This item from Steve Watson of footyforkids puts things in perspective. makes the rattle and whinging around an Under 13 Boys school team (see earlier post) in the ACT look as silly as it is. We are lucky. Value what you have. Not perfect, can be made better, but so much more than many on this planet!
I didn't know how lucky I was. Until I took a trip that put soccer into perspective
Steve Watson
I recently visited Kenya for a short holiday with my family. We did the usual tourist things - went on safari, sunbathed on the beach and went snorkeling. But I also took along a dozen balls and a number of coaching handbooks to give to a school for orphaned children on Kenya's south coast.
Getting to know the orphan boys in Kenya by talking about soccer.
A warm welcome
I was greeted by the whole school - about 200 boys and girls aged from four to fourteen. They sang some songs and read poetry to me before the head teacher took me on a tour of the facilities.
Facilities is, perhaps, the wrong word. The classrooms were open huts with earth floors, upon which were a few scruffy desks. The small room that the younger children retired to for one hour every day was unbelievably hot and stuffy. The toilets were open holes in the ground.
The children slept in mud huts and none of the beds had mosquito nets. I was told the children rarely caught malaria, which was fortunate as treatment costs the equivalent of $150 - a vast sum in a country where unskilled laborers earn just $10 a month. It's not hard to imagine what happens to most of the orphans who are unlucky to catch this killer disease.
But despite this apparent hardship, the children appeared happy and were very keen to show off their soccer skills.
The pitch was like a bomb site
So the head teacher picked two teams (boys only - girls were not allowed to play) and we went to the pitch. It was a small patch of bumpy, hard-baked earth studded with big rocks. The goalposts were made from tree branches.
As soon as the whistle blew, the children were soon showing me some quite amazing ball skills. They were controlling the ball with one touch, passing across the pitch, dribbling around the opposition players (and the rocks) and shooting with great power. This was made even more impressive when considering none of them wore boots or trainers.
I shuddered as they slide tackled each other on the concrete-hard ground and cringed when they kicked a rock instead of the ball.
Many players played with bare feet on a pitch covered in small rocks and stones.
The children played non-stop for 40 minutes or so before the teacher called a halt. I didn't see one foul or hear one player complaining "no-one will pass to me" or "the teams aren't fair". They played very competitively, but never stopped smiling.
I asked the teacher if the children were taught how to play soccer. He told me they had a 'coach' and even a team that played other schools within walking distance. The coach, he said, would be very grateful to receive the coaching books I had brought with me.
I gained the impression that soccer was more than a game for these children. It was a way of expressing themselves - the only way they could enjoy success and escape the harsh realities of everyday life.
Providing these children with a simple thing like a ball was a humbling experience.
Humbling
My visit to this Kenyan school was humbling and I hope to return there with some more balls, some kit (the children are big fans of English Premiership teams) and portable goals. Maybe even some trainers.
Count your blessings. Be grateful for green grass, cones and kids who have eaten properly. Not everyone is so fortunate.