I've had just enough time... to remember the little boy kicking the ball in the street
These images
are drive-by shootings. I was in a car in Yangon Myanmar, squeezing through the
crowded streets where old cars (government policy only allows import of second
hand cars) shared the same space with bicycles, trishaws and trucks. Thankfully,
there were no motor-bikes which are banned in the street of Yangon for the cars
are confusing enough with right-handed drives and left-handed drives sharing the
same road moving in both directions. I saw a crowd occupying one part of the
road next to the shoulder and wondered why they are gathered there.
It seemed
they are watching a game in progress. One guy obviously a player himself by his
uniform is sitting on a trishaw with his knee up watching the game even though
other spectators were blocking his view. There were spectators watching from
the balconies and windows of the shop block. Some of the spectators were
wearing trousers while more are wearing sarongs but all non-players were
wearing flip-flops. This is street football, Myanmar style.
The curb
marked one side of the ‘field’ while a raffle string that separated the road
marked the outer boundary with crates and parked cars and trucks marked both
ends. The ‘field’ itself is just the paved surface of the road with crude chalk
markings.
Please take
note of the players’ footwear. The player challenging for the ball wore boots, the
other defender wore socks with the big toe sticking out and a knee guard below
the knee while the attacker was wearing an ankle guard on one leg. This seemed
to be a good representation of the footwears of the players.
The game
was proceeding at a lively pace with the ball moved up and down the court with
each side trying to take it to the scoring zone where a tiny and low goalpost
sat at each end. Imagine raw feet charging on the hot, rough, and abrasive road
surface and you will wince. But this does not shock me as much as bringing back
nostalgic memories for that was precisely what we did too as kids. And the way
to differentiate the teams then was always, those with shirts and those without
and we always hoped we will be the shirtless team so they won’t turn up torn. I so wanted to stop and watched the game but
the car was moving on…
