By Claire Page
The launch of the Academy was a long awaited event by us all.
Patrick, the manager had negotiated with the local school to let the kids out early. Paul Burniston, FA coach and dear friend, had flown all the way from the UK with suitcases of second-hand boots, balls, cones, bibs and strips (well, it was kind of a holiday for him too!) And we raced from our kids' schools, wedged in tightly amongst all the inflated balls to get there on time.
Paul admitted after the event that he was incredibly nervous. As we pulled up to the pitches, we were greeted with the site of over 1,000 kids of all ages running around. Paul rapidly started doing the mental calculations as to how many kids he could run drills with at one time. Luckily we soon realised that kids were starting to drift out of school and this was their route home. So, Paul soon got stuck in to drills with a more manageable 15 or so of the older kids. Meanwhile, I embarked on the unenviable jobs of dishing out boots to 30 or so kids who were literally bursting with the excitement of seeing all these bulging bags of cool boots.
We thought we were prepared. Paul's son, Jack, had meticulously organised all the boots by size in to different bags. Patrick had made sure all the kids were seated quietly on the pitch while he was armed with a list of all the kids and their corresponding boot size. And I had Anna, an able assistant for boot fittings, bearing in mind she has worked in a Clarks shoe shop back in the UK. I was sorted.
Ethan was sitting with the rest of the boys. He said he has never seen the boys so excited and ecstatic as I opened the first bulging bag to reveal an ubber-cool boot with a fluorescent tick down the side. The boys were restrained, but the sysyem of calling a boy up one by one, getting the correctly sized boot for them and then sending them away and ticking them off the list soon disintergrated. I felt like the Prince in Cinderella, as boys desperately shoved their feet into boots and willing them to fit. Boys would have toes bulging at the end of the boot insisting that they were fine then reluctantly, after some persuasion, relinquishing the ill-fitting boots as we deperately tried to find another one that were the right size.
We didn't quite have enough boots to go round. The boys took it well though. For the photo some of them wore boots that were far too big for them so they could look the part. We didn't quite have enough strips eithe but used bibs for the rest of the kids. I have promised them that I will get my hands on some more boots so everyone is fully kitted out.
The really emotional part of the evening was towards the end. As is the Kenyan way, all matches, training sessions and significant events end with a prayer and words of wisdom and thanks from various members of the club. As the light faded fast, both team captains, David, 17, and Ali, 14, stood up in turn to give their thanks to Paul and their sponsors and urged their team members to work hard in their new kits and stay focused on playing good football. Paul urged all players to listen to their coaches and captains and Patrick urged all players to carry their focus and discipline in football across to their school work. All the boys listened intently throughout.
Our house has become a bit of a sports cupboard these days. Patrick and Phillip have advised that the boys should have the boots for matches only and return them afterwards to the club. They feel they should show commitment to the club before keeping the boots. Also, these boys live in the slums behind Rongai and there is no guarantee that items of such value wouldn't go missing very quickly.
Still, it's the least we can do for these boys who have sovery little, but I am thinking seriously of investing in a shed.
