Tournament Fugee

by Dirk Mclean

  It was the last thing Victor looked at before leaving home.

  10

  Where Soccer Takes You

  The last time Victor was at Pearson International Airport, his family was arriving in Canada. That was at nighttime. Victor looked around at the morning travellers in the brightly lit terminal. He felt somewhat alone even though he was with a different family, a sports family. He now understood Coach Bridge’s decision to travel a day early. He recalled last year’s TV news coverage of March Break. The stories of thousands of people at airports and flight delays. March Break Madness, they had called it. They were able to avoid that.

  Outside snow was falling, but it was not storming. Victor hoped he had seen the last of that winter.

  They boarded the WestJet plane with no fuss. No one was left behind. Nothing had to be taken away by security. Everyone followed airport rules.

  And then the plane took off. Clouds, clouds and more clouds! That was all Victor saw from his window seat. Dani snored beside him while the others bobbed their heads listening to music or watched an in-flight movie.

  Victor worked on a drawing in a new sketchbook Mom had packed in his carry-on bag. In it, Coach Bridge’s eyes were looking up as if seeing the soccer ball balanced on top of his groomed hair. But Victor’s thoughts were not really on the sketch. They were on the things Islam stood for, including peace, tolerance and forgiveness. His mind focused on Randy Harris and the way he had kicked Victor to make that goal. If that goal had not been allowed the Tigers might have made the playoffs and —

  Victor had been angry at Randy Harris over the past few weeks. Now he silently forgave him. It surprised him that he felt no anger at Randy.

  Wow! That felt easy, Victor thought, easier than when I had that fight with Ozzie last September and we had to apologize to each other in front of Principal Arsenault. Because of Randy Harris’s wrongdoing, Victor was on a plane to play soccer for a whole week, against Syrian players from all parts of Canada.

  Later, the plane descended and the snowy Rocky Mountains came into view. The ragged peaks reminded Victor of Syria. Lower, still, the city began to take shape. Sunlight flooded skyscrapers, homes, vehicles moving like insects, greenery and the ocean. The plane finally bounced onto land at Vancouver International Airport.

  The Gazelles collected their luggage. Just outside the luggage claim hall, they were greeted by the local organizers of the Syrian Soccer Youth Thank You Canada Tournament.

  The Gazelles were taken to the grounds of University of British Columbia, or UBC. They arrived at the newly renovated National Soccer Development Centre, called NSDC.

  “If you want to make soccer your career, NSDC is the sports temple, sports mosque, sports church, sports Mecca,” said one of the organizers, Mr. Sanders, chuckling. “Home of the Vancouver Whitecaps FC development program.”

  I’m not thinking that far ahead in my career, thought Victor. But it’s good to know.

  The air was fresh with a cool breeze. Victor found the contrast with the freezing winds back home magical. One moment he was in winter, the next he was in spring. He thought about when Ozzie said, “Spring is coming,” as a joke. It was Victor’s reality sooner than he had thought.

  Once inside the NSDC, the Gazelles were met by the three volunteer assistants for their team. Amena, Sandra and Lilith were Syrian students at UBC. Some of the players acted silly. Victor guessed that was what happened when boys met pretty older girls.

  The Gazelles settled into their dorm rooms. Victor chose a top bunk, just like at home. He would be able to sketch there without anyone noticing.

  When they toured the Centre, Victor remembered that the first seven rounds of matches would take place at the same time on four of the Centre’s five fields. Three were grass and two were turf. Victor spotted two other teams being escorted around. He wondered if Abbas was on one of them, or if he got to come to the Centre all the time.

  Each player was given a “burner” cell phone with limited minutes to call home. Victor called Mom and Dad right away. They told him there was no change to Gabriel’s condition.

  “Focus on your trip, honey,” Mom said. “We’ll all be fine here.”

  Victor phoned Abbas. It turned out Abbas was at the Centre with his team, the Vancouver Herons. Victor and Abbas agreed to meet before dinner in the hallway outside the prayer rooms set aside for Shias and Sunnis to pray separately. The rooms were to be used for salat and for personal silence. Victor chose the location because he still couldn’t remember ever meeting Abbas.

