I had a small window of time between the run of programs in the Dominican Republic and our annual domestic scholarship, so I figured I’d try to squeeze in another session or two if I could. Naturally, I reached out to a familiar friend, Katty, from the City of Joy Foundation in Quintana Roo in Mexico. Katty and I were fortunate to work together on multiple occasions, most recently in Spring of 2021 when we had visited las pueblas in the Zona Maya outside the city to run a sports program with kids really feeling the effects of the pandemic due to their remote location.

We had also worked together in 2020, running an entire morning of sessions at the foundation’s campus, working with three different age groups, with each participant receiving a new soccer ball. This year’s collaboration would follow that same format. Despite being guilty of hardly giving Katty adequate lead-time, she got right to work.

“So it will be on Saturday and as of now we have about 45 kids, it was last-minute, but the children will definitely be excited, as I’m sure their parents will too,” she said.

I got to work on my side too, packing 60 soccer balls just to be safe and throwing in a couple extra surprises as well – in the form of indoor/turf cleats including Nike vapors, Adidas predators… you know, the good stuff!

These brands can be hard to come by in Mexico, so I already knew the pairs would be well-received and appreciated by their new owners. I spent the days leading up to Saturday as I always do, pumping up soccer balls until I barely had any room to move in my Airbnb.

There was no way I could inflate all 60 and transport them to Saturday’s session, so I pulled the plug on the operation at 35 and was thankful to do so. I opened up Uber, pinned my destination, and was headed on my way… or at least that’s what I thought.

We were set to meet around 9 a.m., to start the session at 9:30, so I figured me hailing an Uber at 8:30 would give me plenty of time… or at least that’s what I thought

16 minutes away. Ay no! I can’t wait that long. 

*cancel*

260+ pesos?

“Ay, carísimo” I said, knowing it was usually a 140 peso trip.

*cancel*

Then, with a quick refresh, “No cars available” read the app. Ugh. Meanwhile, minutes passed by and with them, my time and my patience wore thin. Having no other choice, I headed down from my flat to the street to flag down a taxi. An older gentleman whipped his car around and helped me with my three bags all full of pelotas.

“Ah I know the foundation, yes, 200 pesos,” he said.

I wasn’t in the mood to negotiate so I agreed and hopped in the front seat. It was about a 20 minute trip, but it passed by quickly as we spent most of the conversation chopping it up about the game. I told him why I had so many bags with me, and what were in those bags, and the football lessons we had planned with the foundation upon arrival. The man was curious, yet attentive, offering words of support whenever he could.

“Look, we’re almost there, do you recognize it?” he said, pointing to the big metal gate of the “City of Joy” ahead to the left.

Well that was lovely wasn’t it, I thought, not really able to have scripted a better start to a program or a commute en route to one. A security guard took my license at the gate and I made my way to a synthetic grass field, moving past familiar pastures – a nice large green space in the front of the foundation where I had run sessions back in 2020.

In front of the turf field, dozens of families and parents sitting on foldout chairs. Beyond them, dozens more kids decked out in soccer gear, boots, matching PSG jerseys, and more, eager to get the party started. In front of them, an energetic young man named Bernardo, who had graciously led the participants through a warm up and stretch so I could immediately kick things off once ready. Bernardo introduced himself, then circled the kids up so we could hit a quick intro before the session. I gave my usual spiel before instructing the kids to partner up and approach me to receive a cone, and a ball for each group of two.

They placed the cones and balls on the ground in a long line spanning nearly the length of the entire cancha. With the stage set we jumped right into it. I ran a couple rounds before designating a sprightly boy, named Jorge, to be captain for the session and to run the rest of the drill. As he was busy leading the listening activity, I noticed a familiar face that had joined us on the field.

“Hola Katty,” I said with a huge smile on my face before greeting her with a hug and besito. We would have more time to catch up after, but before I could get back to the group I had to take a minute to apologize to her. We had spoken about working together in March of 2022, for an amazing tournament the foundation had set up with over 100 kids at the nearby professional stadium, alongside professional players from FC Cancun, which plays in the 2nd division – Liga MX Expansion. She gushed as she spoke about the event, sharing how it was the kids’ first time to ever not just be at the stadium, but to play at it! They all left with medals and I’m sure a ton of autographs to commemorate the day. I apologized a second time, sharing how I had hoped to complement the already special experience by giving each kid their own soccer ball. Unfortunately, March had been a busy month with our sessions alongside the Saprissa players in Costa Rica, so I wasn’t able to swing things with Katty.

Katty, constantly wearing many hats herself, was as understanding as could be. “There’s always a next time, Stephen, don’t worry,” she reassured.

Not wanting to leave Bernardo and Jorge on their own for too long, I returned back to the group, which had grown to almost 40 participants at this point, which is a lot for one session, but we were making it work and the kids were super respectful, which honestly made it a breeze. We had a nice mix too, boys and girls, various ages, most from the surrounding communities, some living at the foundation’s residential home. We broke from there to four teams of around 9 people to knock out some relay races. Dribbling, stepovers, lateral jumps, it was the same song and same dance over here.

