Roatan, Honduras (Part 1)

The last time I ran sessions in Honduras was back in November of 2021. Twelve months later I found myself back in Central America ready to run programs. It’s a place I’ve always been very fond of. A place where we have good local community partners and a place filled with people that feel like family. Needless to say, I was eager to get back for another programming run.

A week out, I reached out to Joshua, a Honduras-based friend who feels more like a brother than anything, and the rest was history. The team of young adults he coaches is always in need of soccer balls, so I made sure to tuck away some of my finest ones for him as a gesture of my gratitude. Honduran programs are fun because they usually stretch far and wide, working with several different teams and other organizations, really providing a healthy variety which is something we always seek.

After a long travel day nearly derailed from the fierce gusts of a hurricane hitting the northeast, I finally landed in Honduras. As I walked past customs through the automatic gate of the airport, Josh was waiting right there.

“You hungry?” he asked. “Let’s grab some food.” He grabbed one of my bags chock-full of equipment and dragged it to his car.

After a quick pit stop in el Suampo, a place I’ve been running sessions in since 2017, we headed out for a quick lunch before I called it a day. The trip had left me incredibly exhausted.

“Get some rest,” said Josh, “Tomorrow you’re back on the sidelines with me.” 

In years past we have supplied players with Nike and Adidas boots, goalkeeper gloves, training equipment, soccer balls, and more. To see their work on the field and to see them using many of those above items still, was really special for me.

“I still have the Vapors you gave me last year amigo,” said the team’s captain Alexis with a smile on his face.

Like I said, I was putting an unbeaten record on the line coaching this game with Joshua, but it was always special to share the sideline with my hermano on the island. A couple of top players from rival side, Galaxy, were out due to yellow card accumulation, so this was as good a shot as we’d ever have to take points off of them. Straight up, the game was crazy. It was spicy right from the jump. 

Thanks to a damp field, we grabbed an early lead off a curling strike from our team’s number 10. Then, barely even 5 minutes later, Galaxy equalized. Galaxy grabbed a second late in the first half to put them up 2-1. 

*Tweet!* blew the center ref, a second yellow card came out of his pocket, the guilty party belonging to a member of Galaxy who’d managed to draw blood off one of our guys in a fierce aerial challenge.

“Vamos!!” I yelled, hopping out of my seat to dap Josh up.

Surely we could pull points away from this one with a man advantage for 45+ minutes. Wasting no time, we pulled a goal back in the dying embers of the first 45, off a clean ball centered into one of our crashing strikers. As Josh brought the team in for a halftime talk, I knew we were in good shape for the second half of the game.

“Bro if we finish this game with 11, we’ll be just fine” I said, turning towards Josh. 

He was a little less optimistic, providing a bit of realism from his side. 

“You’ll see them fighting harder for every ball, and maybe a drop in effort from those on our side because they know they’re up a man,” he said. 

Alas, I had faith. If you asked me what outcome I was expecting at halftime tied 2-2 with a one-man advantage, I would’ve surely said three points – no doubt. However, the second half would play out more towards Josh’s prediction than mine. Galaxy had a litany of chances, and we ended up bagging more red cards in the half (2) than goals. In typical Honduran fashion, the game ended with only 19 men on the field. 

I had told Josh at 45’ I was expecting three points. At 90’ I was glad to walk away with just the one as the game ended with the same scoreline of 2–2. Josh and I headed to Bojangles, with his father Steve, who I’ve been linked up with since 2017 as well. All of them really, really great human beings, rest of his family included. Over dinner we chatted about the games as I began to mentally prepare for the next day’s double session with two teams from Victoria Insular – their U16 and U14 sides. I worked with them and their sporting director, Marco Tulio, a year ago, but back then my sessions were with their U14 and U12 teams. They ran a tight ship though, and I was looking forward to seeing some familiar faces and new ones as well. The double session was scheduled for Estadio Galindo, the same venue from last night’s game against Galaxy, in the heart of El Suampo.

After a long night and longer morning of rain, Estadio Galindo was absolutely covered in mud. The kids didn’t care at all though, running freely on the field and sliding through puddles until their entire bodies were covered in mud. I had just showered and was far less fond of the conditions. I took one step onto the field and heard a squish under my chancla. My exposed foot was completely covered in mud.

“I hate this already,” said my inner monologue.