  After a rest in their rooms, on which Coach Bridge insisted and the players took without argument, Victor went to meet Abbas. To his surprise, he recognized Abbas right away. Both were now thirteen and the same height. They talked about the weekend their families had spent together, a long time ago when they were small children. They now looked at each other as almost-grown-up teenagers.

  “I see that we play each other on Saturday,” Abbas said.

  “Yep. On grass.”

  “That your favourite surface?”

  “I’ve been getting used to turf more and more over the winter. Haven’t played on grass since November. I hope it doesn’t rain,” Victor said.

  “Yeah, right! You’re in Rain-couver, man,” Abbas laughed.

  “So, are you any good?”

  “Just watch me,” Abbas replied boldly.

  “I guess I’ll have to,” Victor said smiling.

  They walked together to the huge dining hall. It was decorated with soccer posters and photos of Canadian players and teams.

  The players collected their food and the teams sat together. A local Imam welcomed them all with a prayer and said the blessing over the food. Victor found the food tasty and looked forward to the meals they would have over the next days. When they had finished there was an announcement that the final match would be at BC Place Stadium, home of the Vancouver Whitecaps FC. Excited chatter filled the dining hall. For a fleeting moment Victor had the fantasy that the Gazelles could be lucky enough to play that final match.

  “Slow down, Victor. Seven matches. One at a time,” he whispered to himself.

  “I encourage all of you to mix and mingle as much as you can. At each meal, sit with a different team. On the field you are friendly competitors. Off the field you are all brothers,” Mr. Sanders said in a speech to all the players.

  Mix and mingle they did. But Victor was glad to go to bed early. He thought about meeting Abbas, someone he once knew. He tried to recall some of the names of the other players he met. One of the names he found easy to remember was that of a smiling new “brother” called Gabriel.

  11

  Winning and Losing

  Victor entered the prayer room on Friday morning as Raja was leaving. They nodded politely to each other. Later, they made their way to the field.

  Teams practised on the same field where they would later have their match. The Gazelles would get Field #1 for their practice first. Victor looked at the day’s game schedule posted:

  Round #11:30–3:00GTA Gazelles vs. Calgary Oranges

  Victor led the morning warm-up. The Gazelles seemed rested and energized. Coach Bridge’s main concern for the practice, once again, was communication between the players.

  When their field time was up he directed the team inside the Centre to an empty meeting room. While they drank water and juice to rehydrate, Coach Bridge informed them of the game plan. The starters would be the same as in the practice match against the Tigers. The defenders formation, in the shape of a diamond, would have Raja as stopper. He would be closer to Victor in goal. At the head of the diamond Johnny would be sweeper.

  “These could be stressful positions. I’ll have you alternate during a match or match by match,” Coach Bridge said to Raja and Johnny. Both nodded.

  “Subs Bassel and Joram, you will play second halves. Bassel, you will switch
with defenders Nabil and Anwar. While you, Joram, will switch with either a forward or a midfielder.”

  Both Bassel and Joram shrugged and smiled. They would be much more than benchwarmers.

  “Of course, this is soccer. Anything can happen,” Coach Bridge continued. “I don’t want any player too tired. You will be playing seven matches.”

  “I thought you said we would be playing eight, if you include the final,” Johnny quipped.

  “You do your part, Johnny, and we might be lucky enough to have that happen,” Coach Bridge responded. “Soccer does offer lucky chances. But they are backed by solid teamwork.”

  “What’s the intelligence on these Oranges?” Dani asked seriously.

  “Some are sour, some are sweet,” Johnny said, to many chortles. Even Coach Bridge allowed himself a smile.

  “The Department of Agriculture had nothing in their files to report,” Habib joined in.

  Victor realized that his teammates were nervous. “There’s no intelligence on any team,” said Victor. “No videos to study of their tactics. Only a few rumours.”

