Our game was supposed to start at 8:30. We figured on getting there an hour early to watch the other games so the kids can get an idea of just what they got themselves in to. As the time arrived to leave we had a minor problem arise: We had no vehicle to take us. This would be not be a problem normally, we would just wait for our truck to come back from whatever work it was doing and then take us. I had called the driver, and he assured me things were fine and they’d be back shortly.
The problem is that culturally here, no matter how bad things are, it would be shameful to tell somebody how bad things actually are. I’ve visited people in the hospital that have been largely unresponsive and when I ask them how the pain is they say it is so small they don’t even know its there. So when the driver said he’d return in a few minutes with the truck, what he should have said was that he was broken down an hour outside of town and you should send help.
So as we patiently waited I soon realized that I would be faced with the problem of finding a minibus on a Saturday morning (not easy in our edge of town) and then fitting 24 kids onto it. The second part was not as worrisome to me because I’ve been on minibuses with 24 adults when they’re meant for only 15. So after chasing down a minibus we finally get everybody on board and try to pursuade the driver to drive fast but don’t take up all 3 lanes weaving in and out of cars/bikes/goats.
We arrived late, and by late I mean they were calling our team and saying it was last chance before a forfeit. As the team was taking the court for the tip-off I was going over in my mind all things sports movies were telling us we needed for a victory. Rag-tag underdogs? You bet it. Getting to the big game amidst sabotage/insurmountable odds? That’d be us! A rousing pregame speech about character and integrity and playing with the heart of a champion? Signed, sealed, and deli---
NO! Not delivered! I forgot the speech! I didn’t have any time for the last minute pointers and story about climbing the mountaintop and seeing the promised land! This was a bad sign. A very bad sign! The girls took the court for the 10-minute first half and by the time the whistle blew we were losing 18-0. I thought to myself that this is playing right into our hands. No worries, now we have another ingredient that all great sports movies need: We’re losing by a really big number at halftime. All that’s needed is change our uniforms, bring in the dog to play, and give a heart-stirring halftime speech about when I was a kid and how my dog died or I survived leukemia or I avenged the death of my mentor by killing the evil Darth Maul--- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NO HALFTIME?!? You just keep switch sides and keep on going?
Just as quickly as I was beginning to think that we were actually the other team is somebody else’s sports movie the game ended with the girls dropping the first round 34-0. That’s a big old goose egg. And while the boys didn’t end much better, at least they made it a fight and held the other team 12-4.
If you think that’s the end of the story, have hope. We had 6 more games to go. Even though the shirts and hats we all got as uniforms said “tournament” it really should have been called a league. There were 8 boys teams and 8 girls, each with 12 kids. The games were 20 minutes and were on shortened courts with 8 foot high hoops. This made the girls games a little more doable and the guys really exciting to watch. We got 7 games in all, one against each other team. And while the boys side was a fairly good mixture in the standings, the girls side looked a little different. There was about as much parity as there is in the NFL. The best team finished a triumphant 7-0 and didn’t allow a single point scored against them. And our girls, where did they finish? Unfortunately they were the Detroit Lions / Cleveland Cavaliers / Pittsburg Pirates Seattle Mariners of the tournament and finished 0-7.
The highlight of the girls time though was always rooting for the boys, who we always arranged to play right afterwards. What my team lacked in experience—EVERY other team I talked to practices year round and has several levels in their program, more like a basketball club—my boys more than made up for in pure athleticism. They were able to out-run and out-hustle almost every other team to their advantage, and it made fun games and the girls cheered enthusiastically the whole 20 minutes. They finished a modest 2-5, tied for 6th place. And they definitely improved along the way. What was hard is that while we won two games we lost another 2 more by only ONE point. We just as easily could have been the breakout sensation that captured the attention and affection of all the fans at the games (an important ingredient for our sports movie).
