This story originated from Sol del Valle and has been translated for our English readers.
“Pibe” is a word used to refer to a “kid” in Colombia and other South American countries.
As they say in the movie “Rudo y Cursi” by Carlos Cuarón, “Life is like soccer: everyone wants the ball, but the ball doesn’t want everyone.”
Happiness moves around the same way as that little freckled ball: if you’ve got it, you’ve got to pass it. Hold onto it too long, and sooner or later, you’re going to lose it. Sometimes with style, sometimes with a bit of a rough slide.
It’s clear that pick-up soccer has been a staple in the Roaring Fork Valley for a long time. Pick-up isn’t just soccer; it’s a multicultural meet-up, a space to socialize and get some exercise. It’s all-inclusive. It doesn’t care about gender, age, immigration status, social class or profession. Not even weight or size. Especially weight, for those of us who’ve already passed the 30 mark.
Some of us identify with those “wooden-legs” or “butterfinger” idioms, and no longer run but are the geniuses of the team — using their brains to outplay everyone. Then there are the guys who want to conquer the world with every stride and still dream of going pro.
There, you meet your inner child — the one who still dreams of being Ronaldinho, Messi or Cuauhtémoc every time the ball touches your feet. For many, it’s the happiest moment of the week. Constructive immaturity.
It’s hard to describe what it feels like to step onto the grass, with the sound of sprinklers and the beautiful view of Mount Sopris. It’s tough to shake off the sound of footsteps on the wood floors of the gyms the schools let us use.
Man, it’s just not the same playing here as it is anywhere else in the world. Here, you’re playing and hiking at the same time. Somehow, you’re making poetry with the ball.
In winter, you can head to the schools or recreation centers. In the summer, there are leagues at Colorado Mountain College or pick-up games all across the Valley. It’s co-ed, and if you haven’t joined, just ask around at these spots. The only real risk is ending up in a WhatsApp group, getting added to updates about when games are happening and receiving endless soccer memes.
Nothing sets us apart.
We’re all equals on the field. One of these strangers might just give you a moment of joy, a great conversation or even help you get past something that was weighing on you during the week. You can land a job, make a great friend, bump into your kids’ teacher or get a solid restaurant recommendation.
You never lose in this game.
And here’s another thought from the movie I mentioned earlier. “They say the first wars of humanity happened between brothers, and later the game was born to avoid them, symbolically mimicking those wars. It’s a shame that nowadays, we confuse war with the game, and the game with war. Especially among brothers.”
We don’t plan it, we just get carried away by an uncontrollable anxiety that sometimes leads to these debates. I don’t blame those who watch us from afar, we’re kind of obsessed. When we get home, we talk about how “this person couldn’t take the ball from me; how I nutmegged this guy; how they tried to pick a fight but then ran away from my unstoppable strength … I am the “Pibe” of my valley (alluding to the song by Dr.Kapula, “Pibe de mi Barrio,” which I highly recommend).
Then, we’re sore all week, proud to limp around. Some say at the “after-party” to drink lemonade with turmeric; it’ll help you feel better. Others would say, just stretch it out — a cold beer or a burrito from La García’s will do the trick. In the end, nothing really matters!
Recently, a group of Sunday league pro players organized a BBQ on the last day of fall to celebrate the end of the season. Everyone was invited, along with their families. You can really tell when you see families coming together just how much a ball can mean and what it transcends.
It’s a culture that unites us through the ball, but also through friendship and fair play. A street and neighborhood culture, where many of us made a “nutmeg” past poverty or scored a goal against the dangerous feeling of emptiness.
That’s when you realize we’re a multicultural valley, and you can’t help but wonder why there’s so much stupidity in this world. When social cohesion through play was invented so long ago. When sometimes, unity and collective happiness show up in the form of a freckled, round ball.
