If Even For A Day

The Ivory Coast made their first appearance in the Mundiales this glorious year, 2006. Upon qualifying for this year's competition the Ivory Coast Football Federation addressed a plea to President Laurent Gbagbo:

"The players have asked me to tell you that what they most want now is for our divided country to become one again. They want this victory to act as a catalyst for peace in Ivory Coast, to put an end to the conflict and to reunite its people. This success must bring us together."

I remember well a cold Ohio night where I stood up off a bench and walked slowly to the Ohio State locker room to pack up my bags and head to the bus that was to transport us to the airport to fly back to our New England nest in Kingston, RI. I remember the pain that surfaced in those mens' hearts as they walked away in defeat in the finals of the Atlantic 10 NCAA championships. Confidence and pride brought to tears. Ambition and hope turned to salt crystals on foreheads and cheek bones. I remember thinking that night, "This game just doesn't mean this much to me." I knew upon my return to Rhode Island I would have to withdraw from my classes and say goodbye to my teammates and coaches. Is this game worth crying over? Is this game worth playing for scholarships, or sponsors, or money, or glory? The following night the team got together to detox from the pressure and stress of a long season and to forget about a season that, for many, ended in disappointment. I did not know what my business would be after I dropped out of school but I did not know what my business was playing soccer either. With the passion dying and uncertainty on the rise, I opted for a couple of bowls of weed with my jamaican colleagues and some good 'ole fashion college keg draught sipped from a red plastic cup. Later that night my body rejected the poison I had filled it with and the next morning I woke up to all the hope offered one who was soon to reject all the opportunity offered him by the American university.
If someone would have asked me during this time, "What is soccer?" I might have answered, "It is a war, and one side will win. Hooligans will gather and opposing fans will go as far as death to support the indelible impact their team has had on their lives and children and politics and even their religion. Players are set on pedastols to be worshipped as Rome recognized the gods before commencing the games in the Coliseum." No, there has to be more to life than soccer. I needed justification, I needed affirmation that I was apart of something bigger than myself. What is soccer? Well, the small nation of Ivory Coast have brought to my mind a calm and silence as they respond, "We hope it means peace." I only wish soccer would have responded to me as did my Lord when I asked, "What can you give me?" And perhaps together they say, "Peace, my peace I give to you." Even if just for a day.