Over the
course of my first few months here in Wrocław, Poland, I slowly assumed the
role as head coach of a rookie American football team in Oleśnica, Poland,
about 30 minute drive east of the city.
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| Snapshot of Olesnica, Poland |
The team
was founded by Babatunde Aiyegbusi, a massive Polish-Nigerian whose short
highlight tape landed him a FA deal with the Minnesota Vikings. To see and read
about where he is now and compare to where he comes from is quite a thing.
The
players of Oleśnica speak of Babatunde, known as Babs in Western Poland and
Minnesota, in reverence, as if he has embarked on a holy mission. Babs in
essence is the patron saint of the squad, the founder and supporter of this
rookie club I have the joy of coaching. Everyone who knows Babs are so proud
that someone from their relatively small city is representing them in one of
the world's most popular sports. Indeed, Babs' mere presence at an NFL camp, I
believe, has put a foot in the door for other unfounded European athletes
primed to play American football.
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| Meeting my boss. |
But Babs
is not the focus of this story here. He may return in a later post should he
officially survive a full NFL camp and latch on to the 53-man Minnesota roster,
and that will then be a story of remarkable accomplishment and a modern-day
retelling of pursuing an American dream. I want to tell you about the
30-or-so-man roster he began back in his adopted Polish hometown of Oleśnica.
A day
before the club's first match, equipment was distributed. Next to the box of
ear pads and shoulder pads were three rolls of carpet padding. Only one pair of
thigh and knee pads were available, but they did not belong to anybody. Those
single pairs were to be used as stencils, pressed against the carpet padding
and a blade used to slice around the edges. In the end, 30 pairs of square
paddings were made to be used as substitutes for actual thigh and knee boards.
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| Babs at mini-camp with the Vikings. Photo credit Ann Heisenfelt, Associated Press |
A few
days earlier, in a casual conversation about Babs, team president Przemek
expressed hope that maybe Babetunde could ship home some unused Minnesota
Vikings equipment for them to use. At the time I thought to myself, "that’s
a silly and naïve thought." But after seeing the team construct their own equipment
from carpet padding, I began to hope for the same thing.
A moment
like this has occurred more than once in my two-year involvement of American
football on European soil. Like the British lads I played with two years ago,
these Polish men, many working long hours in tough jobs, mostly midnight shifts,
will do anything to get their hands of something related to American football.
Youths such as the Oleśnica players must either illegally stream poor quality
live feeds of NFL and NCAA football games or recap them on YouTube. To simply
order a pair of gloves or cleats often costs most of their monthly pay check,
or alternatively they buy second-hand items that has travelled across the face
of Europe like a laundered Euro note. I then have to take a moment of
reflection and realise how much I took this game for granted. Gear was handed
to me every year by my university, and I bemoaned this because I then had
nowhere else in my locker to place it!
The club
has to go extra lengths just to be able to conduct one practice. Oleśnica
borrows shoulder pads and helmets from its "parent" club, the Wrocław
Outlaws, the team which I play for. Every other day, someone is elected to
drive 45 minutes from Oleśnica to a Wrocław training session to drop of the
pads, then wait two hours for their practice to finish to only return the pads
for their training the next day. This has been done several months now.
The
club's first ever match, after weeks of trial and error on my behalf on how to
single-handedly coach an entire squad, was something special, despite its
ending. Many from the city came to watch the match played out on a converted
soccer pitch, and there was even a special introduction from the mayor of Oleśnica.
Our opponent was another new club but of the Polish 8-man Division, Jaguars
Kąty Wrocławskie, and they were coached by a former Polish national team
lineman.
By the
end of the first quarter, we were winning 12-0. Frankly, I was as stunned as
anyone else. We first scored by slowly pounding the ball down the field,
scoring on a short QB designed run. Next drive, after a turnover, I signalled
in Liverpool, a play stolen from my British club's playbook, and the deep route
ran by speedster Adek Choma in his Green Bay Packer-themed Nike cleats left him
wide open and quarterback Adrian Cholewa gunned the ball right to him. The
crowd went wild. They had never seen such a choreography of athleticism, and I
was being thanked by the players for teaching them such a play.
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| Team photo after inaugural match |
Sadly,
our offence stuttered from then on and the defence did all they could to hold
out but the Jaguars walked away the victors 14-12. The loss hurt the team, yes,
but the thrill of having just played their first American football game washed
over any physical or emotional pain.
Cheers
rang: "Dziękujemy! Dziękujemy!" (We thank you) to the Oleśnica supporters,
the new lovers of American football. Team photos were had, Tyskies imbibed,
pierogis consumed (mostly by me).
It was
not until later that I realised I had just coached my first ever football
match. And in Poland, to add. I was coaching a bunch of mostly blue-collared
working guys who can hardly understand anything I tell them any lest I have
Przemek translate for me. I messaged my Dad when I returned home and told him
about the match and the final score. He reminded me that he too had lost his
head coaching debut by two points. Therein lied a special connection.
I felt
tremendous honour in coaching the guys in their first game, and more emotions
were added when my Facebook inbox began to fill up with heartfelt thanks from
many of the players. Thus far it has been a special journey. Teaching a group
of rookies how to play from square one has many challenges (telling offensive
blockers that tackling is not blocking was one early hurdle) but, as they often
say about challenges, it has been rewarding.
It was a
good night sleep that night. With feet aching, and Polish beer and sausage
lulling me to sleep, I was feeling something I never thought I would. And it's
a feeling I never would have imagined because I was certain that this was not
the path for me (and it is still undetermined if it will be in the long run).
I felt
the sense of pride and satisfaction that I am sure all great coaches have felt:
These are my guys.
The
season is ongoing with a 1-2 preseason record and a 0-2 regular season start.
Commentators from around the country have noted how much more competitive Oleśnica
has been this season than expected for a completely rookie squad.
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| Victory lap after the club's first ever win. |
