{Orlando with a group of schoolchildren in Xalapa, Veracruz}
On a chilly winter evening in Xalapa, Veracruz, Cora and I pulled into the arena parking lot for yet another basketball game. Orlando would be playing that evening against yet another rival, for yet another hopeful victory, while suffering through bumps, bruises, and bad knees. When your toddler is cranky and you’re dragging her to sit in a cold gym for the 800th time, it’s easy to wonder if this is all worth it. Is it worth the pain and time apart our family has to endure? Is it worth the road trips, the ice baths, and the number of times my daughter has asked, “Where’s daddy?”
But then I heard it. My head was buried in the car, fishing out toys, diaper bags, and coats, but I could hear it over the hum of the motor. Bang, crunch, bang, crunch. Over and over again. The little boy couldn’t have been older than 10, but he was dribbling a beat up basketball through the gravel on the way to watch his hometown team play on their home court. His eyes lit up at the sight of the arena, and his parents smiled gently to see their son enjoying himself so. This is what Orlando’s playing for, I thought. Not for the fame or the glory, but for the little kid inside him that was saved by basketball. For the hundreds of other kids that might be encouraged to keep going, push for a dream, or just stay off the streets because they saw a professional team play in a little town in Mexico when they were young. Fútbol (soccer) has obviously done this for generations, but basketball in Mexico is starting to make its mark as well. When those athletes take the game day stage, you just never know who they could be impacting at that moment.
The sound of that basketball so many months ago has stuck with me until this day. The sounds of a soccer ball being passed between children is more or less an ordinary one in Mexico, but a basketball being dribbled…not so much. My husband is playing so that it becomes a commonplace cacophony. So that children in Mexico know they have opportunities beyond their current circumstances if they’re willing to work hard enough. So they know that basketball can pave the way for education, a career, and a work ethic that will take them above and beyond what they believed was possible.
I’ll keep that sound in my heart as we begin the journey to Spain for the FIBA World Cup Championships in just a few days. When I feel the jet lag start seeping in, I’ll remember: bang, crunch, bang, crunch. Somewhere, half a world away, there will be children watching to see my husband and his teammates compete at the highest level in sports for the country they love. I know the “12 guerreros” (warriors) as they are called will make their nation proud, and the sound of a basketball in Mexico will only continue to grow. That, above all else, makes the trials and tribulations worth it. For our family, for Orlando, and for Mexico. ¡VAMOS!
XO,
A
