Happy Birthday

Wednesday night, I went to a meeting of the Directiva de Defensores de Lima. Though I didn’t know this ahead of time, the Directiva essentially consists of the 5 oldest, least talented Peruvians on the team. It’s members started the team a few years ago and pay to play. The rest of the players are chosen for talent talent, regardless of country of origin, and are often paid.

The meeting took place at Javier, a directive member’s house. It was his mother’s birthday and the meeting was supposed to double as a party for her. In reality, she had to cook and serve a group of 6 of her son’s friends while they argued about whether or not to pay off their next opponent. The night before, at a league meeting, the other teams had decided to take 2 points away from Defensores as punishment for a fight they had gotten into with the Bolivians the week before. This meant that Defensores would have to win by 3, and two other teams would have to lose, in order for them to go on to the elimination round. Several Directiva members wanted to offer the other team’s captain money to intentionally give Defensores a penalty kick, should they be short a goal. This was not about the best team winning, not about proving that we were good enough to triumph against the odds. This was about obtaining a foot-tall brass cup; an object too precious to leave in the hands of something as unpredictable (and often uncooperative) as merit.

In the end, however, Arturo and a friend visiting from Spain convinced the rest of the group not to waste any more money on the season. They would, instead, try their luck on Sunday and hope to pull through. Next the members decided that I would not, after all, be able to play with them. They told me it was because I wouldn’t be here until the end of the next tournament, but I sense that may be a polite way of saying that they can’t spare a roster spot for a un-talented, un-paying, gringo.

After almost two hours of meeting, the birthday celebration lasted all of 20 minutes. We brought the cake and the presents, took pictures, sang, and sent mom back inside to do the dishes. The Spaniard and I tried to help clean-up but were told firmly to return to the “party,” which continued without its honored guest.