I Haven't Arrived

I haven’t arrived. 

In my mind, I will always be on the chase. Always hunting. Always searching. Regardless of where I end up at any given moment, in life or in football, believing that I have “arrived” would be one of the most detrimental things that I could ever do to myself psychologically. There is always something new to learn. There is always another skill to improve on. There is always another level to reach. One of my mentors in football once told me, “The moment you think you’ve arrived is the day that you are done as a player”. I believe him because I’ve seen plenty of players get comfortable, thinking that they made it, only to fall way short of their potential.  

Spain  

From the moment I touched down in Spain, I’ve been exposed to some of the highest levels of Spanish football. Last spring, I attended a fiery Basque derby between La Liga sides Athletic Bilbao and Real Sociedad at the Anoeta Stadium in San Sebastián. I’ve seen Antiguoko KE youth teams battle for league championships at the Berio training ground where players like Xabi Alonso and Mikel Arteta were produced. I’ve watched La Masia’s famed FC Barcelona squads compete in the Mediterranean International Cup and play football reminiscent of their world class first team. 

Being outside of the United States for an extended period of time has given me many new perspectives on how talent is developed in different areas of the world. What is a kid from Seattle doing here? I have to give credit to coaches and life mentors such as Pedro Millan, Todd Stauber and my older brother Mutanda Kwesele, who have helped me navigate football with their knowledge and experiences in various levels of the game. Growing up, I was always a good player. A standout player? I’m not so sure. One thing I know for certain is that I am in Spain right now because of resilience. 

From an early age, I have been conditioned to not give in. When I was eight years old, my uncle was murdered in downtown Seattle; my world turned upside down and for several years, I battled anxiety, insomnia and night terrors. My family and I found the strength to continue on, united and strong. During my freshman year of high school, my right femur was broken in a car accident and I needed two major surgeries. After two years of rehab and recovery, I was back on the field playing competitively. Shortly after my comeback, I signed a letter of intent to play for Barry University in Miami, Florida. A few years later, I was diagnosed with chronic tendonitis in both knees and have since needed over 10 injections in the last two years. Quitting isn’t in my DNA. My pain has been efficiently converted into fuel for many of my life’s endeavors. 

My father likes to say, “When one door closes, another one opens,” and as a result, I carry on even when I suffer or come up short. As the son of two African immigrants, I am very aware of how hard life can be, especially after two profound visits back to my mother’s native Zambia. My life experiences and education have made me aware of what it means to fight for space in a world that can be unforgiving and cold. My mother was my age when she moved to the United States with two small children. In a way, I have followed in her footsteps by moving to a country where the culture and language are new to me. I have struggled at times here in Spain just like my parents did when they first moved to Seattle. Some of my experiences are similar to what they went through while others are very different. Despite having limited resources at the start, my parents found a way to create a wonderful new life for their family. I wouldn’t be anywhere without their sacrifices, love, and support and I carry them with me everywhere as I navigate this beautiful country.

Real Unión

In April, I began my trial with Real Unión’s second team. During my first session, I recognized that I was in the middle of a very unique football experience. Real Unión has a long and proud history in a country that has produced some of the best club teams and players in the world. Stepping into a club like Real Unión means that there are big expectations. These expectations call on players and people who are talented, hard-working, invested and resilient. Clubs that are not in La Liga aspire to be in La Liga, it’s that simple. Gaining promotion to the top division in the land is the hard part. As one of the founding La Liga clubs, Real Unión yearns for the opportunity to return to the highest league because they know more than just about anyone else the kind of pride and honor that comes with being at that level. To get back to the top, Real Unión knows they will have to win. Winning consistently is imperative in a country where promotion and relegation are defining features of the way that the football pyramid is set up. Every single game matters. 

When I began training with the second team, I knew I had to play well in each session to have a chance of earning a spot. When I got on the ball, I was constantly trying to play as simple as possible. This usually meant releasing the ball in one or two touches. The game here is way too quick for players to be nonchalant and indecisive, especially in the center of the field where time and space are limited. If I didn’t have the ball, I was buzzing around to get on it so that I could dictate the game. Without the ball, I had to run myself into the ground to get it back, just like the rest of my teammates. I was exhausted after these sessions and my train rides home often included lengthy naps. I quickly realized that the intensity of the Spanish game is incredibly underrated. I don’t understand why people overlook this aspect of their game, but I’m guessing it has to do with their mesmeric retention of the ball. Playing in these sessions confirmed to me that these players are relentless in their pursuit of the ball defensively. They are just as hungry to win the ball back as they are to keep it when they have it. The Spanish players truly understand what it means to have both beauty and the beast when they step on the field.  

Base Camp 

At the end of May I was called into a meeting with the director of Real Unión. The coach of the second team was leaving as soon as the season finished and it would be the director’s decision whether or not I would be staying with the club. He informed me that the club thought I did well during my trial and that they would like to have me back. When I received the invitation to join the squad in preseason, I felt like I took a huge step forward as a player and a person. Moments like these remind me to continue dreaming and working hard. A week after my meeting with Real Unión , I flew home to Seattle for a much needed break. I spent a lot of time with family and friends, which gave me a chance to decompress, recharge and reflect. 

Over the past few months, I have had many friends and acquaintances congratulate me on living in Spain and pursuing a career in professional football. To be honest, I always feel a bit uneasy when receiving these messages. I really appreciate all of the people who have taken the time to call, text or write to me on social media. I’m just wary of how dangerous complacency can be, and I don’t want to fall into that trap (it’s a lot easier than people think). If I was climbing Mt. Everest, I would be at base camp. Nothing more and nothing less. My journey is only beginning. 

I haven’t arrived. Not because I am slow or unfit. Not because of my work ethic or due to a lack of support from family and friends. I haven’t arrived because as a player I have witnessed a level of play here in Spain that I have never experienced before. To reach that level, to climb that mountain, it will take everything I’ve got as a footballer. While I make my way through the trials and tribulations, I cherish the journey and the opportunities to keep reaching higher.

In Memoriam...

This blog is dedicated to Mohamed Jeylani, an amazing young man whose life ended far too soon. Mo was a great friend, a talented footballer and an exceptional human being. Those who knew him were lucky to have spent time with such a beautiful soul. 

Rest in Peace brother. You will be missed and you will always be loved. 

1998-2018.