Tournament Fugee Read online

  * * *

  Rest. Lunch. Rest.

  There was a cool breeze when they took to the field. The Winnipeg Green Stars were dressed in, yes, green. Their jerseys had the same green stars as on the Syrian flag.

  Victor led the Gazelles as they shouted in unison, “Great, Team, Attitude!”

  Victor’s reading of the first thirty-five minutes was two teams evenly matched in strength, skill and vitality. By the end of the first half they had traded goals. One for you. One for me. One for you. One for me. The score was 2–2. Habib was the only Gazelle scorer.

  “Hayyan, Malik, both of you are taking too much time with throw-ins,” Coach Bridge said at halftime. “If the ball goes over the sideline and you get to throw it in, find someone quickly. The longer you take, the more time you give your opposition to get organized.”

  Victor decided there was only one thing to do to change the outcome. He shared with his team the secret tactic of Double Speed. When his school team had been playing against Ozzie and his Nigerian friends, Ozzie United had used it against Victor United. And Hall United, when they combined forces, had used it against the Kingston Bluffers.

  “Double Speed can be used by the defence to frustrate the other team. Or it can be used by the offence to weaken them enough to score goals,” Victor said, pausing. “But it is like a — a sword with both edges. Because the team using it can be weakened as well.”

  “We’re taking a big risk,” Raja spoke up. “It might be foolish to try it.”

  “At this point we need goals if we want to win,” Coach Bridge said. He turned to Victor. “Your idea, captain. Your call.”

  “We have two fresh players. Bassel is replacing Anwar. Joram is replacing Hayyan,” Victor said. “Hey, we’re named after gazelles, right? Gazelles are fast. I call Offensive Double Speed.”

  “Coach, keep Anwar in as sweeper,” Raja said. “I’ll step out.”

  Victor knew that Anwar, the right defender in the diamond shape, didn’t have much experience as a sweeper. But could he surprise them?

  “Guys, think of —” Victor paused, hoping he would pronounce the word he was thinking of correctly, “— decathletes. Two days. Ten events. The last one is a 1600 metre run. Today, we have thirty-five more minutes. Tomorrow is a day off to recover. This is like a 1600 metre race,” exclaimed Victor.

  Allah, I hope this works, they’re depending on me, he thought as he took his position in goal.

  Thirty-five minutes seemed to go by faster than it ever had. Victor was sure Raja was wishing he was part of the thrilling second half.

  Firas scored. Bam!

  Habib scored. Bam! He completed a hat trick.

  Muta scored. Bam!

  The final score was 5–2.

  Coach Bridge is like a teenager on a roller coaster, Victor observed. He was elated that the Double Speed tactic had worked in their favour. I can’t wait to tell Ozzie about today.

  “Good call, captain,” Raja said.

  Victor nodded to him. He saw that Raja regretted not being a part of the success.

  * * *

  Swimming was scheduled for two teams at a time at the UBC pool. That afternoon it was the Gazelles and Montreal Gold Hawks. The teams had not yet played against each other in the tournament. Victor had met some of their players at meals.

  The pool was divided down the middle. One side was for continuous swim in lanes. The other side was for games and fun activities. The lanes were longer than those at Malvern Community Centre. Victor found the water was cool and refreshing. He loved swimming. The past winter he had been too busy with soccer to enjoy a swim. He moved through the water slowly and smoothly, while others frolicked in the shallow end of the other side, tossing around a water polo ball.

  Victor emptied his mind until it was clear as water. Whenever thoughts entered his head he simply let them flow out. Mom. Dad. Gabriel. School. Ozzie. Leelah. Teammates. Coach. Gabriel. Ball. Sun. Raja. Grouse Mountain. Mountain. Grampa. Gabriel. Grampa. Breathing. Water.

  He swam under the divider into the recreational area. The activity from the others had stirred up the water into little waves. He rolled onto his back and floated, letting the water carry him wherever it wished.

