GAME DAY, PART 3: A PRESIDENTIAL PUMP UP

Contributed by: Dave

Finally safely aboard the coach’s van, Chad and I figured we’d be at the game shortly. Clay and Josh followed closely behind. But rather than turn right along Lumley Beach Road to start the direct, 10-minute drive to the stadium, we turned left. Curious. As the road to the stadium bent left, heading towards the center of Freetown, our thoughts ran faster than our cameras. Perhaps this was some sort of way to throw off the masses of fans seeking a glimpse of their heroes. Or maybe it was the opposite, the route was meant to pump up the team, showing them how much their supporters cared. Either way, as the van climbed through the hills, we had a front row seat to the Leone Stars’ parade.

As the procession rounded the corner of yet another switchback, the trees parted briefly. Freetown stretched all the way to the ocean, a jumbled clutter of congestion. In the center of that mass of hazy humanity, there it was: the National Stadium. Even from here, we could see it was full. I can’t really explain how the energy traversed that distance, but it did. It socked us right in the chest. Suddenly, and maybe for the first time, we knew what this match—strike that, this sport— meant to the country.

Chad and I took our eyes from the stadium and turned them to the team bus, which had slowed to a stop. For the second time in less than five minutes, I was taken aback. I turned to Chad and, as calmly and professionally as I could, whispered: “I think we’re about to meet the President.”

The van pulled to a stop, the team poured out, the passenger side door flew open and we quickly joined the stream of hangers-on. We were rapidly escorted into the equivalent of the White House. The team took its seats and nervously awaited the arrival of the President. Their anxiety was two-fold: not only were they about to be addressed by the Head of State, they were also, as Kei pointed out, less than two hours from kickoff and had yet to even stretch.

The president entered the room without much fanfare. The Leone Stars stood at attention before he told them to sit down and rest. Formalities were exchanged, introductions were done, and then the president rose to speak.

Here at Copper Pot, we’re sports junkies. We love sports movies, even if they can be formulaic and schlock-y. And what’s a sports movie without a riveting pump up speech from the coach?

Well, in our movie, that speech is delivered by President Ernest B. Koroma.

We listened as the president told his team that they have the ability to help the country’s healing, how they can guide Salone from its tormented past, how if they could beat Egypt today, the world would know about Sierra Leone for something other than it’s bloodied history.

It was stirring… and when there’s a Josh Johnson score behind it, it’ll challenge anything Coach Eric Taylor uttered in Friday Night Lights.

He finished to applause and as rapidly as the team entered, it started to leave. He shook each player’s hand. Kei, always the showman, looked directly at the camera before his turn came up: “I can’t believe I’m going to meet the president.” As we caught Kei shaking the president’s hand, I turned to Chad to make sure that he knew we had to get going. Chad, knowing that it was on my bucket list to meet a president, mouthed and gestured, “Shake his hand. You.” Realizing that the president was by the room’s only exit, I figured what the hell. Keeping the camera running, I mustered up a feeble, “Thank you, sir.” Chad fell into the line, firmly grasped the president’s hand and headed out to rejoin me in the coach’s van. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I wouldn’t actually be able to check the item off my bucket list, for it, too, had been in my pickpocketed dummy wallet.

While Chad and I met the president, Clay and Josh were on an adventure of their own… and you can read about it on an upcoming blog from Clay himself.