Guatemala City, Guatemla (Part 2)

Our second day of programming in Guatemala was set to be an incredibly special one. For starters, it was going to be yet another installment in our 2022 Pro Series – this time featuring Moises “Mo” Hernandez of CSD Municipal, more commonly known to fans and foes as Los Rojos. Mo has also represented his country, which is part of what led to this particular session getting pushed from June to September.

The world of sport, specifically that of soccer from the outside looking in, can seem super big and for that reason, frightening, but the truth is, there are so many small, genuine connections that exist within the game. We’ve managed to find connections who believe in the transformative power of sport, especially for kids living on the margins of society. They believe in what we do, and they see value in the impact that it has on our beneficiaries. Ultimately, it’s that shared belief that unites us, bridging worlds and creating connections that might not have existed if not for otherwise. I say that because our professional guest for this session was actually a friend of a friend.

Back in 2015, I worked with Giuseppe Gentile of the then San Antonio Scorpions for a program at a refugee youth center in Texas. I linked up with his roommate at the time, and a fellow teammate from his days at UNC Charlotte. He is a young man named Tyler Gibson. Remaining in touch throughout the years, Ty who now plays for Lou City in the USL Championship, graciously hopped onto our Virtual Challenge Series during the early days of COVID, helping kids stay active during long, difficult periods of isolation.

With a resume as impressive as Mo’s, which included representing Guatemala on the international stage and spending time in the MLS with FC Dallas, I knew how special it would be for the kids to learn directly from someone as accomplished as himself. I was determined to bring the session to life, but obviously the interest had to be reciprocated. I shot a text Mo’s way and held my breath. He was busy training with the national team in the states, so I ended up holding my breath for a few days.

Eventually, my phone buzzed – “Hey, this is Mo! Tell me more, I would love to help.”

This was back in March and I was trying desperately to link something up for April, working around a busy postseason schedule with Mo’s side in the playoffs. Ultimately, at no one’s fault nothing ever materialized. The week I was hoping to set it up for was Semana Santa and as a result, all the kids were on vacation back with their families celebrating. The program became an afterthought, but I still was hoping to make it happen for us, for Mo, but especially, for the kids.

Fast forward to September and I was on a flight to Guatemala. Our new beneficiary, SKD Guatemala is a UK-based charity fighting for the rights and well-being of high-risk, street youth in Guatemala City. They were down for a session and I prepared to be in the city a few days prior.

Mo sent me a text on Monday, as soon as I landed in his country – “Can they do Thursday afternoon?” he asked.

Their director, Edinzon, also known as Sony, was in contact and had been extremely enthusiastic throughout. So much so, that I figured, well rather, hoped, that he would be flexible based on Mo’s schedule, just as I was. Luckily, he very much was. He saw value in a soccer class carried out by a professional and was willing to do anything to make it happen.

The organization was just 15 minutes away from where I was staying and from where Mo was based. I was stoked.

Just then, I got a message from Sony, “We don’t have space here with the boys, so we’ve rented a turf field in Zona 11. The complex is called Futeca Majadas.”

Was I excited about the turf field? Yes. Absolutely yes. But, when I put it in Google, Zona 11 was in fact not right next to Zona 10 where I was. It was on the other side of town, which is about 45 minutes away. With Guatemalan traffic, that could very much spell trouble.

I ran it by Mo and hoped he’d still be down for the cause, which fortunately he was. Now all that was left was to pray that our final puzzle piece, which is the weather of course, would cooperate. During the days before the session, it rained every afternoon. Not a great sign, but it was out of my hands now.

The day before the session, Mo checked in just as he did the days prior.

“Hey man! Everything good? How was the session today?” he asked, speaking of our first class with Casa Ohana.

This guy was all class.

“Don’t worry, I have a car. It’s all good,” he replied.

I pulled into the parking lot and with two big bags in tow, I began my trek down to the complex, which was complete with four, beautiful artificial turf fields. There was a group of boys and girls already hanging around by some picnic tables under a shaded area.

Two boys came running over from that group, “Can we help with your bags?” they asked.

“Sure! Thank you!” I answered.

We all made our way back to the picnic tables, where I finally met Sony in person. He was a top notch dude, just as warm as he was when we first began contact so many months ago. I told him Mo was likely already on his way, as I passed his number along just to check in. “I’ll be there in 15!” Mo said, having run into a bit of traffic.

We decided to jump things off since the kids, all decked out in their Sunday league best, were eager to play. A couple other boys helped set up a listening drill grid for me as I gathered the rest in for a charla.

“Hey guys, so today we have a soccer class and in a little bit we’re going to have a very special guest, a player from Los Rojos!” I said, just as excited as they were.

I told them that while waiting for Mo to arrive, we’d be jumping into a listening drill.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked.

“Si profe,” they said, in as wimpy a manner as possible.

Trying to up the energy, I yelled out, “Que dijiste? I can’t hear you!”

“Si!” they responded.

After a few well-contested rounds, I wanted to choose a captain to take it over from there – ultimately deciding on an older boy named Kenedi. He ran the rounds with ease. From there, I asked another SKD Staffmember, Frank, to help me set up a small rectangle to jump into a warm-up drill I grabbed from two weeks back with Proyecto Cantera in CDMX.

The 19 participants, each with their own ball, would be dribbling in this tight, congested grid – maintaining control of their own ball while trying to eliminate others by kicking their ball out of the grid.

“Do you guys understand?”

Everybody nodded their heads.