  13

  Dolphin Blues

  Victor remembered Principal Arsenault’s suggestion that he try to get to Stanley Park. He ended up going in a group made up of Gazelles, Halifax Sandpipers and Winnipeg Green Stars. Some went to the Vancouver Aquarium at the heart of the park. Abbas and Victor rented bikes. At the entrance Victor bent his head backwards to take in the images on the super tall totem poles.

  Abbas was the ideal guide. He had explored the park with his friends. Their aim was to bike around the entire park. Sometimes they rode side by side, other times in single file. The air was scented with early spring flowers. Victor could also smell the rich earth. Birds sang to each other. Some areas were hilly with steep descents. Victor got glimpses of the bay through the trees. Light bounced off the water.

  Victor and Abbas talked about escaping Syria. They told their own stories and the stories they heard from other players.

  “Poor Lasar. He lost his mother and sister in the Mediterranean Sea so close to Turkey,” Abbas said.

  Victor knew that Abbas had lost his father and older brothers that way too. He thought he should let Abbas decide if he wanted to talk about that. “We heard that route gave only a fifty-fifty chance of getting across. The boats were always too full,” Victor said.

  “People were desperate. There was no going back,” Abbas said sadly.

  They rode along the Seawall with the water on one side, hugging the hillside on the other.

  “In Lebanon, we were helped by a family,” said Victor. “The Simons.”

  “Muslims?” Abbas asked.

  “No, Christians. They treated us like family.”

  “You were lucky, then.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Victor wondered if he should mention Grampa to Abbas.

  They returned the bikes and hiked toward the aquarium, munching on lunches packed by the Soccer Centre’s catering staff. The long entrance line moved quickly. Soon they were inside with the others.

  For Victor, the most thrilling part of the aquarium was being nose to nose with a dolphin. He looked at her eyes through the thick glass. He felt like she knew him, like she was telling him something. He did not hear words, but he felt his heart opening wider and wider in his chest. And he could not stop grinning.

  * * *

  Victor called home before supper. Mom and Dad sounded upbeat. But he sensed there was something they were not saying.

  “Yes, they’re feeding us well, Mom,” Victor assured her. “Put Dad on again.”

  “I love you, honey.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  There was a pause before Dad came on the line.

  “Dad, what’s Mom not telling me?”

  “Gabriel has double pneumonia. His system was quite weak. But he’s getting the best care.”

  “I thought he was getting better,” Victor said.

  “He’s on stronger medication now. He’ll be feeling better in no time. We have to go now. Don’t worry, son. Bye.”

  Victor turned off the phone. “Double pneumonia? I thought pneumonia was bad,” he said to no one in particular.

  Abbas passed by at that moment.

  “What do you know about double pneumonia, Abbas?” Victor asked.

  “Is there such a thing? I’ve only heard about pneumonia. And I know it’s pretty serious.”

  Victor told Abbas about Gabriel. “They keep telling me not to worry. But that’s exactly what I do. I couldn’t bear to lose my brother.” He remembered Abbas’s loss. It was too late.

  Abbas saw the horrified look on Victor’s face. “I’m okay about it, Victor,” he said. “Every
one’s had some kind of loss. But your brother’s in a Canadian hospital. He’ll have good care.”

  “That’s where it went from pneumonia to double pneumonia.”

  They walked together to supper. Victor ate mainly to keep his energy up. Before he went to sleep he made two quick sketches of the dolphin he had seen at the aquarium. Sleep came, but soon he was wide awake again. He tossed from side to side. He couldn’t stop thinking about Grampa and Gabriel. Is Grampa angry with me because I didn’t tell Abbas about him? Is Gabriel dying?

  Eventually, he fell into a short sleep.

  * * *

  The remaining three matches were scheduled in the mornings with afternoons free.

  Round #59:00–10:30GTA Gazelles vs Halifax Sandpipers

  “No, I don’t need help with that,” Victor snapped at Dani during halftime. The match against the Halifax Sandpipers was not going well for the Gazelles. They were being outplayed with tremendous skill on every line. The score was 1–3. Dani had managed the lone goal for the Gazelles.

