ROAR OF THE FAITHFUL

I guess this is what 40 feels like… 

Summer has come and passed, another season gone so fast …

A few weeks ago we wrapped up a wonderful season that saw us play some really good footy. We improved on our previous season’s record and topped our division table. There were some situations that could have gone better, like our semi-final game at the Provincial Championships, but there were many more good moments than bad.

On a personal level, I got a lot more involved in the coaching of the team. I also wanted to get more involved offensively and the numbers suggest I did that.

It has been a long year with tons of footy. I spent the first part of the year chasing balls in Thailand while making new friends. Then I was in southern Ontario for the summer playing with old friends. And now I’ve spent the final third of the year kicking it in Italy with the Rome City Institute and Link Campus University.

Of course I watched his second goal against England for days when I first discovered it as a teenager. I found music dedicated to his worship (in languages I didn't understand). I'm pretty sure I changed the desktop wallpaper or screensaver to a picture of him as well. However, I've just remembered another way he left a mark on my life.

About 9 years ago I was quite lost. I had walked away from my potential future as a mathematician, my business wasn’t particularly successful, and I had nothing to show for the couple of years I’d spent trying to become a writer. There was a lot of self-doubt and insecurity building up, and I wasn’t sure how much more uncertainty I could take. Then I received an email from an editor at an online publication that boasted enough weekly readers to fill the Camp Nou. The editor said that a piece I’d submitted was brilliant and that he’d never read anything like it before. Those words didn’t earn me a dime, but sometimes a vote of confidence is priceless.

May 2, 2019

Just over a year ago I returned to Canada to play in League1 Ontario. Ironically, this was the move that got me into the Canucks Abroad database.

Just this past weekend, Kadell Thomas subbed on and scored in the first fixture in the history of the Canadian Premier League. Less than a year ago I was defending against him in the L1 Cup. He subbed on and scored that day too, before I subbed on myself.

Since last season ended in September, I’ve trained with 8 teams from 3 leagues across something like 9 cities. I also attended 3 combines in 3 different cities. The result of all of that is that I’ve lined up my next adventure: in August I’ll head off to wander with a team nearly 3000 km away (I’ll make a more official announcement about that when I’ve got some swag or something to show off).

In the meantime, between my travels, I’ll be playing in the Kitchener-Waterloo area. While I was abroad, I thought a lot about the meaning of the word “home”. Home is a complicated concept for me. If you ask where I’m from, I cannot be both concise and honest. (Not only did I move around a lot growing up, but the generations before me did some moving too.) So, arriving back home was not simply a matter of stepping off a plane or through a doorway. It has been a process: catching up with friends and family, returning to familiar places, drinking Tim Hortons coffee. 

This spring, unexpectedly, another step in this process took place: I finally stepped back into the KW soccer community. It feels so good to be back. I didn’t realize how big a piece of the puzzle this was. Before embarking on my journey, I spent 12 years mucking about on the pitches of KW. That’s a lot of memories and a lot of paths crossed. So much has changed (both with the community and with me), and yet, I still feel a sense of belonging.

Next week I head off to Singapore and Thailand for 6 weeks. I’ll do my best to take you with me.

May 3, 2019

Last night we won a local preseason tournament named after a man who passed away when I was abroad. We would have been playing against each other in a Thursday night league from about 2009-2012. I think he was about 40 at the time. I didn’t know him well, but I have a few memories of him: a goal he scored, a time he joined my team for post game beers in the parking lot, etc.

Right on theme, after our game last night, an elder statesman of the local soccer scene (president of a club, president of a league, involved in officiating) said to me as I was leaving, “Tommy, you finally found your house. This is a good team.”

(Sun Feb 18, 2018) I fly home in just over a day, not to end my journey, but to continue it. Just as with Sweden a year ago, and Australia two years ago, the idea hit suddenly. This time I did lose sleep over the decision. I guess I’ve been away for so long (2 years, 1 month, and 3 weeks) that this feels like the biggest move yet.

I’ve been keeping a sharp eye on the football back home ever since I left, and I think that things are about to get exciting. According to my calculations, the best move for my career at this moment is to return home and try to hop on the train while it’s still moving at a manageable speed. My calculations might be wrong (the train might not be going where I think, or maybe it’s harder to get on a moving train than the movies make it look), but I have to go for it.