Jorge, being a captain, ran some demos, while I also gave other participants opportunities to lead by example as well depending on the skill or variation we were working on. After, we broke into two groups, one on each side of the field, to work on shooting. I was easily convinced by the kids who requested to “work on shooting”.

Jorge was in control of his group, complete with two goalies to split time – a boy and a girl. On my side, we had one keeper, but with the energy of two and change, might I add. The kids were nice when it came to this one, putting several shots on net with their first time strikes, often tucking them into the lower corners of the goal past our well-tested keeper.

“How much time do we have left?” I asked Bernardo. “About 45 minutes,” he replied.

“Okay, let’s all circle up here in the middle!” I yelled, as the kids helped collect stray cones and soccer balls.

We were getting into mano o cabeza, but I’m certain these kids had played it before. I mean I kept going round and round the circle and nobody would mess up! They were seasoned pros, it couldn’t have been their first rodeo. Determined to expedite the process, I split the circle in halves and had Bernardo run one group while I took care of the rest. Whenever someone was eliminated, Bernardo instructed all the other participants to encourage them with a round of applause.

“It’s gonna be a long day if we do that,” I laughed, given how many kids were there competing.

We were playing until 3 were left in the circle

“Profe, can we play again? I want to win!” yelled one of the boys.

Aware that we had a little bit of time before a scheduled scrimmage to close out the program, I caved – “Fine, and this time with 5 winners!” I yelled. 

“Yes!!!” responded the group.The kids just kept on impressing with this one. Even the younger ones could not be fooled.

My captain, Jorge, was ever so close but finished the round on the outside looking in.

“Profe, just one more round?” he asked, determined to leave both a captain and a winner.

“Okay, but only the last person standing gets a prize with this one,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we had enough time, only to see that Bernardo’s group still had plenty of players left.

We kept going around and around until guess who was left standing? My boy Jorge.

Finally, it was scrimmage time. Unsurprisingly, all the older boys wearing PSG jerseys organized themselves into one team. We split into three squads, with one waiting off to the side until a goal was scored. Jorge, captaining the Paris side, asked a question – “Profe hay premios for the goleadores?”

First you got a captain’s band, then you won a prize from mano o cabeza, how many prizes do you want! I laughed to myself.

“Mas!” he said, returning a chuckle.

Despite me and Bernardo playing on the smaller, younger teams, Jorge’s squad ran the table. I think they finished with four or five wins, which was four or five more than any of the others. The kids ran back to the shade after nearly two hours of training in the sweltering heat. After sharing a drink of water and a word with their parents, they retreated back in front of us, so we could distribute prizes.

First, the nearly 20 mano o cabeza winners, each receiving custom Mexico, Around the Worlds, or other miscellaneous colored bracelets and a choice from our colorful pile of new soccer balls. After each kid had a new ball in hand, a couple parents approached me with their children, to offer a word of thanks.

“Gracias a ti! I’m always happy to be here at the foundation,” I responded, grateful that they allowed their children to spend a morning with us.

We snapped a few pictures on a few parents’ cellphones to complement the memory of each soccer ball, and then held back a bit to see if we could find new homes for our soccer shoes. They were on the small side, but we had a nice mix of participants who fit the build or at least we hoped so. First up was a young girl, one of the smallest in the session, who slipped perfectly into a pair of blue Nike tiempos almost Cinderella-esque.

A brother and sibling went next, one claiming a pair of Adidas predators, while the other went with some Mercurials because ya know, checks over stripes. The remaining pair and 20 or so soccer balls were left with Katty and the foundation, so they could distribute them to any of their many beneficiaries, such as those in the remote pueblas and more.

On the verge of a heat stroke, I took a short truck ride to the front office with my now-empty bags in the bed. Finally having a minute to chat, I scarfed down an ice water as Katty and I caught up on the past year and change. Thankfully, things had been improving at the foundation – “little by little, day by day,” she said optimistically.

The school was doing well, and the kids would be there receiving an education until around mid-July. Since I’d last seen her, Katty had been quite busy both in and out of work. She had made a big trip in 2021 to Nepal to climb the Himalayas and she said it was incredible.

“Just me, the mountain, and my Sherpa” she said, reliving the experience through her words. “You have to come next time!”

Next on the list, Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.

“Say no more, Katty, I’ve been dying to get back to Africa,” I responded.

Knowing we never really get enough time to catch up, besides an occasional car ride or some tacos at a beneficiary family’s house following a program, Katty made one final request. “Please, next time you’re here, let’s make time for a coffee or a lunch,” she said.

“Yes please, I’d like that,” I said, knowing we were 18 months overdue for one.

Just like that, with a hug and a kiss, it was upwards and onwards, eyes set on the next mountain to climb – for her literally, for me figuratively.