Thursday, September 19, 2013

Soccer Shapeup and the International Language of Someone Hitting Themselves in the Face with a Soccer Ball

I apologize for not posting another update in a while, all my classes have really picked up and I took a short weekend excursion to Yangshuo (a small, very scenic, very fun town). I’ve now come to realize didn’t fully understand the seriousness of my workload before coming here. I am in class for 27.5 hours per week, a 12.5 hour jump from my standard college load in the states. On top of that I have to commute to do just about anything, which used to take around 15 minutes by foot, and now takes about 5 minutes by bike (I bought a new mountain bike with the assistance of a CLI intern for 370RMB, about $60. One of the pedals keeps falling off and I haven’t had time to ride it back to the dealer to get it fixed/exchanged, so I manually tighten the bolt holding it before each ride, but hey, that’s China). With commuting, homework, eating out, my sanity saving daily Skype dates with the girlfriend, and class, my time management skills are being put to the test. But enough about my petty tribulations, and on with today’s story:

I arrived in Guilin on a Friday. The following Sunday my roommate Richard told me about a weekly soccer match that CLI’s property manager hosts at a local field. I warned him of my absolute lack of skill and experience, but he assuaged my fears and told me it was a very amateur game. Determined to be more of a “Yes Man” in China, I agreed to suit up and play my first live game of soccer.

Having thoroughly schooled my girlfriend in FIFA (THE soccer video game), I confidently walked on to the pitch and imagined my future glories: Strikes whizzing by incapable keepers, expert tackles slowing down the enemy attack, and precision passes maneuvering through any and all defenders who naively tried to intercept them, all the while hearing the commentary of Martin Tyler and Alan Smith lauding my achievements. Then I discovered real, scrappy, street level soccer.

First off, it was a bilingual game, with some players speaking only English, some speaking only Chinese, and others speaking a garbled amalgam of both. It was informal and 5 on 5, but if someone got tired they would just sit down, leaving their team to fend for themselves. The player’s skill levels were about as varied as their language skills. Some had obviously played their entire life, and took full advantage of the less experienced/coordinated/athletic participants. Not knowing anyone on the field, I sat off to the side and watched for a while. They asked me to join and I reluctantly capitulated, again warning them of inexperience.

I’d now like to berate my parents for not getting my started in soccer as a child. It is incredibly fun, regardless of how well you play it, and it’s so simple in purpose that it’s easy to pick up, but so complex in execution that you could play and watch it forever without getting bored. I tried to hang back and play defense use my over-sized American frame to get in the way of the more skillful players, but soon I was making runs and even scored three goals before the day was over. My subsequent outings haven’t been as fruitful, but they have been just as fun.

During the game, I began to realize why they call soccer the world’s sport. As I mentioned, I think the game’s simplicity has a lot to do with it. It makes it so accessible to people of any background/language/level of wealth that it’s instantly intriguing. Then the unlimited room for improvement makes you hunger for more. Along with its universality, I discovered that despite language barriers all sports, once learned, easily translate through the actions themselves. An impressive goal makes everyone clap, and the mistakes of amateurs make everyone laugh. Luckily, I wasn't the cause of the laughter this time. This time a fellow American (it’s always us letting our country down) was unguarded and trying to save a bouncing ball from going out of bounds by flipping it over his head. He succeeded in striking the ball, but his trajectory was a bit off, and he sent it straight into his own nose, causing onlookers, regardless of language or ethnicity, to howl with laughter.

It’s moments like that, when you look over at someone with whom you could barely communicate speaking words and you both share a laugh, that you realize how relatable the human condition really is, and how much in common we all have. It may sound corny, but being a foreigner in a country where I understand little, and am often misunderstood, finding these little slivers of understanding, like the humor of a soccer ball to the nose, makes the experience a little easier and all the more enjoyable.


That’s all for now, I have to get some rest, big soccer game tomorrow. Hope all of you are doing well. I've attached some pictures of our venue for these weekly matches. It’s a pretty cool setup, entirely weatherproof (except for the heat, no way to keep that out). 





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