Now Is the Time for Running: Part 3

Then the storm blew down the tents, and the blue-uniformed police came and told everyone to leave. We had to reintegrate, we were told.

A man is applauding me. At his feet is a net-bag full of soccer balls. There is a laughing tiger tattoo on his neck. A silver whistle glints on his chest. He has a funny expression on his face.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly. I play it straight—sad face, hopeful eyes, crooked little smile. I know how to get a free meal: look pathetic and keep it together.

Despite the tremor in my hands and the dull ache in my stomach, I can’t wait to play.

“The other players are just like you—they’re homeless, or in rehab, or asylum seekers...."

“Deo! I can see you. Get down here!” It’s the raspy voice of one of the boys I knew on the streets. “We need you to run for us again.”

Well, that comment got up everyone’s noses. There were howls of outrage and insults galore.

So after they had been robbed of the ball once too often, Jacko charged her from behind and sent her sprawling onto the cement.

He went on about being chosen on merit, saying we had all been found on the streets, and that was enough.

The night air is cool on my face. My nose tingles in anticipation of what the small pot offers.

When Alfabeto is brave enough to ask when we are actually going to play some soccer, Salie’s reply is short and curt. “When I say so. Now get your head down and do two more laps.”

Part of the deal of the training camp was that those who did not make it would be offered accommodation at a halfway house.

At least they wouldn’t have to go back to the streets. But that’s little consolation.

“I’m talking about xenophobia."

For a long time, many people in this country thought apartheid and segregation were the only way.

For a long time, many people in this country thought apartheid and segregation were the only way.

“I have watched you very closely during the last seven days, and each of you brings something special to this team. Zimbabwe has brought me guts and determination; from Kenya, I get lightness and speed; from Angola, great defense of the goal area; from Mozambique, superb ball control and agility.”

"I congratulate you on your gift that has brought you to this World Cup. I thank God for your talent, for your perseverance, and for your courage. This tournament uses soccer to inspire and empower people to change their own lives. You have done that by being here!”

"I congratulate you on your gift that has brought you to this World Cup. I thank God for your talent, for your perseverance, and for your courage. This tournament uses soccer to inspire and empower people to change their own lives. You have done that by being here!”

“It looked like you guys were overwhelmed. I’ve never seen you so sluggish. Keelan, you were running around like you had cement blocks for feet. T-Jay, what happened to your sharp passing? Alfabeto, have you forgotten the patterns we’ve been working out for the last three weeks? People, you’ve got to forget the crowd, the noise, the hype—focus on one another and block out everything else.”

“It looked like you guys were overwhelmed. I’ve never seen you so sluggish. Keelan, you were running around like you had cement blocks for feet. T-Jay, what happened to your sharp passing? Alfabeto, have you forgotten the patterns we’ve been working out for the last three weeks? People, you’ve got to forget the crowd, the noise, the hype—focus on one another and block out everything else.”

In our debriefing session the next morning, Salie takes a different approach.

“People who have been spat at the week before are cheered by thousands. But the South African team has made a bold statement with its unusual inclusion policy."

In a flash of clarity it all comes back: the games I played in Gutu, Beitbridge, and Khomele village were all in preparation for this moment.

These people, who normally would look at me with pity or contempt, see me now in a new way.