Days of Glory: The Road to Al Hilal

CW: May contain racially sensitive language.

As the title suggests, this journey recounts when I began to believe that I could make a difference in Soccer. It took some years of course, some ugly attitude and tackling by the Riyadh Bedouins, and harassment by the locals and some others.

(I cannot explain who I don’t want to remember)

As I used to play with the Saudi boys across the street, I enjoyed playing with them, as I was only 9, they were all tall lads, and they used to easily trick me. Their English was poor, and it was very difficult to communicate with them. Thanks to A’la and Zain (two Syrian brothers), who joined us, I discovered that their English is outstanding, as they had attended an American School.

They helped me (in communication) as they taught me Arabic as well. Syria was a French Colony, so they knew French and taught me some French as well. But I wanted to learn Arabic because I wanted to learn about Soccer skills, oh God, there was so much to learn. Finally, within 7-8 months, I started to speak fluent Arabic and started to play soccer more aggressively. They love to watch Indian movies- Bollywood. So they used to get Indian movies from me.

One day, I got instructions from my Team lead that I need to work on my diet because at the age of 9, neither was I skinny nor bulky. So, I decided to increase my diet and start doing some stretching.

Well, the tournament happened in July, Riyadh’s weather is very hot in those days, it's around 45 °C and it doesn’t change even in night. What can we do? Saudis have a very bad habit of calling Pakistanis, Indians, or Bengalis “RAFIQUE”, which simply means friend. But they say it because they enjoy it. The best approach is to call the Saudis “Rafique” as well, and believe me it works. In a short period, I have mastered dribbling and through. But I had gained some height and weight also, not good enough for my colleagues.

Days were passing by pretty briskly, my father and both the sisters were against my Soccer outings, and they used to pursue my father. I can play table tennis, volleyball & cricket. But I was crazy about Football.

The team was announced, and I was in. Both of my Syrian friends were out. I felt very sad because they were midfielders, and used to assist me, and I used to convert them into goals. They were Qataris, but I found out later how satanic they were. They were brothers as well, but the way they looked at me and smiled made some racial remarks about me.

ماذا......، لماذا رفيق في فريقنا؟ إنهم لا يعرفون كيف يلعبون. إنهم يلعبون بأرجلهم مفتوحة على مصراعيها ويمكنك بسهولة تسجيل الأهداف بينهم و"، "أغلق فمك.....". تدخل قائد فريقي ثم سألني "محسن هل تعرفهم هل هناك مشكلة".

What the ......, why is Rafique in our team? They don't know how to play. They play with their legs wide open, and you can easily score in between them, and " shut the ..... up". My team captain intervened, and then he asked me, " Mohsin, do you know them? Is there a problem? I put my hand on his shoulder and said, Faysal, don’t worry, there is nothing. I have seen them for the first time. “

Our Team name was Al-Shabab. Al Shabab means Group of Young. Our first match was with the 31st street team. I never played the first half because the Captain had seen me with the Qatari guys. Anyways, as the match progressed, the 31st street team was able to break from our right side, both of the brothers were on the side ( one was a MIDFIELDER and the other was a DEFENDER). They scored twice, and at half-time, we were losing by 2 goals.

Mohammed (the captain) was a worried man. The main senior players approached him and calmly suggested to sub the two brothers with Majid as right back and Mohsin as Striker.

Me striker, oh no, no way. As the match progressed, I started to run and started to gain rsome momentum, and to break that momentum, there was a tall and giant Bedouin waiting for us (the other striker with me, Khalid). I waved at Khalid that I was open, pass me the ball, so he did. The Ball came to me, and for a second, I thought the whole world had stopped. I lift my eyes, try to find the goal, I was 2 steps away outside the penalty area. There was an instinct that use my right foot as the defender thought I was going to use it, so I dodged him. As soon as I dodged him, I looked at the nervous goalkeeper who was running at me, so I decided to chip the ball easily and gently over his head, and the ball went into the net.

