Playing football with Everton Uganda

A few weeks ago I was browsing the internet in Jinja when I saw an interesting story saying that Everton FC, my team, had donated match worn shirts to a team of underprivileged children in Kampala. We had literally just been there. I had to find out more and was desperate to go along and watch them train or, if possible, have a kick about. Everton Uganda was set up by Senkunda Ali to provide football and education to children from slum areas of Kampala, the nation’s capital. And this group of over 150 boys have been crowned the National Champions at Under 11s, under 13s and Under 15s level. As well as playing football, the organisation also teaches the children about HIV, STIs and other important life lessons. They also have a girls team that consists of 65 girls from the local area too, so they really do have a lot on their hands.

I found the team online, got in touch and was pleased to know that they were overjoyed at me even asking. I was so glad that I was welcome at Everton Uganda, and couldn’t wait to have a kick about with the kids and meet the coaches who had set up the program. I awoke excited, as if it was the morning of a huge game. Also, I was glad to see that the day was slightly overcast. I had not played for four months so the prospect of running around in the blistering sub-Saharan sunshine was one I was slightly fearful of. My joy was premature, however, as by the time we arrived at the pitch, the sun was beaming down and I was already sweating. Ali and Yawumah, another of the important men behind Everton Uganda, greeted me warmly and walked me over to the kids who were split into their age groups and in the middle of a keep ball drill. Their touch was incredible. Especially when you consider the surface they were playing on. The pitch was compacted sand and dirt. Very dry and dusty, it sloped up a bank on one side and dropped down a fair few metres on the other, and certain parts of the pitch were as bobbly as you could imagine. There were sporadic bits of grass in one corner but that was about it. There was also a cow tied up behind one of the goals. And, despite this, these kids had an immaculate first touch.

An exhausted me letting the game get away from me…

After a general introduction, we were set up into two teams, bibs were a handed out, and a full size match was underway. I had to think about every touch in order to not lose possession, keeping an eye on the bobbles on the ground. But the kids were so confident, clearly used to the conditions, and played with a swagger that was mesmerising. I have played a lot of football in my time, and these kids were as good as any I have seen. Small lads from the under 11s were playing intricate passing football with their older teammates, and everyone seemed to have confidence in each other’s abilities. We played mostly two-touch football throughout.

Not only were these kids clearly very talented footballers, but they were also fit. Very fit in fact. I on the other hand enjoyed a very productive first 20 minutes, before being reduced to a sweating, panting, wreck. As the first half drew to a close I was elated. Especially as we were 1-0 up. I hit a cross-field pass to a tiny kid called Joseph, who was only 11 years old but rapid quick. He took one touch to control the ball, another to push it past a kid twice his size, and a third to slot the ball home between the makeshift wooden goalposts.

Half time was quick, but I still had time to put on another layer of sun cream and drink another litre of water…

I was pretty much a passenger in the second half watching the kids play around me with ease. Little Joseph managed to bag a second goal for our team (the blue bibs) and Moses, our Swedish friend who had come along to play, did manage to get on the scoresheet himself. A few goals later we were 3-2 up. But it wouldn’t be Everton without some a controversial refereeing decision to talk about. With seconds remaining on the clock, our goalkeeper picked up a back pass and the referee awarded an in-direct free kick inside the area (not that there was an area marked out) about 7 yards from the goal. Our team made a wall on the line to try and block the attempt at goal. The yellow bibs opted to blast the ball at the goal directly, hoping it would take a deflection on the way in, an option I am surprised the professionals don’t go for more often. They blazed the ball at the goal, it went in and it may or may not have taken a deflection off one of our lads on the way. But the referee said it hadn’t, the final whistle was blown and the game was over.

Ali and me.

We had a gentle warm down, as if we hadn’t done enough running in the sweltering heat, and then took some photos. All the kids wanted their picture taken, and we also took some great team photos. These children and Everton Uganda itself, have very little. However, the kids, and everyone else involved, exuded a wonderful warmth and seemed so outwardly happy and optimistic that I couldn’t help being moved by the whole experience. I was sad that I couldn’t stay for longer and wasn’t able to help more. It pained me to leave that day, knowing I may never go back, but I told them that I would do my best to let the passionate Everton fans back home know about them, so have written a piece about my time that I will be sending off to some Everton fan sites. I wanted the blues back home to know that in a country dominated by Manchester United and Arsenal fans, it was Everton Uganda that was lifting trophies this season.