Even though I’ll be on familiar ground, there’s still plenty of uncertainty ahead of me. I know where I’ll start, but I'll have to go wherever the opportunities present themselves. Living, transportation, and training arrangements will have to be made on the fly. 

I’ve got a lot of work to do before preseason. For the first time in years, I’ve just taken a short little offseason to heal my body. However, this could end up leading to injuries if I don’t prepare myself properly before returning to a team environment.

(Sat Jan 6, 2018) It’s been two years and a week since I left Canada to try and become a footballer. In the first year I failed to impress any of the handful of professional clubs I’d played in front of in Thailand, but I’d managed to find myself a State League team for the season in Australia. Some players can receive cash payments in the Victorian State League, but I was primarily a reserve player, and for a club that went through some financial difficulties. After the season I’d lucked my way into training with a top professional club in Singapore before heading back to Thailand to try again. On the back of those adventures (which I’ve detailed in previous blog posts http://roarofthefaithful.com/tagged/searching-for-football) I’d experienced an incredible amount of growth as a footballer and felt that I would be unrecognizable to anyone who I’d played with before. If I could just keep on improving at that rate, surely I’d eventually become good enough to merit a contract, but the law of diminishing marginal returns could kick in and leave me on a plateau. Would Year 2 be anywhere near as good as Year 1?

By the start of 2017 I was convinced that trying to find a contract in Thailand on my own (through cold calling or showing up at open trials) was futile. I needed some sort of agent that could speak to clubs on my behalf. In January I joined a group of players who shared an agent, trained together and played friendly matches against clubs that were looking for foreign players. I think I’d played about 6 clubs with that group before leaving Thailand with no intention of trying there again. Thailand is an oversaturated market when it comes to foreign players and this allows clubs to be unreasonably demanding (I met a guy who’d played for Newcastle United who was turned away from a T4 club without a second look), and also puts them in a position of power where they don’t necessarily have to treat players fairly or even humanely (I’d heard horror stories of contracts being torn up or changed, and wages and passports being withheld). Even if they do find a player interesting, there are so many other players to look at that coaches are in no hurry to commit, and they’ll just hold onto players and keep them waiting while other opportunities pass by. Throw in the fact that Thai clubs have very particular expectations for foreign players (in terms of looks, body type and playing positions), and Thailand was just the wrong place for me.

My training partner and roommate hooked me up with an agent in Sweden who’d be able to get me a proper trial with a club that could provide me with a place to live and a little bit of money, so I packed my bags and headed off to see snow for the first time since leaving home. I arrived in Sweden with plenty of optimism, but in less than two weeks the agent had disappeared and become unreachable. I was left to cold calling clubs myself, just over a month from the start of the season.

With my very first phone call I got myself an invitation to training with a Division 4 club, and after the first session my trial was extended for a couple of weeks. I thought I did pretty well, but in the end I didn’t do well enough to replace the player they already had in my position (the coach said maybe if I’d come earlier in preseason it might have worked, and later he invited me to try again in the midseason break). I trained with two other Division 4 clubs. I failed to impress at one of them. At the other I got some interest, but they ultimately decided to go with a different player. Then, with about two weeks remaining I dropped to Division 5 thinking that with time running out I’d just drop to a lower level where I’d be an obvious signing. I did well in my first training session and was immediately invited to play in a friendly match, but the match did not go well for the team, and I failed to impress.

Then, with a week to go, I got lucky and my Airbnb host pointed me to a club in Division 6 that was actively recruiting. I trained with them for two weeks. The coaches liked me. The chairman of the club wasn’t able to offer me any compensation other than help getting the necessary papers to stay in the EU for the season. I signed. I waited a couple more weeks for my international clearance to come through. By the time I was eligible to play I’d missed about 4 games. I was thrown right into the starting line up against the top team in the division. We lost that game 6-0 and there was a lot of anger in the change room after. Apparently this episode was the straw the broke the camel’s back in a dispute between the players and the coaches. The chairman sided with the players and we had a new coach at the next training session. I was relegated to the bench and the chairman lost interest in helping me get those EU papers (luckily I was far along enough in the process that I was able to find ways to do the rest without him).

