In the spring of 2004, the narrator found themselves in the parking lot of a rundown apartment complex in Clarkston, Georgia, by mistake. In a hurry and frustrated, they decided to make a U-turn when they noticed a group of barefoot boys playing soccer with a raggedy ball and makeshift goalposts. This sight reminded the narrator of their own childhood in Amman, Jordan, where they often played soccer in the streets with minimal equipment. To the narrator, approaching a group of boys and joining their game was a natural thing to do.
As the narrator had a bag of new soccer balls in their car trunk due to coaching a girls’ team for the local YMCA, they decided to offer one to the boys. The boys, captivated by the sight of a new soccer ball, eagerly asked if they could have it. The narrator made it clear that they would trade the ball for the opportunity to play with them. The boys held a quick discussion and assigned the narrator to the weaker team.
During the game, the narrator realized they had to prove themselves to gain the respect of the boys. They made a skillful move, stealing the ball from an opposing player and scoring a goal. From that moment on, the boys took the narrator seriously, and they continued playing together for hours. Despite language barriers, the boys communicated using simple English words and hand gestures, and they refereed the game themselves. The narrator played in their work clothes while the boys wore a mix of hand-me-down clothing.
In the following days and weeks, the narrator returned to the parking lot regularly to join the boys in their games. The group fluctuated, with some new faces appearing and some boys missing. Nonetheless, the narrator had found a piece of their Jordanian childhood in the unlikely setting of Georgia, forging a connection through the universal language of soccer.