This was our third program with Ministerios de Amor in just as many months. We worked with them previously in la Ciudad de México and in Monterrey. While I love running programs anywhere in the world, Mexico is always special. I am proficient in Spanish, which eliminates the language barrier and fútbol is a religion there. Based on two conversations I had early on in the trip, this new city, Guadalajara, would prove to be no different.

I was flagged at customs and forced to send my bags filled with over 45 soccer balls through the X-ray machine. I got to talking with the officer, telling him how we had a free soccer program with a group of children and brought soccer balls as a gift for them afterwards. He asked a few questions about soccer, eventually asking what position I played. I told him the 10, como Leo Messi – his eyes got big. “You played with Messi?” he asked.  “No amigo, the same position,” I joked.

Later in my Uber heading to my apartment from the airport, my driver and I chopped it up for about an hour in traffic about the game – European teams, Liga MX teams, even MLS squads that featured a few household names from El Tri. As I got out of the car and helped with my bags, he proudly pointed to his jersey, an Atlas kit, and bid me farewell. The two biggest teams in Guadalajara are Atlas and Chivas.

I took a day to settle into a new city. It was my first time in Guadalajara, but I felt right at home surrounded by delicious food, warm people, and a generally calm neighborhood.

After a brief nap, I reached out to my MDA contact – Pablo. He had already briefed me to prepare for about 36 participants, so I had arrived with a surplus of equipment.

It was Monday when I landed, but as ordered by Pablo, we would be running a Wednesday session. Much like our program in Iztapalapa, we would split the groups in two with each session lasting an hour long.

The session was about 10 mins away, pretty much on the same main street as my apartment. The 4 blocks would have easily been walkable had it not been for my two bags full of equipment. I called an Uber and quickly loaded the gear in the trunk, hoping to arrive early to prepare soccer balls. Less than 7 minutes later, I was welcomed through MDA’s gate into a tidy front lobby.

An older boy offered his help to prepare equipment, as we moved towards the trademark MDA van located past the lobby and offices, on the playing court. For the better part of 30 minutes, this boy sporting a Vancouver Whitecaps shirt helped inflate all 46 soccer balls. I don’t think he was even planning on participating in the sessions today; he just wanted to help.

As soon as equipment was ready, some younger boys helped set up grids and soccer balls for our active listening drill. As each boy held a soccer ball in their arms, they surveyed the grid and excitedly pointed at the ones they were hoping to win “Ooh I want that one” someone said. “The green Puma one for me!” I heard from another participant. 

Meanwhile, on the side of the court, other younger boys were excitedly unwrapping their new soccer kits. Chivas Guadalajara branded because of course. They were STYLIN. They had matching jerseys, shorts, and I think socks too.

This first session would be with the younger bunch, while the second of the day was with los jovenes. We broke into our first drill with groups of two as the kids excitedly tried to beat their opponent to grab the soccer ball first when commanded to do so. After, we broke into three lines for relay races – teaching the kids stepovers while also fine-tuning their ball control and dribbling skills.

I noticed one boy who had so eagerly helped set up equipment laying down in the corner, away from the kids. “What happened Chico? You don’t want to play?” He shook his head no. We broke back into the drill, but I kept close watch of him, hoping he might perk back up at any moment – as kids do.

After this, we needed some prize winners to decide who would get to choose from the pile of soccer balls first, so we jumped right into mano o cabeza. I asked the kids to repeat the directions, just to test that they were listening. As a new participant entered the arena, one of the boys was kind enough to explain the rules to him as well.

We went through the first round, trying to narrow down about 15 participants to 3 winners to add their names to our list. The kids were hooting and hollering, and the competition was fierce! “Don’t worry, we have another opportunity to win after this vuelta,” I reassured them.

As I looked back to the same corner of the pitch, the boy from earlier was no longer there. Instead, he had inserted himself back into the fold and was hoping to walk away a prize winner. The sadness on his face had been replaced with excitement and an accompanying smile.

For our second round, we played until the final three yet again.

“One more!” the kids chanted. “Okay, but this time we can only have one prize and one winner,” I told them.

Guess who won. The boy! THAT boy. He was going to get a chance to claim his green Puma ball from earlier. I was so happy for him. 

Afterwards, I thanked all the boys for their time, attention and respect. We lined up with the winners from mano o cabeza first and began to distribute prizes. As imagined, the first two to go were the cool Puma balls donated from a friend back in the states. From there, it was kind of just hodgepodge. Some kids went with blue or red soccer balls, while others opted for a smaller ball and a matching drawstring bag.

Either way, they were all leaving with something new besides their new Chivas kits!

As I was packing up stuff and setting up equipment for the second session, one of the boys who had helped me earlier was practicing his juggling. I called for the ball and he passed it my way. I showed him an “around the world” and then moved straight to a neck stall. His eyes grew bigger as the combo progressed. As I caught the ball in my hands, he enthusiastically asked, “¿Me enseñas?”  I nodded before patiently walking him through the basics of the neck stall trick.

These are my favorite moments. One on one with kids who are curious to play, learn and dream. 