As I sat on the bench I continued pushing myself to try to win myself a spot in the starting line up, but nothing I did in training seemed to move me any closer. I considered trying to make a move in the midseason window to another club, possibly to that club I’d trialled at in Division 4. Then, someone I’d met on Instagram invited me to trial at his club in Italy. Just after the midseason break I left for Italy, not sure if I’d return to Sweden. I didn’t. Sweden may sound like it was a very difficult experience for me (and I haven’t even explained the Catch-22 of needing a place to live to apply for a Visitor Permit, but needing a Visitor Permit to find a place to live), but remember that challenge is where growth comes from. All of that time spent on the bench was frustrating, but it forced me to keep on looking for ways to improve. I kept on watching players and analyzing myself trying to find ways to force the coach to pick me, and all of this mental effort would result in some key changes to the way I play football. 

Sweden was a great experience in terms of culture and nature, and it also allowed me to reconnect with old friends who’d moved there from Canada, and to meet a lot of other wonderful people inside and outside of football. I think there’s a stereotype that Swedish people can be quite cold, but in my experience, human beings are human beings wherever you go, it’s just that sometimes you have to dig through snow first to reach them.

Then I lived on a farm in Tuscany for a month. The Canadian player I’d met in Melbourne (http://roarofthefaithful.com/post/141086525214/the-hunt-ends-arm-for-battle), and the player who’d hooked me up with the agent in Sweden both joined me. The trial did not go so well (in my opinion the three of us played well with the limited opportunities we had, but it was clear that despite the official invitation from the club, the coach was not keen on looking at as—for example, he would send us to run laps while the team was training when we were already obviously fitter than the players he had), but, stuck on a farm, a lot of time was spent just talking, and somehow, through all of the discussions that were had, I became convinced that I had to go back to Thailand. 

For all of the faults with Thai football, it suddenly dawned on me that the process there is highly meritocratic. Regardless of who you are, or who you know, you don’t sign a contract there unless you perform really well in the trial, and are really worth the money. The scrutiny is intense and there is a lot of competition for those few foreign player spots. This makes it really, really hard, but everyone gets a clean slate: the guy like me who has done nothing has a chance beside the guy who once played for Newcastle (at least at the lower levels that I’d be looking at). Signing in Thailand would be very difficult, but if I managed to do so I would know that I’d become the real deal.

So, I left Italy with a sense of purpose, a concrete direction for once when so much of my life had be based in uncertainty (there have been multiple times along my journey when I didn’t know where I’d spend the night, let alone where I’d be the next week or month). Again, the culture and scenery in Italy were incredible. The people were full of a vitality that I have not encountered elsewhere. They talk about the sweetness of doing nothing, but I feel like even when they idle, they do so with intensity. I must also note that the tomatoes that grew on the farm were worth writing home about …

It was too early in the year to go back to Thailand so I decided to stay in England for a couple of months. I’d spend some time with my aunt there and do some training. If I could get into the country …

The border guard almost didn’t let me in. I was pulled aside for extra questioning because I didn’t have a return ticket and had wrote on the entry form that I was going to stay for 3 months. Apparently no one goes to England for vacation in the fall, and apparently no one goes to visit their aunt for three months (the last time I did that I had a return ticket and Brexit wasn’t a thing, so no questions were asked). I’d kept quiet about the whole football thing because a friend of mine had been rejected once because the border guards didn’t believe that he was a footballer. When they searched my bags I explained my journey (it’s kind of hard to hide a deflated ball and 4 pairs of football shoes) and they let me into the country.

While in England I hit the weight room and did my solo training. I played with a group of Koreans I’d made friends with on my previous visits. I joined an amateur team (I played one game with their first team, thought I’d played well, but got sent down to the reserves). I also had three really, really, really good training sessions with one of the friends who’d been in Italy with me. Then, less than two months after arriving, I was off to Thailand.

At the end of October, I went to Thailand a month earlier than necessary because I’ve always had trouble adjusting to the heat. Also, in case you missed it, my girlfriend lives in Thailand, and it occurred to me that I should probably actually meet up with her from time to time ...

When I started training again with the group that I’d joined at the beginning of the year, I could feel the difference from when I’d left them in February. Then I saw the videos of our training and knew that this difference was real. The way I touched the ball, the way I moved without the ball, even the way I stood while waiting for instructions ... everything had changed. I looked more like a footballer now, and not only because I’d bleached my hair (in a stroke of genius I’d realized that there was something I could do about my problem of looking like a Thai player).

