Just like our first session in Egypt, I was excited for this second one here in Morocco. Why, though? Because, we would be working with IDMAJ once again and with their football academy, a dedicated team with training thrice weekly and games every weekend from a high-quality coaching staff. I was briefed that some of the boys, especially the older ones, were extremely talented so needless to say, I was stoked to carry this one out. As always, numbers were constantly changing and with it, so were we. We planned for 25 participants, but the kids were so excited that sign-ups had extended to 30 players, which Leo had warned me about the day before.

“No problem!” I said, packing up an extra five soccer balls since I was planning on giving each participant a new soccer ball at the close of this one. Well, flexibility was and very much does still remain of the essence, as we ended up with a whopping 43 participants. Luckily, I managed to move some things around and got us enough gear for all the boys. With the stress of that out of the way, I couldn’t wait to kick things off.

I linked up first for the program with a coach who had helped observe Saturday’s session – Mohammad. He was going on two days without sleep for a wedding, but you would never be able to tell with the energy he gave for the kids. The second coach present was a young man by the name of Yasyn. He ran me through his player bio, coming up from the Moroccan National Youth Team ranks as well as the academy of one of the high-profile pro teams in the area. “But it got to be too expensive,” he said.

Somehow, he found himself at IDMAJ, both as a child and now as an adult of 21 years. As we passed the ball around gently, he smiled and pointed up at a big group photo tattooed onto a vinyl poster hanging on the wall, right next to a photo of IDMAJ’s President. “I’ve been here since I was a young boy,” he said. “See? The little guy there in the black? That’s me.” With my coaching staff and I well acquainted, it was time to kick things off. Today’s session was scheduled from 10-11:30 and although ma and I arrived there at 9:45, everyone else was on Moroccan time which resulted in a 10:15 start.

Nevertheless, things started off swiftly, but perfectly. 39 kids became 41, which quickly became 43. Yasyn led them through a dynamic warm-up, while I put the finishing touches on our listening exercise setup. We broke the kids into groups of four, huddled around the ball as Mohammad helped me run a couple early rounds in Darija (my traditional, Egyptian Arabic was close but not quite the same). Then, Yasyn took over as we shuffled through different variations of the same listening activity.

From there, it was time to work on ball control. Four grids were set up for four teams of 10 – led by me, Mohammad, Yasyn, and one older boy. Participants hopped (two-legged, right leg only, left leg only) over four sets of cones before shuffling to the right for a push pass, then the left for another. From here, volleys, half volleys, then headers. We were breaking things down to the basics, but Mohammad knew this was all-important for the boys’ progression in sport. Afterwards, it was time for two big circles for ra’s or yed. We had six Nike jerseys from Oakwood so each side would be fielding three winners. I claimed mine first and Mohammad soon followed, with winners jumping for joy and with glee upon outlasting every single one of their peers.

All things out of the way, it was Sunday, so we decided to break into a “petit match.” Mohammad told me the boys ALWAYS play matches on Sunday, so our timing was perfect. In fact, he wished I would be around another Sunday to truly see them at work. We broke into teams of five, with myself and Yasyn serving as automatic additions to either team.

“Stephen!” a young boy said. “Play with us! Please!!” he continued, waving a blue colored penny my way.

This would continue for several rounds, with orange, red, and green pennies. I was the first round draft pick and man was I loving it. It didn’t matter much though, because our participation did come with constraints. Yasyn and I were not allowed to score goals ourselves, but we could still tackle, dribble, and pass. I laughed to myself because getting other players involved is my jam anyway, the no-scoring thing was a non-rule more than anything and I simply could not wait to play my game the way I did best. When I tell you, Yasyn was ballin’ out man. I later found out he wasn’t even really a field player. “I’m a goalkeeper by trade,” he said. I couldn’t believe my ears. “Bro! Your foot skills are way too good to be a keeper,” I told him. Though a skilled goalie at heart, Yasyn would deploy himself out as a field player whenever coaching or playing with the kids.

Mohammad, though stricken with a lower leg injury, even got in on the action – subbing in and dropping a celebrity dime here and there. The scrimmages kept going and going, swapping out teams and colors as goals were scored.

Boom! A nutmeg.

Boom! A goal.

Boom! A bone crunching tackle.

The petit match had everything. At one point, my teammate received the ball at the midline and charged towards the net – only one defender between him and the goalkeeper. I launched out of a cannon to his left and begged for the ball – he tapped it perfectly past the oncoming defender and suddenly it was just me and the keeper. But wait! I couldn’t score, remember? I passed the ball gently across the frame of goal right back to his feet and he hammered it home.

We celebrated by the net then ran back towards our side to celebrate with the rest of our teammates – “Stephen! Stephen!” they yelled out.

After breaking a 1-1 deadlock with an intense golden goal, it was finally time to bring the program to an end. This one was supposed to go until 11:30, right? Well… it was 1:30 now. But that’s football, I swear. The kids didn’t want to stop, Leo had no problem with us going longer, and the coaches perhaps wanted to keep playing even longer than the kids! The boys all lined up at an end line while I disappeared into the IDMAJ office and reappeared with two big bags of soccer balls. The six Nike jersey winners would not be receiving soccer balls since they were taking home jerseys worth between $30-$50. Upon hearing that, they quickly asked if they could exchange. “I want a ball, coach!” they all said.

Mohammad chuckled, “You could’ve asked these kids if they’d prefer a car or a ball and they would struggle to not pick the ball,” he said. I loved to see it… I mean these kids really were passionate about the game. Beyond that though, they were SO respectful.

“Thank you so much Stephen!” a younger boy had said.

“Very good to meet you!” said a player from my team.

The younger boys would greet me with warm hugs while the older ones came up with high fives. Through it all, they each carried a smile even bigger than those before. Each of the 37 remaining kids were leaving with a ball, and fortunately for me they were extremely understanding that I hadn’t had the time to inflate all my materials. “No worries, Stephen, it’s okay – and thank you,” they’d say, reassuring me. I was blown away by their respect, truly. But when I spoke with our two coaches afterwards – it all made sense.

“We have a saying here, can you repeat it?” said Yasyn. “It’s called – الرياضة أخلاق (alriyadat ‘akhlaq)“

“This means, football is respect. Wait, it’s even different than that, let me translate.”

What he said next was even more profound, more important, more powerful.

“Football is morality.”

These boys were learning skills that were sure to not just make them better footballers, but better people as well. And with these two incredible coaches in place, they sure had two fantastic role models to learn from. The last group of five finished receiving footballs, and we huddled up for a huge 40 person group shot. The boys danced to some background drums as I threw down a move or two much to their delight. After, we all huddled up at center court – as the kids chanted once again – “Stephen! Stephen! Stephen!”

Mohammed whispered into my ear, “What’s your mom’s name?”

“Roxanne! Roxanne! Roxanne!” the kids could be heard yelling out just moments later.

It was perfect. I drew everyone in for a last second huddle as we all put our hands in and I led one final chant of “alriyadat ‘akhlaq“.

Afterwards, the boys all gathered around asking me to sign 40+ footballs and nearly just as many jerseys and tee-shirts. I took my time and signed each one patiently – though the kids’ excitement was really showing. “Mine next Stephen!” “Me please!” they yelled out, pushing each football closer and closer into my field of vision. On my way out through IDMAJ’s front gates I couldn’t help but smile as I took a single look at the kids’ new footballs. Why? Because my signature had been accompanied by two other ones – the boys’ coaches.