Thursday rolled around and with it was our third program in three days. Luckily though, this would not be one with new faces. Well, not many, at least. I was set to work with the same two groups from Tuesday – Casa Sonrisa Franciscana and Casa Nino Jesus. I arrived thirty minutes early, maintaining steady communication with my local contact, Madeley.

“Mira, Stephen, today you will be working with the same kids,” she said. “The only difference is that you won’t be using the turf field, but rather, the cement pitch outside Casa Sonrisa.”

“The footballs are already there,” she added, for good measure.

“Entiendo!” I answered.

“Ya estoy aquí en el campo,” I said. At least, I thought so.

“You’re at the wrong one,” she said with a chuckle.

“A discúlpame, I was here on this pitch like four years ago,” I said.

“Good memory!” she replied.

Luckily, the real pitch was barely two minutes walking distance away. I entered the fold and began clinic prep. Through the corner of my eyes, I spotted some of the chicos through Casa Sonrisa’s back door. They were working on some homework and arts projects. I smiled wide, looking down from their faces to see what they were wearing. All of them were donning their regalitos, matching Challenger Sports tees, just as I’d instructed them two days prior.

“Jerry,” he said, with a smirk.

“Jerry, mira, tenemos que preparar dos actividades para practicar pases.”

He was ready and attentive. First, we set up a grid for ball control (volleys, push-passes, and headers). Then, we set up a square to work on two-touch passes. Another young lad off to the side must’ve been jealous, because he joined in on the fun just while we were wrapping up our setup. I had nothing left to do, so we hit a couple rounds of penalties before I decided to teach them the beauty of “goalie wars” or… in my bad Spanish, “la guerra de los porteros”.

“We played futbol yesterday too, Profe!” Jerry was quick to share.

“I played goalkeeper!” said the other boy.

“And I scored some goals!” Jerry added.

“Did you guys win?” I asked.

“It was a tie,” they said in unison. “7-7.”

“Ay dios mio! Que partidazo!” I exclaimed.

With Casa Sonrisa ready, I hit a quick charla to see what they had remembered from Tuesday. Then, we jumped into our first of three drills on the day. Two-touch push passes with two passing lines. Once they were pros at that, we headed off to the side to hit the ball control gauntlet, getting through two variations before our stragglers on the day – Casa Nino Jesus, decided to join in on the action. One boy from Sonrisa had been a bit unruly, not for a lack of respect, but let’s just say, for an abundance of energy. I knew what I had to do. Rather than scold, I put him in a position of leadership.

“Amigo, come here and run this grid,” I called out. He popped to his feet and followed my every command.

Believe it or not, once the little ones from Casa Nino Jesus fell into place, this boy even helped explain what we were doing to them! Now that’s what I’m talking about!

Once our youngest boys had their fill of the heading exercise, we moved into one-on-ones at the goal. Everyone wanted to play goal, and everyone wanted to take my spot at the center as gamemaster.

“Tranquilo… we’ll all have a chance,” I assured them, making sure to cycle players out every couple rounds.

“Hasta un gol solo!” I yelled out, noticing time dwindling and ready to shift over to a scrimmage once a golden goal was scored.

It took five minutes, but finally that goal came! The kids celebrated and shouted, and their excitement only grew when I announced the next thing on the agenda – un partido!

We split up into three teams and then off we went. One goal, tweet! A change of the guard. One goal, tweet! The other team swapped out.

“10 minutes left!” I yelled out. “Let’s play!”

I was particularly impressed with some of Ciudad’s youngest, who played without fear against their brothers, despite them standing nearly twice their size. There were big shots and even bigger saves. I won’t lie… I threw a couple nutmegs in there too, just for fun.

“Profe, it’s not fair! You’re so much bigger than us,” said Jerry and his buddy.

“Guys, no te preocupes, you are winning 5-0!” I snapped back.

“Tienes razón,” Jerry said, realizing the scoreline was very much in their favor.

Profe, it’s time for the boys to eat, one of their tutors said.

I blew the whistle, first calling for all of them to stack cones up in my hand and put all our footballs back in their respective bags off to the side.

“Si, Profe!” they said, affirmatively.

“Profe cuando vuelves?” one of the little guys, unable to play due to illness, asked.

“Este Sábado! Pero tenemos clases con las otras casas,” I said.

“Ahhhh I see!” The boy responded.

“Gracias, Profe, nos vemos!” the other little guys said, as Casa Nino Jesus made their way back home to their dwelling across the street.

“Oh un momento,” I said, stopping mis hermanas (las tutores) in their tracks.

I had a plum Around The Worlds bag for each housemother, just as a show of my thanks.

“Gracias por su ayuda,” I said, happy that they were on hand to keep things in order despite the kids’ abundance of energy.

“Con gusto!” they responded, clutching their bags in their hands before heading back to the boys whose lives they played such a large role in.

After all, these women are the lifeblood of Ciudad de los Ninos. And the giving of a bag, though ultimately insufficient, is the smallest thing I could do personally as a sign of my gratitude.

“Nos vemos este sábado!” I said, heading back through Ciudad’s gate to my Uber already waiting outside.