At the end of the last session, an older boy was kind enough to help distribute drawstring bags to the younger boys who had chosen them as part of their prize packs. I thanked him for his help as he smiled and told me he would be participating in the second session with the other jovenes. We had about 10 or 11 for our second hour. 

Today’s sessions were both all-boys, a big contrast from our first collaboration with Ministerios de Amor in CDMX which featured two all-girls programs. The older boys were reserved but excited, with many of them eager to show off some of the English they had learned.

Two of the oldest boys were very outgoing – jokesters, but not troublemakers. I enjoyed sharing conversation with both of them throughout the whole session. We broke into two small groups for ball control grids, as I would demo a technique and then let them take over from there.

One of the jokesters could be heard throughout each demo saying, “¡Oh, Messi. He’s like Messi!”

We worked on different types of volleys and passes, while also focusing on our first touch straight out of the air with the chest, thigh, etc. I would pause every once in a while to ask the group why we were working on specific techniques and how they could be applied to in-game situations. For example, the difference between offensive headers and defensive headers, maintaining possession or just clearing our lines. One of the jokesters asserted himself, saying that strong defensive headers also mimicked a header towards goal, which he was absolutely right on.

After we had worked through about 15 minutes of ball control exercises, we broke into a scrimmage. There were 11 of us and the court seemed a bit small, so we tried to decide what would be best in terms of teams. Three teams of four, one suggested. Let’s just do five versus five without goalkeepers, suggested another. 

We ultimately decided on the latter, perching a soccer ball atop a cone that each team would have to knock off in order to score a “goal”. Every now and then, a player would handle the ball and a penalty kick would be called where the kicker would stand by their “goal” and try to knock the other soccer ball off its perch with an uncontested, full-court pass – trust me, it was way harder than it sounds, but did account for at least a goal or two on this specific day.

Eventually, the score was 3-2 with my team losing before one of the jokesters from earlier asked, “Until what, 10 goals?”

“How about 5?” I asked.

“Sure, if you want to lose fast,” he said, with a grin and a chuckle, which was on brand for him.

After a heated 20 minute game full of lead changes, pannas or nutmegs, penalties, and more, one side, the side that was not mine, triumphed with a 5-3 victory. I made a note of which players were on the winning squad and moved the participants to a narrow rectangle of shade in the corner of the court.

• 

“Did anyone see that game we were playing with the younger group?” I asked.

Some nodded while others hadn’t yet arrived back then. I proceeded to walk them through mano o cabeza before hitting a practice round to see if the instructions had actually stuck or not. The boys were amped up the whole time, taking the game seriously, but hardly taking themselves seriously whenever they fumbled their commands.

We played until three winners were left, and then once more until only one was left standing. These four prize winners would get their first choice of soccer ball ahead of the winning players from the scrimmage and then all the others.

We had a bunch of equipment from the first session left over so I told the boys they could choose both a mini ball and a large ball, if they wanted – which they all took me up on. It made me smile remembering how when I was younger I’d always dribble around my house with a mini ball, much to the chagrin of my parents. No matter what, I could never be seen without a ball by my side, whether it was a size 5 or a size 1. I marveled at the thought that these boys could now enjoy the same.

Before they could begin choosing, I picked up one of the blue OWPP balls and discussed it’s indestructible properties to the boys.

“Ah yes we have the same ones at the house!” one of the boys said happily. “But ours is yellow.”

He seemed to appreciate the alternate colorway and grabbed a blue one when it was his turn.

Another boy carefully picked up all 5 of the remaining OWPP balls before choosing one to keep. “Que haces amigo they’re all the same,” I said. 

“I was checking which one had the most air,” he replied.

“No, they can’t be inflated or deflated. They’re all exactly the same,” I told him. He didn’t quite believe me so he stood on top of the ball with all his weight before jumping off and watching it miraculously regain its shape.

I remembered a bag of pulseras stuffed deep into my backpack and asked the boys if they would use the bracelets if given them.

“Did you buy them or make them?” one of the jokesters asked.

“My mom made them!” I answered.

“Then of course we’ll wear them, they’re special!” he said.

The boys helped distribute the brown bracelets and red/white/green ones amongst each other.

I looked at one of the older boy’s wrists and saw that he had one of each. “Why do you have two?” I asked. 

He pointed at the simple, brown-stringed one and said, “Well I like this one.” before pointing to the other multicolored one and saying proudly, “¡Then this one to represent la bandera!”

A couple older boys who had been busy crashed the session at the end, practicing some tricks and shots at goal.

One boy approached me and asked, “You are from Spain? You are Spanish?” 

“¿No, why?” “You have a Spanish accent.” Man if I had a peso for each time I heard that I’d have enough money to buy at least two elotes!

As I prepared to walk the four blocks to my apartment, we all moved back to the front lobby to pass out some extra soccer balls to staff members and other participants. The older boys told jokes and continued to flex some of their English skills. One of them handed me a kinder egg before adding, “I hope you enjoy that because I know it’s prohibited back in the USA!”

I bid farewell to the boys, thanking them once again for their time and thanking the tíos for their help. I opened the gate and turned the corner, two, now empty, bags in tow.“¡Hasta luego!” I shouted.