What a day, what a privilege, what pictures in the mind to take with us the rest of our lives. Our Spain tour continues to be so beautiful and rewarding.
(Note: while the blog is meant to be done in installments, I suspect you will need to read this one entry in installments. It covers two and a half days [and might take almost as long to read!].)
Sunday dawned just as bright and hot as Saturday. A rather tired crew – we got back from the Atletico-Real game at about 1.15am – our players looked groggy. But an 11am friendly match against a local group, which forms an important part of our school’s ongoing Round Square Service initiatives, meant that the cobwebs had to be shed and cleats had to be donned.
Cleats were donned and additional cleats were brought for our opponents. Originally, we were to travel to a Roma camp to enjoy this cultural exchange. But the logistics and timing proved to be too difficult. Instead, a group of local homeless men (and one woman) were our ‘opponents’. I am not sure that is the best term, since the morning of soccer proceeded in such an amicable and a warm manner that ‘opponents’ would belie that reality.
The game was played on La Ciudad’s goalkeeper training pitch, which was ideal for the 7v7 format that we utilized for this game. Our players – finely-tuned soccer machines that they are – started the game at the same pace they might approach a BC Championship semi-final game. No sooner had it started than we were up by a few goals. Without any coaxing or admonishment from me, our kids quickly realized that this game was to be played at a Spanish pace: so out went a downhill skiing pace and in came a tango. Once our astute and sensitive kids had made this adjustment, our Spanish friends were able to show their skills; and our kids were able to enjoy soccer for the sake of soccer. I have no idea what the final score might have been. There were a lot of goals, much laughter, and some moments of rare skill.
It was the aftermath of the game that was particularly poignant. The two teams exchanged meaningful handshakes, and then both teams grouped together on the hill surrounding the field. Our kids handed over their donated cleats, along with other Canadian paraphernalia (maple leaf-strewn mittens, toques, etc). Our Spanish friends received them with gratitude. I was particularly grateful for the captains’ speeches, following the exchanges. Their captain – their goalkeeper – spoke first. He had been a member of two Spanish squads that had gone to the two most recent Homeless World Cups, in Milan and in Copenhagen. He spoke of his gratitude for the opportunity to play soccer at such a level, despite the inherent obstacles he had faced in his life. Our captains were brief, but were also kind, thoughtful, and funny. Perhaps the most beautiful moment of the morning was courtesy of the two youngest people at the event. Wishing to show her excitement at being in the presence of a young lady close in age to her from another continent, a little girl from the Spanish group wandered up to Lily Brice. The whole group watched as Lily’s new friend first went in for a hug, but then decided a brief smooch was infinitely preferable. The crowd cheered as a lovely opportunity to live the values of cultural connection and exchange were all sealed with a kiss.
After showers came a lunch in the same marketplace where we ate Friday night. The vast majority of the group chose the lovely bar that provided all manner of crepes, with a menu and quality that would gratify even the most discerning of eaters.
We boarded our tour bus at about 3pm for our one-hour journey to Toledo. As the adults observed our tired kids, we shared some concern that perhaps an excursion to Toledo would be excessive. Well … I should be a little clearer: Justin and I, the two coaches, voiced this concern to each other. Yet we are also joined by a teacher of History on this tour; and so Mrs. Bruce-Lockhart allayed my fears by quietly suggesting that an opportunity to visit a remarkable place like this would in fact reinvigorate the kids. She was, as ever, on the mark.
Toledo has been populated since the Bronze Age. It is a medieval city on a vast hill, bordered by the Tagus River. The city was designed like a labyrinth, so that would-be invaders might be (at the very least) delayed in their exhortations. It contains: many historical sites, such as the Alcazar of Toledo; as well as its cathedral; and the Zocodover, its central marketplace. It also was the center of sword- and knife-production from the 15th Century through to the 18th Century.
