Headers and Hospitals

I casually mentioned in a previous post that I was currently training with a soccer team here in South Africa and that I would devote a later entry to that topic alone.  Well, much time has passed, and given that I played in my first official game this past Saturday, I figured now would be the appropriate moment.

As soon as I moved to Warrenton and the local teacher who serves as my quasi-chaperone discovered I was a soccer player, he began doing research regarding the local teams.  Apparently, one was ill-disciplined with players not showing up to training yet still getting playing time whereas the other one was more of a no-nonsense professionalism with a strict no-train, no-play policy.  The teacher recommended the latter to me and considering that I have some annoying experience with teams where players not at practice are in the starting lineup, I accepted the teacher’s advice.  

That was more than 4 weeks ago.  Since then I have been training Mondays through Thursdays from 4:00 to 6:00 pm.  After my initial practice, the coach decided he wanted to register me, which for most players is no more than a two or three day process.  Unfortunately, though, because I am not a South African citizen, my application got held up for a month.  The South African Football Association (SAFA) official wanted a work permit (even though the league is semi-professional and the players are not paid), which given I am a Peace Corps volunteer, I do not have.  We went back and forth with my coach and I giving the bureaucrat numbers of people at Peace Corps in Pretoria to call to explain my “job” and permission to be here but to no avail. 

When the man found out I did not have a work permit, he said that I would have to go to the Department of Home Affairs to get a document stating my reason for being here even though my visa says it, and I had given him another paper attesting to my role.  In South Africa, perhaps more so than other places, it is all about whom you know.  My teacher chaperone has a friend who is also a SAFA official, and the teacher mentioned the situation to his friend.  The SAFA friend promptly spoke with the official who had been holding up my registration, and basically told him to stop dicking around and register me.  Wouldn’t you know it, only a few days later, my registration was approved, and I got to compete in my first official match this past Saturday.

The league I play in is semi-professional and regional, kind of like the 4^th division of South African soccer.  The top league is the Premier Soccer League, followed by the National First Division, followed by the Vodacom League, followed by my league, the Castle League.  Anyways, I finally got my registration card and got to lace up the boots for my first official game playing for the Young Stars, my team.  We traveled to the closest big town, Kimberley, for the match.  Having arrived, there were dressing rooms, a team sheet listing the starting 11 as well as the substitution bench that had to be submitted to the referees several minutes prior to kickoff among other trappings of athletic professionalism or semi-professionalism.  I could tell the crowd was somewhat intrigued to see a tall White guy come out of the dressing room tunnel and line up on the field as starting center forward.

As luck would have it though, in only the 7^th minute, I went up for a header on a corner and knocked noggins with a defender from the opposing side.  Immediately afterwards, I felt something dripping and looked down at my hand to see that I was making a generous blood donation to the soil.  I went off to my team bench, where my coach started applying water and talking about substituting me.  I told him that there was no way in Hell I had just waited 4 weeks to be able to play, only to come off in the first 10 minutes.  He remonstrated with me, but I would have none of it.  I had them tie a bandage around the wound, and I re-entered the field.

Soon after, there was another corner kick, which I headed, and in the process caused myself to start bleeding again.  I was once again sent off the field, and this time I told the athletic trainer to make sure he wrapped the bandage nice and tight to prevent this from happening again.  Such wrapping was duly applied, and I played the rest of the game without further problems.  To top it all off, I scored the only goal of the game in the second half off of, what else?, a header.

It was only after the game had finished and we had made the 45 minute trip back to Warrenton that I finally made it to the hospital.  The nurses there took one look at my war-torn body and promptly had me lie down so they could apply several stitches.  I’m still not exactly sure how the health system works, but apparently the hospital I went to is a public hospital because no payment was ever asked for or required (which for an American, believe me, is quite strange).

So all in the course of one day, I embarked on my South African semi-professional career, scored the game-winner in my first game, and got to experience the South African healthcare system.  I guess the only question then, reader, is, What did YOU do today?

Also, some readers have expressed complaints that I have not been providing any photos of my African experiences, so as a somewhat gruesomely humorous response, I have included, for your enjoyment and disgust, a picture of my new battle scar.

 

South African English Word of the Day (definition and word origin courtesy of Oxford English Dictionary)

As you may have already noticed, many of the South African English words I have defined sound quite Dutch since they are either derived from Afrikaans or are the Afrikaans word itself (Afrikaans started out as a Dutch dialect).  Today’s example is no exception:

Stoep – a veranda in front of a house

Example: Let's have our tea out on the stoep.

Stoep is related to the current English word “step” given that “step” traces its origins to the Old English word “stœpe”.