican agency
that regulates orphanages.
"It's designed to keep out Americans who don't have proper
documentation," the director of the orphanage said with a big smile on
his face. "And even better," he added, noting the fundraising that
was going on, "Americans are paying for it!"
In truth, it's designed to protect the orphanage from the slums
that surround it. But he sure was enjoying the moment.
With the U.S. thoroughly humiliated, from both the game and the
wall, we trudged back in for the start of the second half. Things got
immediately worse, as Sweden scored three quick goals. With a loss, and with
a Germany win over South Korea (played simultaneously in another venue),
Mexico would be eliminated from the Round of 16.
Surprisingly, the orphans remained cheery. They were with their
family, their country, their team. They would win or lose together, and
that's all that mattered. They were just happy to be there with each other.
In the end, Mexico lost, 3-0, to a clearly superior (for the
day) Swedish team. While I was lamenting the sub-par effort from my new
Mexican affiliation, the orphans gathered around a cell phone to follow the
action of the Germany-South Korea battle, where Germany was heavily favored
to win.
In an upset for the ages, South Korea scored two goals in the
last few minutes, winning 2-0. The orphans went wild, and so did I. Despite
a horrible performance, Mexico would move on.
"MEXICO, VAMANOS," I shouted, hoping I had the right
word for "Let's go." Apparently I did, because I got high-fives
all around. We were in it together, the orphans and me. We were family, at
least for the day.
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