So into this breathtaking backdrop descended the Senores and Senoritas from Victoria. The group split up, and happily there was an excursion to meet every need. Many of the girls went shopping, James Darke somehow found a rare wine store, Will Anderson somehow bought a cape, and most of the grade ten boys purchased swords (kidding … mainly). Gabe Mullin, very impressively, insisted on leading the grade twelve lords around the labyrinth that is Toledo. His last words, before we parted, were: ‘No guys, I've got this: I will lead you with the instincts of a salmon swimming upstream.’ As one might have divined, they got hopelessly lost.
That left Mrs. Bruce-Lockhart, Justin, the grade eleven boys, and I. We went to the cathedral. I was impressed that the boys were willing to join us. I was more impressed by how moved they were by the beauty inside the church. Beyond its architecture, monuments, colors, gold, and atmosphere, there were the paintings. In the cathedral’s sacristy were some of the most impressive religious paintings I have ever seen. Works from El Greco, van Dyck, and Goya were the highlights; but the entire experience was moving. We also had a brief but joyous meeting with Liz and Doug (Connell), who seemed impressed that our Soccer Tour was not just soccer stadiums and soccer balls; far more than that, I want these 35 kids to experience a different culture as fully as possible.
To that end, the Real Madrid coaches, our guide Luis, and others who have come into contact with our kids have remarked many positive things: for one, this is the first Canadian soccer group that any of them have seen in Spain; and for another, they have observed that our kids seem so naturally curious about everything they encounter. This, in opposition to so many groups who come here only to recreate the conditions from home. I have been so impressed with all aspects of my players’ attitudes, on this trip.
So we returned a very tired but happy group to La Ciudad. Yesterday morning, we had to depart very early – but for thrilling reasons. We were being replaced, in our dorms, by the Spanish National team, who were arriving only hours after we left!
Yesterday was devoted to soccer training. Our players had two excellent sessions, made all the more impressive by the fact that it was 20+ degrees throughout the day. It was gratifying for me and Justin to see that the Spanish coaches provide such a similar message to ours. Namely: possession, shape, simplicity, and beauty are more important than their less sophisticated cousins, such as long kicks, physicality being privileged over skill, and a win-at-all costs mentality. While the message is familiar, it is refreshing for the kids to have different coaching voices and experiences.
Between sessions, we toured Real Madrid’s full facilities. Structured in a progressively ascending architectural design, one moves physically higher up as they progress through each level of the organization: the youth teams are at ground level; the reserve teams are higher up; and the 1st team is located at the top of the complex. The team is partially sponsored by Audi, so the 1st team players are obligated to drive their own (free) Audi to the training complex every day. Poor lambs. We were extremely fortunate to be allowed to enter the Press Room (a rarity, I am told). Not only did we get to see where Jose Mourinho flabbergasts the press, daily, but we were able to look out upon the first team training pitches. From Sunday’s cathedral visit to the view of these fields, the term ‘religious experience’ becomes inherently flexible.
A tour of downtown Madrid, led by our eccentric, umbrella-toting guide (who used it partially as a wand and primarily as a cane) was a leisurely end to a demanding day on the pitch.
Today, both groups enjoyed excellent training sessions as they prepare for their opening games. The boys play San Fernando CF (Club de Futbol) at 6.15 and our girls play Alcobendas CF at 8.15; then out for a late, Madrileno, meal!
I leave all of you with this remarkable piece of news. Since we arrived here, Friday, I have – very subtly and only occasionally – been asking Luis whether there was any chance we could watch the Spanish National team train. OK, that is a complete lie: I have asked Luis about this every hour or so, since Friday. Yesterday, we were able to tell our kids that we will be heading back to La Ciudad tomorrow evening to watch the Spanish National team in its final training session before their European qualifier against the Czech Republic. Unbelievable!
Thursday, most of the day is spent traveling to Barcelona. I suspect that the 4th blog entry will not be until late Thursday night or even until Friday morning. I hope everyone is well, back home. If you made it all the way through this post, then you are a hardy soul.
