Saturday, I joined a colleague from work and soaked in a bit of soccer at RFK Stadium...U.S. v. Cuba in a World Cup qualifying match. A contingent of Cubans sat a few rows ahead of us, waving their flag and screaming "Cuba, Cuba, Cuba...." With an awestruck gaze, they often paused and took pictures of the crowd. I overheard a few of them speaking in dialect, their accents thick like freshly harvested plantains. They optimistically cheered for their team during the entire match, despite losing...6-1, an optimism to emulate, a loyalty to envy.
The next day, I read in the Sunday paper that two of the Cuban national team players had defected before the game. I wondered if the Cuban fans knew. I wondered if the Cuban defectors knew how much their fans had cheered. I wondered about life in Cuba.
4 comments:
Wow. Great post, primo.
Thanks, prima. The faces in the photographs--those afro-Cuban smiles and stares--seemed relics of a simpler time, echoes of a revolutionary optimism...unsure of itself. I was as much a tourist wandering through their expressions, as I was a spectator of the match.
Mira...speaking of wandering. I heard from Amalia that you'll be trick-or-treating in Phoenix. Nice. And, Happy (upcoming) Birthday too...
Good pictures of the flag. Good thought to leave us on. I like your style, as always!
Interesting ... I too sometimes wonder about life in Cuba ... I wonder about life in Puerto Rico if Cuba ever becomes free ...
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