It is a favorite ICS tradition to host a friendly soccer (football) competition between staff and students. I was recruited for the female staff game, but declined out of fear: I have never played soccer before. Honestly, I have not.
I only know you're not supposed to touch the ball with your hands. Which seems so ridiculous to me...as in, if the ball is coming for my face, I'm supposed to hit it back with my forehead...yeah, that makes perfect sense. I suppose I'm too conditioned for American football!
In the course of the evening, though, I changed my mind. Partially because this is my only chance to do this and I want to milk these last 3 weeks for all they're worth. Also because I don't get much physical exercise these days: my sense of safety precludes my running around the neighborhood, and I don't get to the pool very often. Soccer seemed tame enough.
Right, so I changed my mind and showed up for the game in shorts and tennies...blissfully unaware that the rainy season has converted our pitch (field) to a mudfest. My students were talking smack from the moment they stepped out. As if it was difficult to guess, I'm not very good at smack talk, so I think I scraped the following together:
"Oh, yeah? Well...I know American football and I'm going to body block you. Yeah. So there....Oh, and I control your grades, so be careful." I know, right? Real smooth, Miss Maggie.
A couple of the boys gave me a quick tutorial on how to kick using the top bit of your foot and not the actual ends of the toes (who knew?!) and how to pass using the inside of your foot. I practiced passing back and forth then took a shot at the untended goal. It went in and all the younger kids (Grades 2-5) that had gathered for the game cheered for me. It was cute, but the real work was just starting.
I wish I had a good memory and could recount all the times I slipped on the mud, or watched a ball sail right past me, or struggled to catch up with my students as they chased all over the field. It was humbling to be sure. I got a couple good passes and discovered that if I scream at the person with the ball as they're getting ready to kick, they get flustered. I don't know if they do that here in Nigeria, but I put my American-football-cheering lungs to good use. It worked a couple of times.
Bottom line: I got my butt kicked by my students. It doesn't bother me, though, because it was actually fun. The ladies on my team were hilarious and encouraging and some of them were REALLY INTO IT. I smashed into a few of my students, got stepped on many times, and took a direct shot to my right kidney (that was fun). The best part was when one of my students baited me into charging her, and at the last second, stepped out of the way for a MALE student waiting on the sideline to completely sideswipe me. I'm going to have a killer bruise on my shin...can't wait for the battle scars to show up in time for graduation!
In the end, we lost 2-1, with the students' winning goal scored in the last 10 seconds. We celebrated with them, had a good laugh, and headed back to class.
Side note: When a very white girl exerts a very large amount of energy in a country very close to the equator with a very high level of humidity, her face becomes very red. I'm pretty self-conscious of my athletic abilities as it is, but imagine my horror at all the small children (and there were SO many) gathered around me after the game, pointing and giggling: "Miss Maggie what's wrong with your face?" "Miss Maggie you look like a lobster." "Miss Maggie, will your face stay like that?!" (and my personal favorite: "Miss Thomas, you were terrrrrrible!") I assured them my face was just part of being as white as I am, and while they believed me, they still stared at me like an exhibit in the zoo.
It was a fantastic afternoon, and while I may or may not be able to get out of bed in the morning, it was so so so worth it.
9 years ago
Wish we could have been there!!
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