"Goooooooal!" the crowd screamed with delight, crammed three deep to the chicken wire retaining fence surrounding the dirt field. I had to stand up and scurry quickly from my crouching position in front of the fence, as it appeared the leaning support pole might snap at its base. I didn't want to become another statistic in the hundreds of fans who are killed by a collapsing stadium fence each year around the world. Zambian second division football simply wasn't worth risking my life.
Driving by the large crowd only moments earlier, Chris and I simply had to stop and watch some of the spectacle. As outsiders, with pale skin, a camera and a vuvuzela, we were immediately escorted to one corner of the field. A six foot tire was laboiously rolled to the side, the chicken wire detached, and suddenly we could walk through to the field.
A V.I.P. Entrance! We were close enough to touch the players, and immediately next to the Big Roma Fan Band, i.e. a guy with a drum. It seems being a foreigner is enough to get you field-side access in Zambia.
After the goal, the scoresheet would read: Big Roma 1 : Casco 0, goal scored by Victor, number 9 on Big Roma, in the 5th minute of play. However, nobody in the crowd of around 2,000 was shouting Victor. As he ran to the corner of the field for a full squad choreagraphed celebratory dance, the crowd shouted "Go USA!".
I scratched my head and asked: "Huh? Why USA?". One of the Big Roma fan club/entourage/former players section turned to me and said: "We call him USA because he plays like Landon Donovan: he is fast, runs hard, and scores many goals."
This is a change up there with global warming and the Mayan prophecy of 2012. Being called "USA" used to mean being the worst player on the field, the one who couldn't trap the ball or shoot. In 2010, after World Cup in South Africa, people in rural Zambia now think of the USA as label of soccer brilliance. US soccer has surely never received higher praise. "Go USA!"
Matthew-
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