  “I overheard some Calgary Oranges saying that they were strong contenders,” Raja offered.

  “Are we going to take their word for it?” asked Victor.

  “Okay, team, you have a half-hour before lunch,” Coach Bridge said, looking at his watch.

  Victor used some of the time to call home. He was told that Gabriel was getting better. That set him up to head into the first match.

  * * *

  The Gazelles in their bright red shirts won the coin toss and kicked off against the Calgary Oranges. The Oranges midfielders soon wrangled the ball and charged toward the Gazelles defence. The defenders held them off repeatedly. Habib and Muta appeared weak and sluggish to Victor. He wanted his forwards to stop losing the ball so easily. The first half ended scoreless, 0–0. The Oranges had clearly been the aggressors for the first part of the match.

  “Forwards, midfielders, wake up!” Coach Bridge yelled. “The defenders can’t do all the work here.”

  The players looked down at their cleats.

  “Raise your heads. I don’t want you to feel bad. Feeling bad helps no one. I want you to be energized. It takes goals to win a match. Ask yourselves, ‘Am I playing my best?’ Get on the field and show me your best in the next thirty-five minutes.”

  “Great, Team, Attitude!” they shouted in unison.

  Early in the second half the Oranges kept hammering at the Gazelles defence. Victor continued to save shots. Then he lunged in the wrong direction. The Oranges took the lead, 0–1.

  Did anyone really hear Coach Bridge? Victor wondered. Did his words bounce off their skulls?

  Only after falling behind in the score did the Gazelles forwards wake up. The passing skills of Habib and Muta got stronger. They communicated with each other and with the midfielders. At the fifty-two-minute mark of the second half Habib scored with a header from a corner kick by midfielder Dani. The score was tied at 1–1. There were eighteen minutes left.

  Moments later, midfielder Firas got a breakaway. He sped past a now sluggish Oranges defence and fired one into the upper corner. From then, the Oranges ran out of steam. They had given their all. The Gazelles defence held them off, winning Round #1 with a score of 2–1.

  Coach Bridge congratulated the team but said no more. Victor sensed that he wanted to give more detailed notes. They could wait until next morning. Everyone was happy, even Raja.

  At dinner, Victor sat at a table with Abbas and players from Montreal and Halifax. Both boys were happy that their teams had won, with Vancouver blanking Montreal 4–0. Abbas had scored his first tournament goal. Victor realized Abbas was a striker he needed to keep an eye on.

  * * *

  Unlike the first match, the Round #2 match was set for Saturday morning to give the teams the afternoon free.

  Round #29:00–10:30GTA Gazelles vs. Vancouver Herons

  As the match started, Victor quickly saw firsthand what Abbas could do. Victor watched Abbas dance with the ball past the Gazelles midfielders and defenders to face him twice, scoring both times. With eight minutes left in the match Muta answered back for the Gazelles.

  Victor watched from his position as his teammates failed to make an equalizer. In the last three minutes, a Herons midfielder shot the ball past Victor. The final score was 1–3 in favour of the Herons.

  “You let in three cheap goals, captain,” Raja said. But he said it quietly, so only Dani and Victor heard him.

  “You could be a better defender, Raja,” Dani said, standing up for Victor. “How did those three balls, plus all the others saved by Victor get past you?”

  “Guys, guys, it’s only one match,” Victor said. As captain, he wanted to stop the argument from getting out of hand.

  Coach Bridge gathered them together. “Well, Gazelles,” he said, “you’ve tasted victory and you’ve tasted defeat. You know what both feel like now. That gives you a sense of what’s ahead over the next five matches.”

  Victor caught up with Abbas as they were heading back to the main building. “You played really well.”

  “Thanks, Victor. You made some great saves. What’s your school like?”

  “Haunted. It’s that old.”

  Abbas chuckled.

  “That’s the building,” continued Victor. “The culture is, well, many cultures.”

  As Victor spoke, he missed Ozzie. He missed eating roti with him on Friday nights. His home life seemed so far away.