After almost two months after arriving in Thailand, I finally played my first friendly trial match against a T4 team a few days before Christmas. Despite a few minor injuries sitting at the back of my mind I couldn’t wait to see how my performance would contrast from the last time I’d played one of these matches in February. Then, as we started playing, things didn’t go nearly as well as I’d imagined. At times I struggled. I remember thinking to myself, “Even with all the improvements I’ve made over the year, it’s still going to be really, really hard to sign here.” But, like those sports psychology books (http://roarofthefaithful.com/post/144478996539/the-subtleness-of-change) had taught me, I stayed focused and pushed on…

On Christmas Day, after training, I learned that I was one of three players in our team that the opposition coach had inquired about!

The team have since signed one of the other guys from my crew, and I am no longer being considered, but rather than disappointment it is encouragement I must feel. Between my previous two attempts at Thailand I’d had close to 20 chances without garnering even a hint of interest. This time, it had taken only one chance to break that streak. I’m probably one of the few players, if not the only one, in our group who has not played on a paying contract before, so for me to be capable of standing out like that (when I didn’t even feel like I was having a great game) is a very big change. I know there are a lot of things I still need to do better, but the window should still be open for another month (it’s hard to be certain around these parts) and there will be more chances to prove myself.

Would Year 2 be anywhere near as good as Year 1? It was much harder, on and off the pitch, but I feel like I’m in a video game where I want things to get harder because I’m levelling up. I’m very happy with the progress I’ve made in Year 2. I look forward to seeing what Year 3 brings. As always, thanks for the support and the interest. I don’t write these blog posts as often as I used to, but I do update my Instagram account (https://www.instagram.com/wandering_baller/) quite regularly, and often the captions will give you a sense of what’s going on with my journey.

(July 6, 2017) It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything here (hopefully you’ve been following me on Instagram: @wandering_baller), but it’s not that I haven’t been writing. It seems that my journal has been averaging a thousand words a day since the start of this year. It has been a hectic and exciting period for me. Unfortunately, most of that cannot be shared at this time. When this is all over I will likely write at least one book about my experiences. (When my parents ask me when I’ll come home, I tell them that if I’m away for 1000 days the title writes itself.)

Rest assured, however, things have been happening and the journey is alive and well. Progress is being made and the next destination is almost confirmed. Currently I’m still in Sweden. When the weather is nice it is beautiful here, but the weather isn’t always nice. Things have shut down here for the summer. Even if I’m still working (on progressing the journey and on earning the funds to continue), there is a peacefulness around me that I must soak in, for it cannot last.

I’ve been away from home for over a year and a half now. I've managed to quietly turn 32. I live out of a single suitcase now.

I will not say more about my current situation, however, I will leave you with a Facebook comment that I wrote last night that turned into an essay, which touches on some of the things I’ve learned on my journey. On a friend’s wall there has been a passionate discussion about issues around our local men’s leagues back in Waterloo Region. I still watch videos of these leagues, smiling as I see old friends make the magic happen. I still care very much about what’s going on back there, so I just couldn’t stay out of the discussion …

***

Nick is right, Canadian soccer is a joke. I usually say that Canada is a 3rd world country when it comes to football. If you look at any 3rd world country, you’ll find a few people who are very rich, and the rest are dirt poor. In Canada there are a few professional players and the rest play "just for fun”. But, in many other parts of the world where the football economy is more developed, there’s a huge spectrum in between, a spectrum of “middle-class” football that “matters” even though the players hold other jobs. The model that allows that spectrum to exist looks different in different places. 

In Italy, the youth teams at a club in the 7th tier exist to feed the senior team, which exists to give the village people something to scream and swear about on Saturdays. In Sweden, a senior team at a club in the 8th tier exists so that the kids playing in the youth teams know that they have somewhere to play when they grow up, even if they don’t make it pro. The kids eventually graduate to the senior team, and then they become parents to kids who grow up playing for the youth team. So, two very different models, but, back to Nick’s point, these are actual clubs (not just teams): they have facilities, they have communities, there are kids in the youth teams who have parents who watch games, there are social events, there are people paying a few dollars to be in the stands and to buy drinks at the cafe, there are enough eyeballs for people to see value in sponsoring the club. 

Where does this leave the senior players? Well, nothing works without them, so they’re looked after, enticed to make the commitment, one way or another. Sometimes they get a bit of money, sometimes they get food and gear, sometimes they get to be a little piece of history. When I was in Melbourne, I went to watch a local legend play. People showed up in the thousands and whispered his name when the ball came close. Yes, he makes a few thousand a month kicking a ball, but he’s a school teacher by day.