Accompanied by Marco Tulio, I made my way to the same team bench that had been occupied by Galaxy the day prior and greeted the team. We would be starting off with the U14s and finishing off with the older group, as our start time had already been pushed back a little bit. Seeing 10 or 11 familiar faces from our November ‘21 session, I found a patch of dry grass and set up shop there. The familiar faces were a blessing because many of them remembered our listening drill. One, Cris, our captain from last year’s session and son of Profe Geovany who picked me up – picked up right where we left off in last year’s training, helping explain the rules of our listening exercise and running a round himself yet again. Like I said, the shortened session required a condensed version of our curriculum so I quickly knocked out some ball control grids before hitting two rounds of mano o cabeza to get us some drawstring bag winners.

From there, I made my way over to Victoria’s U16 side and their head coach, who were all practicing on the opposite side of the field in the thick of the dirt and mud. After a brief introduction, we circled up for a little dinámica to work on ball control, touch, turns, and more. Having exhausted all the different variations of that, I opened things up into our 1v1 towards goal drill, with participants throwing their bodies at each other and fighting aggressively for each 50/50 ball. In the goal was Marco Tulio’s son, who I greeted afterwards before swiftly offering an apology for a drill that is so cruel to goalkeepers, often leaving them helpless against a barrage of attackers and shots. 

With the session wrapped up and new footballs in the hands of both teams, I made my way back to my room in Sandy Bay to wash the mud off my body only to be back in the thick of it the next day. Luckily for me, this Tuesday session was to be held at Kix, a little turf complex in Coxen Hole. On top of that, it was a gorgeous day. I dug into my bag and swapped out my dirty grey boots from the day prior and replaced them with some shiny new red ones upon news of clear skies. I pulled up at 2:40 for the session, and met with two boys who had been present at Galindo the day before. One was a younger boy named Samuel, U10 size at best, who had come to watch – the other, his cousin, a goalkeeper – had participated in the first of the two sessions. They arrived at Kix around 2:30 and Marco Tulio was quick to share that these two are always punctual, a sign of their eagerness to play, I’m sure.

I met the U12 team’s head coach, Andy, and we all circled up for a little introduction from Marco Tulio. We had some U10 players visiting from different parts of the island, places like Los Fuertes, among others. We greeted them with a round of applause, a similar one given to me after an intro and bio rundown from Marco Tulio. A prayer led by a younger player later, we jumped straight into our listening drill, then ball control grids, then our 1v1 drill, and eventually a big scrimmage. Practice was scheduled for 3-4:30 but we definitely scrimmaged until at least 5. I deployed myself to one team and we were getting absolutely smoked. At one point I think the score was 10-1!

“Come on, Profe, shoot the ball! Shoot it at me!!” said the goalkeeper I had chatted with earlier, begging for some action.

Ever hesitant to shoot the ball, I dropped a ball in to one of our attackers who rifled a shot off the goalkeeper, parrying it straight into my path. I wasn’t gonna let the opportunity at a free net pass me by, but style points were a necessity – so I planted my left foot to the right of the ball and drove a rabona low into the bottom left corner of the net. The goalie collapsed to his knees and saved the ball into his own net.

“GOL??!!!” I yelled out.

“No profe!!!” He yelled out

I didn’t believe it. Surely that one had crossed the goal line. I asked the team’s outside back, a young buck I was chatting with all game despite occupying opposing sides.

“Si Profe, it was a goal,” he said, confirming what I’d known all along.

“11-2!” I yelled out. “Vamos por el empate!” The other team’s lead scorer just laughing at me in response.

“Defensa!” I yelled out, my defense nowhere to be seen, as the other team deposited another ball into the back of the net for a 12-2 scoreline.

I turned to the same player on the opposing side I’d been chatting with all scrimmage. “No defense bro just vibras.”

As we closed things out with a blow of the whistle, me and a few of the boys made our way towards Kix’s snack shack for some post-training beverages, which were my treat of course. We spoke about the game, favorite teams, favorite players, etc.. We spoke of the World Cup and our predictions, sipping our sodas, mouths parched after two hours of the game. As I hooked a left towards Sandy Bay and they hooked a right towards their homes at the forked entrance to Kix, we closed this year’s Victoria Insular chapter of footy on the island with one last smile and wave – “Gracias Profe!”