  “Same here,” said Abbas. “My soccer team has players from the Philippines, El Salvador, First Nations, Liberia, Congo —”

  “No white players?”

  “We have to let a few play,” Abbas grinned.

  “Feels different now it’s just us Syrians,” Victor said.

  “Yes. A week where only soccer exists. And peace reigns. And refugees relive past memories.”

  “The way the old folks relive their youth.”

  The old — Grampa —

  “Enough of this,” Abbas said, jolting Victor from his thoughts. “I hear your team is going up Grouse Mountain this afternoon. Enjoy the heights, Victor.”

  * * *

  Amena, Sandra and Lilith escorted the Gazelles on a Skyride cable-car trip up Grouse Mountain. Victor was glad that he had listened to Amena when she said to dress warmer than usual. The cable car swayed on the way up, above snow-covered trees. Victor closed his eyes and hoped that the cables would not snap. He imagined his parents watching on TV.

  Breaking News. In Vancouver this afternoon several Syrian teenagers plunged to their deaths on Grouse Mountain. And now to the weather, Heather . . .

  The cable car stopped and they waited for the others to arrive. The wintry air was clean and pine-scented. He did not mind this brief return to winter. Spring was literally a drop away.

  Spread out below was Vancouver’s mainland in clear sunshine. To cap it off they were treated to hot chocolate, hot tea and BeaverTails pastries at Grizzly Lookout Café.

  The ride back down was more fun for Victor. He was able to appreciate the tall pines. Skiers flew past them zig-zagging. There were even snowshoers weaving between the trees.

  The Gazelles returned to NSDC in time for supper and an extra-early night’s sleep.

  Tomorrow would be a double header.

  12

  Double Header

  Victor awoke refreshed. The pure oxygen from the top of Grouse Mountain had helped him sleep deeply. He was ready for their busiest soccer day in the schedule. Victor checked the team rosters for the day’s double header. He noticed that the coaches were both women.

  Round #39:00–10:30GTA Gazelles vs. Regina Aleppos

  Lunch11:00–12:30

  Round #42:00–3:30GTA Gazelles vs. Winnipeg Green Stars

  The first match started. Victor
punted the ball to the middle of the field. Habib and Muta had fallen back in position to receive it. Habib trapped the ball and passed it to Muta. They turned and rushed the Aleppos defence. Muta dribbled the ball and bolted by their sweeper. Then he passed it across to Habib, who passed it back to him.

  “Take the shot,” Victor said under his breath. He rose up on his toes to see even better.

  Muta reacted like he had heard Victor. He shot the ball. But the Aleppos goalkeeper must have also been a mind reader. He lunged across to his left, catching the ball with ease and grace. Victor watched as the goalkeeper casually rolled the ball to a nearby defender. The Aleppos took their time dribbling the ball. Victor thought they seemed confident, to the point of being cocky.

  Victor saved the attack when it came. Aiming high, he tipped the ball backward with both gloved hands. Once more he punted the ball toward the centre of the field. That was the see-saw rhythm of the first scoreless half.

  During halftime break the Gazelles sipped water. They munched on apples and blood oranges that came all the way from China. Coach Bridge praised the Gazelles first before getting to his other notes.

  “Victor, lay off the punting in the second half. They’re expecting it now and will mark our forwards even more,” Coach Bridge said. “Like I might have mentioned before, good communication all round, guys. Another thing, if Firas has the ball and many of you are calling his name at once, Firas gets confused. Who to pass to? So, decide quickly if you’re safe to receive the ball. Call out then.”

  “Safe here, Firas,” Muta called out.

  “That’s right,” Coach Bridge smiled. “Observations?”

  “Regina Aleppos are dribbling way more than passing. Let’s take advantage of that. Attack them more without getting yellow carded, if you can,” Victor said.

  A yellow card removed a player from the field for two minutes.

  “Right. We can’t afford too many warnings and yellow cards,” Coach Bridge stated.

  And that’s what they stuck to. But try as they might, neither team managed to score. The match ended in a draw of 0–0.