To tell the story of this next program, we need to go back a few years to 2018. That year, I received a random message from a teen living just outside Kenya’s capital of Nairobi.

“My name is Stephen, I want to be a professional footballer,” the message read.

Through the years, Stephen and I remained in touch. The truth is, I had no desire to go to Kenya. At the time we only just began running programs in Africa, and for what it’s worth, Nairobi was out of my flight network. I nearly wrote it off completely. Nevertheless, Stephen and I maintained contact and from time to time he would drop into my inbox just to discuss his progression on the field. Then, in 2020, when the pandemic hit and our programming was forced to go fully-virtual, something interesting happened.

As you may remember, the concept of our virtual challenge series was simple. Each week, we would drop a new challenge: number of stepovers performed in 10 seconds, highest number of seated juggles, highest number of juggles using only the head. I, myself, would try my luck at the skill. Then, as an added bonus, one of my many professional footballing friends would hop on, not only to perform the skill as well, but to offer some encouraging words of wisdom, oftentimes applicable both on and off the field. It was a special, albeit improvised chapter in our story, as it gave beneficiaries an opportunity to not only exercise during uncertain times, but to connect with professional athletes through the magic of technology. This was an opportunity they might’ve never had if not for otherwise. Plus, they really got creative with it. I must’ve sent out videos to dozens of countries we’d worked with, receiving dozens and dozens more back from Costa Rica, Guatemala, Senegal, Indonesia, and more.

Resting at the top of our growing pile of submissions sat videos from a particularly talented boy. His name, you might ask? Stephen.

I was thrilled. Not only were our challenges giving beneficiaries a chance to play, they were now giving them an opportunity to SHINE! By now, you know how my mind works. Everything, though known or unknown, has purpose and everything has meaning behind it. Yes, these challenge videos were first and foremost a means of keeping our beneficiaries active and a way to not turn our backs on them during incredibly trying times. But these videos also represented a way to create new connections in the hopes of one day bringing our free programming to these new communities.

Fast forward a few years and there I was, in Kenya. I was catching an Uber towards Kangemi Market to meet up with my namesake, Stephen. I was anxious, but excitement was certainly my leading emotion. For his part, Stephen was just as excited.

“Gonna give you the biggest hug tomorrow bro,” he had texted me the day before, still just a tiny bit doubtful if I would actually be there, or if I was even in-country.

After years of communication, man, I couldn’t blame him for his conditional hope. We pulled up to the ever-so-chaotic Kangemi Market and there he was! The 6’0”, long-limbed, lanky Stephen with a big smile on his face. He hopped in the backseat and we made our way 10 more minutes west towards our venue – a dirt field in Uthiru.

Now, I had Stephen to thank for setting up this session. I had had those organizations flake out on me upon arrival in Kenya and like the star he is, he set a Sunday morning session up on the fly, within days’ notice.

“It’s a U15 team, but they’ll be thrilled with the footballs… no matter what size they are,” he had told me.

We pulled up to the grounds and I met the coaches I’d be assisting on the day, or rather, the other way around as they had invited me to guest-coach training today. Coach Alex and Coach Philip were their names. Stephen, as expected, would be assisting me, which was a concept I was overjoyed about, as he would be spreading this knowledge of the game after one day participating in our programming, albeit from a long distance. This was a full circle moment.

We hit a quick intro with the boys and then jumped straight into two passing lines, working on settling the ball, one touch passing, and 1-2s. Barely minutes in, Stephen approached me with a question, “Bro do you have any more cones? Let’s add some more lines so the boys are constantly moving.” An excellent point and an even better idea from my second-in-command on the day.

We made two extra lines and deployed leftover players to man them.

“Meatball!” yelled out Coach Philip from the line next to me. “Meatball?” I asked, quizzically.

He let out a big laugh. “No coach, meet ball, as in, meet the ball when receiving the pass,” he clarified.

I chuckled in return, “Can’t be talking about meatballs, Coach! I didn’t eat breakfast this morning and I’m too hungry to talk about food!”

You see, I watched Stephen running through the drill with the boys. He ran to one boy on the outside, calling for the ball, and then driving it back at the boy’s hands. But then, he switched up… attaching himself to another boy on the inside of the circle. Wherever that boy went, so did Stephen.

At first, I was confused. Stephen was no longer getting touches on the ball. He wasn’t finding a free man on the outside, instead following another on the inside, who would always be the first to arrive to receive a pass from the outside. Then it hit me. Stephen was no longer participating in the drill as a player, but rather, acting as my assistant coach. He was shadowing the boy, encouraging him from a distance, and ensuring that the boy’s touch and technique were proper. I was too quick to judge! I retreated to my side of the circle and just as Stephen was doing, observed the game in front of me from my corner of paradise.

Every once in a while, Coach Philip would chime in with a nugget of coaching wisdom for the boys. “Boys! Remember, always communicate… call for the ball when you approach your teammate. Scan the field too! Be aware of your surroundings.” He was absolutely on point, with all of it. And you could tell the respect his players had for him, as the boys wasted no time putting his words into practice.

Next up, with hardly any time left because I had another session later that day in Kiberia, I told Coach Alex to divide up the teams for a scrimmage.

“I want to play!” yelled out Stephen, as Coach deployed him to the side attacking the far net.

Coaching responsibilities out of the way, I made my way to the sideline to chop it up with Coach Philip, as Coach Alex manned the scrimmage. We spoke about our favorite club teams, himself more a fan of the game than any specific side.

“I suppose if I had to pick a favorite team – it would be the 20-25 year olds I coach,” he said with a smile, giving us the diplomatic, yet very correct answer.

I thanked him for letting me guest coach the session, as he provided context to the perfect timing of the situation.

“You see, this is the only time the boys can play. School runs until 5 PM, six days a week… so Sunday is really all they have.”

After a spirited conversation, Coach Philip gave me a handshake and bowed out, “I gotta go bro! I got a tournament game with the over 35s,” he said. “Go do your thing, legend!“ I yelled out, as he ran towards his Uber.

With the scrimmage finished, I chopped it up more with Stephen as some of the boys approached me to ask for pictures and selfies. This was a special day, for many reasons. Obviously, it was a moment years in the making. Beyond that, I was set to give Stephen our annual Willy Garcia Memorial Scholarship. A little over 12,000 Kenyan shilling he could use towards pursuing his professional footballing dreams.

Just like Stephen, Willy was enamored with the game of soccer. Him, like many of us, shared that dream of playing pro. And although he’ll never be able to fulfill that dream, it’s beautiful to think that another human being, on the other side of the world, from Guatemala to Kenya, might be able to continue that legacy through his own journey.

Now, there was no doubt in my mind that Stephen deserved this scholarship. It would take otherworldly powers to convince me otherwise. And as if there was ever any question of it, what Stephen said next only confirmed that we had found the right one.

“Bro, is it okay if I help out at your next session today?”