  What’s my defence doing? Victor asked himself. What am I doing?

  “You have thirty-five minutes to get back in the match. Possession. Possession. Possession,” Coach Bridge emphasized.

  Coach Bridge handed Victor a bottle of juice. The only thing he said was, “Keep alert.”

  The second half did not start much better. Then Habib found his form and scored twice. But the last goal was not allowed because he had been offside, so the final score was 2–4.

  When they were shaking hands with the Halifax Sandpipers, Victor noticed Raja shaking his head at him.

  “I’m sorry,” said Victor to his team. “I feel like I’ve let you down.”

  “Everyone has a bad day, sometimes,” Dani said coming to his defence.

  While everyone scattered, Raja muttered, “Only weak goalkeepers need to say they’re sorry.”

  Victor felt like punching him. Coach Bridge could see his anger. He told Victor he wanted to meet with him after lunch. Victor walked away. It was the mature thing to do. He looked back in time to see Coach Bridge and Raja laughing. Are they laughing at me?

  During lunch Victor recapped the tournament so far: Win, loss, draw, win, loss. Not great. He decided that Coach Bridge was likely going to replace him as goalkeeper with Raja. And then Raja would be captain also.

  Victor headed to the dorm room. No one else was there. He started packing his suitcase.

  Victor debated with himself. “I’ll speak first. No, I’ll hear what Coach has to say. No, I’ll go first. I’ll tell him to replace me with Raja and send me home. Then I can be with Gabriel,” he said aloud.

  At Coach Bridge’s suggestion they walked through UBC Botanical Garden. The sky was overcast but the sun peeked through the clouds. Coach Bridge began speaking before Victor could say anything.

  “I had a wife in Syria,” Coach Bridge said. “We divorced. No children. She remarried. Some of my friends ended up dead. Martyrs. For what? When the troubles got worse, I had no reason to stay.”

  Victor did not know if he wanted a response.

  “We are not the first people to leave a homeland by force, Victor. And we must not feel guilty for getting away and for surviving while others perished.”

  Victor thought that Coach Bridge was still feeling some kind of guilt despite his words. Maybe that’s what drove him to be part of the tournament. He needed to find some purpose for continuing.

  “Victor, you’re a terrific goalkeeper. You think quickly on your feet. You anticipate an opponent’s moves. You’ve inspired the team. They trust you. That match against Regina — nil-nil. Flawless.”

  Victor listened, surprised. He still wanted to say that he should be replaced as captain, but the words could not come out.

  “Today, your energy and your focus — they were not there. What happened?”

  “I didn’t sleep well.”

  “It happens. Not every day will be flawless. Don’t expect it,” Coach Bridge said. “You’ve adjusted to this new life. You’ve found a passion in soccer. Keep that. Let it carry you to other things.”

  “My brother has double pneumonia,” Victor blurted out. “I found out yesterday.”

  They stopped walking. Coach Bridge looked at Victor. “That kind of news is a lot to carry around, even for an adult.”

  Victor told him the whole story, starting with taking Gabriel tobogganing.

  “He’s getting the care that he needs, Victor. I’m glad you told me. I’ve noticed that you are kind and show concern for others. They call that compassion. It’s a good thing. If you want to talk more, I’m available anytime, day or night. Okay?”

  “Okay, Coach.”

  Victor felt a little better about Gabriel. But Grampa’s death still weighed on his mind. He spent a long time alone in the prayer room. He did not sketch anything that day.

  In bed, he dozed off easily and slept for ten hours straight.

  14

  Stories We Tell

  Victor was watching a highlight reel of Wayne Greenish, along with the other seven tournament captains. After the applause ended, the soccer star sat with them in a circle.

  “This workshop is about you, leaders.” Wayne Greenish looked around at each of them. “I’ve watched all your teams so far, even if it was just portions of matches. I’m impressed with your talent. Yes, you too, St. John’s Euphrates,” he said, winking at the captain from his hometown.