We arrived at the final week of games and I started counting all the pieces that needed to be in place for our sports movie. We had the team of players nobody else wanted (literally), we had the lowly humble beginnings with zero talent, we had the bad start followed by continued improvement, our musical montage played in my head (“I Just Want To Celebrate” – by Rare Earth) as I pictured each of our games, the team playing better each time as the crowd slowly pulls to our side. We even had a non-intimidating name. The girls were the Margaridas, which is, I think, a flower. All I know is every time somebody said it I was craving salt and lime. They boys were named the Bears, which could have been intimidated, except we were up against the likes of the Dragons, the Jackals, and the Tiger Sharks. The only thing we were lacking we soon found when we got to the courts: an arch-rival!
The girls played first and as they got on the court, they we met with sneers and jeers from the other team. All season long we were facing several disadvantages outside of what I have already laid out. We were often walking several miles in the heat to get to the games, often we left early in the morning before eating breakfast, and we were easily identified as the team without shoes. Because so few of the kids had good shoes other than flip flops they were often playing barefoot or swapping shoes during substitutions.
As if this wasn’t enough, the other team was starting with comments about how the girls were ugly because the don’t have expensive hair extensions or jeering them about their lack of shoes or dusty skin from walking to the games. I’m not even kidding. I had more than a few words for the other coach after the game. And while I expected the girls to more or less give up after a few quick points from the other team, we managed to score our real first points of the season (the others that had gone it were seriously intended to be passes). Eight points we scored, in fact. And just when we were coming back, the whistle blew and we lost 8-11.
But, just like a good sports movie, this one had a feel good ending. The girls were so thrilled to have scored so many points for the first time and made the game so close that when the ref signaled the end the of the game they stormed the court and celebrated and then they all mobbed me in a group hug and we danced and celebrated. I secretly think they were also celebrating that they didn’t have to come play basketball anymore, but I’d have taken anything at that point.
Once the girls finished celebrating and cleared the court, it was time for the boys to get their turn. And as their story too would be incomplete without a villain, they to took to the court to discover this last game would be against a team we had lost to by 1 point just a few games ago. They knew we had gotten better and were ready for a battle. The other team made attempts to step on their toes and ask during the breaks in the game why our kids’ parents weren’t in the stands. On top of that, I noticed the other team using two kids that had followed us once during a practice asking if they could help because they were 14 and too old to play in the tournament anymore.
Come halftime we were losing 2-7. We needed some magic and quick thinking. After an Oscar-worthy halftime speech by yours truly and some crafty lineup changes we pulled back into it and managed to go ahead by one score to make 12-11. After a timeout I decided we would just hold the ball to burn out the clock. That strategy worked, and when the whistle sounded the boys and the girls took storming to the court celebrating our narrow victory.
And so the boys, like any good sports movie, got the victory in the end. But as you know, every truly great sports movie has an even greater victory that they are almost more proud of than the real thing. One of the orphanages decided to have a kid with AIDS be on the team as it would be a good diversion for him. Well, we had our own “Rudy” moment the final week when he got some playing time and scored one of our baskets. We had our own “Remember the Titans” moment as the other kids, who had disparaged us and seen us as impossible and outcast, watched us win that final game and celebrate as friends and leave with our heads held high.
The kids too, having known this all along, knew that winning was never the most important thing. They each and every week played will energy and excitement and loved this opportunity that none of them had every had before. And none of them ever get downtrodden because of their circumstances or lack of shoes or walking in the sun or the fact that they’ll never have their own “Field of Dreams” moment. But, most importantly for me, my kids, after we got home the last week, asked if they could pray and thank Jesus for the tournament and our safety and the fun time they had during all of it. And I don’t know if they made a movie for that moment yet. That one gets to be part of our story.
A snapshot of our boys team. My picture of the girls team didn't turn out.
The boys and girls that played from our orphanage. Top row (L to R): Isaque Pequeno, Estela, Ronilda, TJ. Bottom: Ofeita, Canito, Belson, Atija.
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