Football afloat
If there was a place on this planet where football could be played afloat, it would be none other than Brazil. As you can easily understand, it happens. The passionate relationship of Brazilians with the “Beautiful Game” cannot be encapsulated in words. It cannot be comprehended through the most finely crafted poem. It cannot even be conveyed through a dreamy Seleção match at the Maracanã. The most beautiful melody pales in comparison to a Garrincha solo, a Pelé chest control, or a Ronaldo chip shot. Art and love become one. For Brazilians, the ball—or better yet, football—is not just a sport. It’s a religion, it’s magic, it’s love. It’s all of the above and even more.
The black river in Brazil also waters the region of Catalejo. A region that has been significantly affected by natural disasters and has essentially become a city where everything floats on water. Houses are floating, students traverse several kilometers through the swollen river to get to school. Taxis arrive in boats to pick up citizens, and even the church is afloat. A city that conjures up images reminiscent of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans during those dark days of 2005 for humanity. Naturally, amid all this, people couldn’t help but play their favorite sport. It’s not water polo that thrives in Catalejo, as in all regions of the Coffee Country, there, in everyone’s mind, especially the children’s, only one thing exists – Football.
The one-of-a-kind soccer pitch that once existed, from the day the dark waters of the river swelled for good, was buried like another Atlantis. Of course, the love and madness for the beautiful game couldn’t be buried for any reason. Seeing the little ones staying home and getting bored without soccer, the residents put their plan into action. What was their plan? Well, it was the construction of wooden floating mini soccer fields for both the young and the old. And they succeeded. The scenes on weekends, when the mini championships take place, are entirely surreal. People with life vests diving for lost balls (which, to be precise, are many), people playing football amidst wood and iron barefoot, others playing with armbands since the fear of the wild river’s dark waters cannot be erased from the minds of the locals. But above all, it’s the love for football and the religious devotion they attach to it. As Laércio da Silva, a local carpenter, once said, “As the waters rise, we get closer to God”. “No matter how much the waters swell, we will continue to play football” I add, since football is (also) a religion for Brazilians. Just like for most nations. What’s more beautiful than the sight of little children kicking a ball? Very few things. You got it right.