  “The role of captain, as leader, is a flexible one,” Greenish continued. “It changes from age level to age level, from national matches to international ones. And at each level the pressure is different. So, what makes a good leader?”

  One by one hands shot up.

  “One who thinks clearly.”

  “A good listener to teammates.”

  “Someone who cares about the team.”

  “Admits mistakes.”

  “Understands the game completely and can help the team because of that,” Victor said.

  “Yes, mastery,” Wayne Greenish agreed. “What else?”

  “Works harder than his teammates.”

  “Has a sense of responsibility.”

  “Let’s stop there. No wrong answers, really. For the purpose of this workshop we’ll focus on responsibility.”

  Wayne Greenish organized two groups of four. The captains shared examples of how they had acted with responsibility on and off the field. Victor learned a lot. But he avoided sharing that he had not been responsible enough about Gabriel.

  “Don’t be afraid of making decisions — quick decisions, hard decisions,” Wayne Greenish advised. Then he sent them off to their morning matches with a final note. “As captains, leaders, yours is not the only perspective on the field. You have a team with other thoughts and ideas you can use, whether you all agree or not. Teamwork. There’s nothing like it. Keep studying this game. What you learn will apply whether you lead a high school team, an MLS team, a retail store, a marketing department or even a country. And like we say in Newfoundland, ‘long may your big jib draw.’ That means ‘May you have good fortune for a long, long time!’”

  Then he shook each of them by the hand.

  * * *

  Round #69:00–10:30GTA Gazelles vs. St. John’s Euphrates

  During the warm-up for the match against the St. John’s Euphrates, Habib complained of a headache. Victor told Coach Bridge. He thought about the leaders workshop from just twenty minutes before. So he took quick action and asked Amena to fetch one of the medics who were on stand-by for the players. Habib was given a pill for the pain and escorted to his room to rest.

  “Joram will replace Habib for the first half. We’ll see how Habib feels at halftime,” Coach Bridge announced to the team.

  Victor knew that Habib was being taken care of. But Habib was a key player and their top scorer. Joram had al
ways subbed in the second half. How would he be as a starter?

  The St. John’s Euphrates team was from Newfoundland and Labrador on the east coast. They started off strong, like the mighty currents of the Syrian river they were named after. Joram and Muta took a while to get a rhythm of passing going. It was clear to Victor that both defences were strong. Both he and the Euphrates goalkeeper saved or deflected the shots to their goals.

  By halftime they were scoreless: 0–0. Coach Bridge consulted with Victor. “Habib’s headache has eased a lot,” Coach Bridge told him.

  “That’s good news, Coach,” Victor said, gulping some water.

  “I want Joram to continue.”

  “He’s playing well with Muta, I admit. But he hasn’t played a full match with us,” Victor argued.

  “Do you believe in Joram’s skills?”

  Victor thought about that. The leaders workshop was fresh in his brain. “Yeah — of course.”

  “Then we let Habib rest. He’s contributed a lot to the team already. We’ll need him fresh for our last match tomorrow.”

  Victor nodded. But he hoped they would do better than another draw. He did not have to wait long to find out.

  Victor watched the ball. He saw a pair of familiar feet dribbling the ball. Other, opposing feet chased. The Gazelles feet moved to the right with speed and lightness. The right foot stopped the ball. The Euphrates feet moved past, unable to stop. The Gazelles foot kicked the ball up, over to a teammate. The new Gazelles feet ran past the Euphrates feet with triple speed. Then they stopped and the right foot trapped the ball to control it and fired it into the net.

  A huge grin appeared on Victor’s face as his teammates mobbed a happy Joram, who had scored his first goal of the tournament.

  Victor’s confidence soared. He saw everything with a clearer head. He directed his teammates, anticipating the moves of Euphrates forwards and midfielders. After all, he had studied them during the first half.

  “Raja, watch out for that striker!” he shouted.

  “Yes, boss.”