“Ok, 1, 2, 3 – *tweeeet*”

I immediately watched one boy dribble his own ball straight out of bounds, not keeping watch of the grid lines. From the corner of my eye I saw a tall figure coming down the steps onto the first turf field. I threw a hand up in the air, and received a wave back. Mo had arrived.

Making his way to midfield, I gathered the kids back in to quickly introduce him before running another round of this elimination game. While the kids were going at it, I told Mo what we’d be doing next just to make sure we were on the same page. With a blow of my whistle, I instructed the kids to organize themselves into two teams.

“Ah profe are we playing a partido?” asked an older boy.

“Nope, not yet – but later we will,” I answered.

We broke into our 1v1 drill to goal, “But wait!” I yelled. “We need a portero, the best one here!” I called out.

“He’s a super good portero,” said one boy, pointing to another young man in a blue shirt.

Everyone seemed to be on the same page as they echoed similar sentiments all while pointing at this same boy. I explained things quickly, and then we were off. I ran it for a bit myself, before letting Mo take over, myself just manning the whistle from my spot on the field.

“Wait, has anyone scored yet?” I asked, Mo shook his head “Nope, still zeros.” Could’ve been poor finishing, could’ve been good defending, could’ve been our elite portero in net, who knows. Maybe it was even a combination of all three. As turns continued to pass and still goals could not be produced, Mo tossed me a ball.

“Let me get a turn,” he said, ditching his position as leader of the drill to that of a participant, pointing out his prey from the next line before laying down on the ground in our starting position.

*tweet* He jumped straight to his feet, collecting the ball before his counterpart from the other team could reach it. He shifted the ball to the right, then back to the left, before cheekily slotting the ball through his opponent’s legs. “Sheesh!” I yelled out.

After a hard fought duel between the two, no goals were scored but I know for sure that the boy walked away with his head held high for a defensive stand against a real professional. From there, we broke into three different ball control grids to work on push-passes, volleys, and headers. I had my own group of six and Mo worked with another six, and then Kenedi with the remaining six. With the final activity out of the way, we broke into three different teams for 15 minutes of scrimmages.

Mo put on a show for his team, though all the kids involved were eager to stand out. I swear some of these dudes were playing as if there were scouts in the stands. An older girl scored the game winner just as the clock struck 2 o’clock. We had blocked the remaining 15 minutes for autographs and photos, which were sure to be plenty, in fairness.

With our hour of field rental nearly up, I gathered the kids by a shaded set of bleachers for a concluding charla.

“First of all, I want to thank you guys for giving us your full attention and respect,” I started off. “Secondly, let’s give Mo another round of applause for sharing his time with us today,” I said.

I turned to Mo, while the kids were applauding, “I’m not sure if you have any advice or words you’d like to share with them, but if so, now’s the time,” I said.

Mo stepped forward, as the kids hushed to a near dead-silence.

“You must always study hard guys, it’s super important to estudiar.”

“To study hard. To work hard. If you want to be a futbolista you need to work hard.”

If that was all he had said, it would have been plenty enough, but he continued to share words of wisdom that applied to his own career and hopefully might apply to the future ones of these kids too.

“Listen guys. The most important thing is to be a good person. Being a good person will take you farther in life than anything else in this world. Don’t ever forget that.”

With a final round of applause, we had our elimination game winners and our winning team from the scrimmages step forward to choose their own new soccer balls.

“Choose whichever ball you would like,” I said to the kid at the front of the line. “And after, please go give Mo a saludo,” I added, watching as kids approached him gleefully to offer a fist bump, a high five, or even a hug.

Once all the kids had their own soccer balls, we made our way back to the shaded area to sign some autographs and take pictures. I had checked to make sure we were good on time first – “don’t worry, I can be here til like 2:15,” Mo shared, and credit to him this guy really stayed the entire time and signed every single article that was passed his way. It was awesome, if you looked out at our sea of participants sitting down at the picnic tables – they all had a signed ball in their hands, and on all of their shirts, a matching signature straight from Mo.

“They’ve never had a footballer visit them ever, ” shared Sony, reinforcing how special of a day it was, one that certainly warranted rental of a beautiful turf field and more. “We had one a long time ago from ‘las cremas’ but he was already very old and hadn’t played for them in a long time.” “So this one is really special, seriously,” shared Sony.

As we prepared to say bye to Mo, I dug into my bag and grabbed something I’d put together before the session started.

“Yo before you go, I got this for you,” I said.

“It’s just a handwritten card with some money in there – not much, like 150 Guatemalan Quetzales, just to cover gas, as a way of saying thank you for being here,” I said, which was something I promised him way back in March.

“Ah, keep the money,” Mo said, despite my insistence otherwise.

“I will take the card though,” he added, with a smile – sharing how much fun the session was for him, and hoping it was equally as much so for those participating.

“I can promise you they loved it man,” I said. “This is once in a lifetime stuff for them, and I got you & only you to thank for that.”

Of course, I could only speak on behalf of myself – but shortly after, Sony would echo the same exact sentiment.

“Thanks to you for your work and support. You have no idea how happy those kids were today, to play soccer and to have the experience of meeting someone like Mo.”

There’s a new phrase I’d learned a little while ago, though I’m sure I should’ve known it from an even longer time before that.

“Vale la pena,” it goes. The meaning in English is “it’s worth it.”

For feedback like that, for smiles like those that we saw today, and for the dreams that now seem a little closer than before thanks to Mo and other athletes like him – it is and always will be worth it.