Sports: Futbol

I’ve always enjoyed sports and I’ve found it’s a good way to get to exercise and interact with locals. After a month or two of relatively sedentary behavior, I figured it was time to locate some nearby recreational sports. My first contact was with a futbol field very near to St. Josephs. Every day (except Sunday) a group of young 20-somethings get together to play full field futbol. About half of the players have shoes and the games start at 5:30 and last until it is too dark to play. The games are fun and the guys really enjoy the game, making it easy for less skilled players (like me). I then found out that a number of local organizations in Kitgum were organizing a futbol tournament and St. Josephs was going to be taking part. I joined the St. Josephs team for practice and training and successfully made the team’s starting lineup as either a midfielder or striker, depending on how many players we had.

The futbol tournament was pretty fun but suffered from poor organization. I was constantly unsure when our next game would happen and I was often called as we were warming up. We played a total of five games, reached the championship match, and won on penalties in the final. I was happy that one of the visiting pharmacists was a futbol player and joined in for the semi-final match. All of the Ugandans assumed he was a futbol prodigy-- after all, he hailed from Spain. I equated it to the way that many Americans assume that African-Americans are all good at basketball.

The final match was very exciting, complete with a huge crowd, DJ with massive sound system, and a nail biting finish. The DJ kept getting overexcited and playing the music so loud that we couldn’t hear the whistle from the referee. I loved the big crowd and they loved the “muzungu” (white person) seemingly out of place on the field. I’ve never experienced crowds as tough as those we faced in the futbol tournament. The jeering from the children was demoralizing when a mistake was made; instead of your typical “boo” they would laugh at you. I never realized how degrading laughing can be, especially coming from a group of 50 children. Regulation time ended with a 2-2 draw and no goals were scored in the overtime. We moved to a penalty shoot-out, which I particularly enjoyed. It involved all the spectators making a ring around the goal and cheering frantically after each shot.

Midway through the tournament, my four year old hand-me-down futbol cleats (from my little brother ) suffered a breakdown. The entire front of one of the cleats tore off. I was unhappy that my foot was becoming soaked (it was wet) and my grip on the field was now erratic, but I couldn’t help but laugh thinking that now I truly fit in. Most of the players play barefoot and the rest have extremely hand-me-down cleats that often have gaping holes and ripped seams. The most ridiculous thing is, I had no doubt in my mind that I would continue playing with these cleats. There was no way I was going to buy a new pair (I’m pretty sure my brother has more he will ‘donate’ to me) and besides, aside from the missing front of the one shoe, the cleats were still 75% perfect. Which is, apparently, good enough for me!