We were still losing, but every player appreciated my goal. It was the month of November, and it wasn’t that hot. I understood the game of my opponent's team; they were tired already, so I signalled my captain, I will stay at the half line. They attacked and conceded a corner. The whole team (them and us) went up except the Giant Defender. They took the corner. I watched the clock, and it was only 10 minutes to go. The ball luckily went into the hands of the Keeper.

I immediately yelled at him with a loud voice in Arabic, “Yallah ya Saleh Imshi, Haiyya. Go for it, Saleh, go for it. He threw the ball towards me. The throw was accurate, as it landed right in front of me, so I had the ball. I gave full gas, I never knew that I went past the defender, so it was again me and the keeper, again he started running towards me. So I imitated that I am going to chip the ball again, but he stopped and smiled with a gap between his legs, as the goal was right in front of me, I punched the ball and the ball went in between his legs and into the goal. I screamed yes. All my team congratulated me. came into the ground and.

With 5 minutes remaining, a corner kick is awarded to our team. The Corner was immaculate. Khaled jumped. It was a great header, but the giant defender blocked it with his hands. So it was a penalty. Khaled refused to take it. I have to take the penalty.

With 5 minutes remaining, we win a corner.

So it was me and the keeper again. So I started to run. As I approached the ball, I chipped it straight. The keeper dived to his right and saw the ball going into the goal.

It was 3-2; we won our first match. This match gave me a lot of courage, hope, and confidence that I can contribute to soccer. But I forgot about 2 Qatari boys. As the match concluded, our match was the day after tomorrow, but he still invited all team to come tomorrow for practice for an hour or more, then that may be, we all agreed and headed towards home. As I was about to enter my building, I was stopped at the entrance by the Qatari boys. They looked upset as they started the conversation in Qatari dialect, which is quite different from the Saudi’s. As I know and understand Arabic, they were very upset because they got subbed by me and Majid, and it was because I am a good friend of Mohammed.

I told them, it is not like that. Mohammod might be a good friend of mine, but inside the field, he treats every player equally. I was carrying some fresh Nans and soft drinks as my father told me to pick up on my way back. As it was getting late, my father, from nowhere, appeared from inside the building, folding his sleeves, and he knew this Qatari family. My father asked me, Hey, son, everything ok? These guys are bothering you. I remained calm, grabbed my father’s hand, and dragged him towards our suite. I told him that everything is ok, they were asking me stuff about Football.

The next day, in the afternoon, as I got ready as per the captain's instructions, before leaving, I asked Mom (May Allah forgive her and grant higher ranks in Paradise) if she needed anything right now, or if I should bring her later in the evening. She said No, you go!

Mohammed told us to be there by 5 pm. As I got out of the building, I smelled trouble. As I was about to cross the road, I saw a car loaded with guys, including two Qataris; there were 4 more Bedouin women. They were gritting their teeth. Qatari guys approached me and they pushed me hard, I slipped and fell as some of my friends (store employees) who were watching all this, came out from the stores and yelled at the QB (Qatari Boys) Hey Rafique, leave him or I'm calling the Police. 8 guys (from different nationalities, Pakistani, Indian, and Afghan) came out, and they started running towards the car. When the QB saw this, they yelled Come on, let us run. They disappeared. My friends came to me and picked me up.

It was a newly constructed road, so my knees and elbows had bruises. Tears came out of my eyes as I was thinking about what I had done to deserve this. 8 of them said, Kido, go back home. We have to go back to the store. I returned home. My mother asked lots of questions I said nothing had happened. As I was thinking about the practice, the bell rang, and Mohammed was standing in front of me. He said Ya Mohsin, where are you? Come and join the practice, we need you. I grabbed my shoes and told my mother that I was leaving. We reached the ground in a jiffy. I saw the two Qataris very happy, but when they saw me, rapturous. When I told Mohammed the entire truth, he called the TQ and fired them on the spot. He said that he had already talked to Syrian brothers, and he expressed his gratitude to the team and wished all of us the absolute best.

He said two lines about me, YAA Mohsin, we are lucky that you are in our team, and we are amazed to see your game. Keep playing like that. We will protect you, as what happened will not happen again. Everybody clapped, and I was stunned to hear the lines and clapping of my teammates. Suddenly, Mohammed blew the whistle to start the practice.

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