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Jude Dumfeh, Tribune News Service
My first soccer World Cup memory was watching Argentina’s Diego Maradona arrogantly juggling the ball on his shoulders, before the opening game of the Italia 1990 World Cup.
I watched the grainy television in Ghana, as star-studded Argentina suffered a shocking defeat to underdog Cameroon but still went to the final, eventually losing to Germany. I cheered on Cameroon, who surprised many by reaching the quarter finals, led by the 38-year-old legend Roger Milla, who danced, shaking his hips by the corner flag after scoring his goals. The Milla dance became famous in Ghana. From that tournament, I developed a special affection for Maradona, despite his personal troubles, considering him the greatest-ever soccer player.
Soccer over the years has been more than a game for me. It has been a companion, a comfort and a teacher. It is soccer in America but football in most parts of the world. It is the most popular sport worldwide, but has been playing catch-up and slowly gaining ground in the US. It is easily accessible to many, including to the poorest, and a ticket out of poverty for many players. America being a melting pot of many nations has helped grow the sport here, especially among the immigrant community, expanding the game beyond the suburbs and the “soccer mom” phenomenon. There’s anticipation that this World Cup would further propel the popularity of the game in America.
Growing up in Ghana where soccer was overwhelmingly the most popular sport, I always had a special bond with the sport from an early age. I played during recess at school, and some more at home. My school sneakers also doubled as soccer boots that got ripped up frequently from overuse. At home we all played barefoot, on the gravel fields or dusty, reddish-brown dirt roads. We would pause for cars to pass by the road, then continue again. I lacerated my big toe countless times from the sharp gravel, but that never deterred me. The kid who owned a soccer ball was held in high esteem as he could leave with his ball if angered.
I watched endless hours of soccer on television. It was great to see the lush green soccer fields under the evening stadium floodlights after we transitioned from black-and-white television to colour. We would often climb to the house roof to adjust the TV’s antennas for better pictures. I enjoyed the local Ghanaian soccer league rivalries, the African tournaments, and the European soccer leagues broadcast on Ghanaian television.
I especially fell in love with “Football Made in Germany,” which showcased the German soccer league, and I had a Saturday dinner tradition of enjoying the local Ghanaian dish “banku” while watching. I would be up late watching soccer games in different time zones from Ghana, including the 1994 World Cup in the US, and I expanded my English vocabulary by listening to soccer commentary.
When I moved to America later as a teenager, one of the challenges was getting to watch and follow soccer due to the limited coverage. I felt starved. It was a special treat watching the 2002 World Cup hosted by Japan and South Korea, while on campus in college doing summer research. There was such a bond with international students also staying on campus, watching live games together before the break of dawn. Over the years it has been heartwarming to see the growth of soccer in the U.S. culminating in more access to games.
Over time I have seen my love for soccer grow, evolve and become even more tangible. As I went through my journey to become a physician, through medical school and residency, I came to appreciate even more the special place soccer had in my life.
It was not just a sport I loved to play, watch and follow. Soccer was a lifelong companion throughout each stage of my life, marking different milestones. I was on a medical volunteer trip to Kenya with other students in 2005 knowing Ghana had a crucial World Cup qualifier against South Africa. I was elated to log onto the slow browser in the internet cafe to find out Ghana won!
