The National Team || dos santos

[ 5 ] Futbol Game

[ 5 ] Futbol Game 

The little boy we met on the street was waiting for us out on the street where we met him earlier. Accompnaied by a groupd of friends, he soon led us all to a nearby dirt lot which would serve as the venue where the football game would take place. Giovani and I had purchased a cooler, a bag of ice to put in it, some drinks, and several dozen tortas from a small food stand nearby. 

While Giovani set the children up into teams, the girls and a few adults helped me distribute food. But the little boys were much more interested in their game. The tortas went quickly and I reserved just enough for the boys to eat after the game.

After distributing the drinks, I closed the cooler and used it as a chair, watching the boys get to their positions before the starts of the game. From a few feet off, Giovani called out, "I thought you said you wanted to play." He said in a taunting voice, a smile playing on his lips.

I crinkled up my nose. "I'd rather just watch you guys. I don't want to inhale clouds of dust."

"No vaya a ser que te ensucies." He joked. God forbid you'll get dirty.

I played along, doing a hair flick. "That's right. I'm too beautiful to play futbol with a peasant like you."

"Mueres por jugar futbol conmigo." He chuckled, you're dying to play futbol with me. 

"In your dreams." She shot back. "Now go play with the children. I think it goes without say that I'll be cheering for them."

Giovani stuck a hand into his jeans' pocket and got his cellphone out. Tossing it at me like it was nothing inportant, he said, "Take care of it for me, yeah? I don't want it to break or something during the game." I was just about to point out the irony in his request when he turned away from me and went to begin the game. It was almost comical to me to see him surrounded by a bunch of children and he was the only adult there. It was a fun game to watch and Giovani was going easy on them, they were children after all. I was busy with my eyes trained on the boys on the dirt field when a little girl came to stand next to me. 

She didn't say anything at first, she only watched me shyly. I turned to look at her, barely noticing she was even there and a smile tugged at my lips. "Hey."

"Hi." The little girl said.

I slid over on the cooler to allow her some space to sit and then patted the spot next to me. She sat without saying a word and I attempted to make conversation with her. "Don't you want to play futbol with the boys?"

She shook her head. "I don't know how to play. And I don't understand why they would chase after a ball for fun."

Giggling at her comment, I defended, "Its actually very interesting. But don't worry. Its okay if you don't like it now. I used to get really angry when my dad spent his entire weekend watching futbol on tv. I remember thinking exactly what you just said: why would they find it interesting to kick a ball around for ninety minutes? Tell you what, we can do something else. How about we just sit here and talk, and cheer for the boys? Or you can help me boo at my friend." I grinned at the idea as it came to me.

"Who's your friend?" The little girl wondered.

"You see that boy over there?" I pointed at him, the biggest and oldest of all the ones playing futbol. "El negrito pesado de alla." The obnoxious little black guy over there. 

She nodded, "My friend is playing futbol too. His name is Giovani and I call him mocoso."

"You must be Karola." I guessed with a smile. When she nodded in confirmation, I told her, "Little Giovani told me about you."