#1
“We’ve been out here these last three days and have not won,” said Akila King of Oakland. “But next week, we’re gonna win… I mean, I won before,” she laughs. “One day I’ll win big again.” Before long, she mentions the real reason she comes to the races every week. She comes to spend time with her father, Joe. “He’s been doing it since I was little… I’m the only one that will come with him. My brothers, my sisters, they won’t come.” Joe pores over the Daily Racing Form in the car behind her, already preparing for next week’s slate. Though Akila initially set out to keep her father company, she’s become a competent handicapper in her own right. Incidentally, whether it be the collective anguish of defeat, or the hope for tomorrow, the shared chaos of the track has forged an unbreakable father-daughter bond. But she has to admit, it’s much better when they’re winning. “We’re keeping our fingers crossed.”
#2
#3
“Growing up in New York, everyone else around you grew up watching the Knicks, the Jets, the Giants, football and basketball basically, and you’re that one kid that grew up watching soccer. It kind of took a toll at some point because you didn’t feel normal because everyone else was just teasing you and just bothering you about the things you like, about how you present yourself.
But growing up, you got over it, like I got over it for sure and I just went full-throttle about what is New York City FC. This is my team and I’m really proud of it, and I’m happy because I got to meet unique individuals who are just like me growing up, so that brought me closer to the team and this sport.
They’ve really taken the idea of representing the five boroughs and all of New York, and that makes me very proud that I’m rooting for a team that really cares about our city and our state.
In five years, when people think of New York, they think of the Yankees, the Mets, and the Knicks, but for sure NYCFC is going to be up there.”
-Deron Jenkins, 26
#4
“Every single day that I see somebody, I tell them how important deFremery is…I’m scared, I’m scared of what’s going to happen to that pool. We have families that are fighting to make sure that these black kids are still in that water because as people move in, and they see these facilities they think of it for themselves ‘cuz they don’t think we want to be there.”
“A part of me didn’t want to come back this summer anyway because I felt like I let everybody down. I let everybody down through the system that let me down, and I was just over it.” –Leon Sykes
#5
Dennis Jaffe, 71, Kezar Stadium, San Francisco
“You start off with a wooden sword and then work your way up to the real thing. It’s called Kwan Um Do Kwang. It’s a martial art from Korea. I started doing it about 15 years ago with my son and I just kept doing it. I practice here in San Francisco. There are kids, women, all ages in our school. I am the oldest, I’m 71, but I still keep practicing. My son still practices, my wife joined us after a while, too. I’m a black belt now. There are something like 200 forms and I know 28 of them.
“I usually practice here in the stadium. One time I was practicing outside near a school and suddenly five police showed up. They asked what I was doing and told me to move like I was some kind of lunatic. You don’t need a license to carry a sword in America. You don’t really compete in this art except against yourself. But you have to remember that the movements you are making are blocks and strikes designed to be used against real people. Ultimately, you could kill someone.”
#6
“People ask me, when you die, do you want to be buried or what? And I’m like No, I don’t want to be buried. My cell is literally, basically a box. And I’ve been living in these boxes for years. So I’d rather be cremated. And I saw on this PBS show that they can take these ashes and turn it into a diamond so I want to have my ashes turned into a diamond. A friend of mine, told me I have a daughter, it was with a girl that, you know, we had a one night stand. She told my homeboy that we had a daughter, and he finally wrote me years later, telling me: “Yeah you have this daughter named Stacy, and she was born in 1995.” It feels… it feels fucked up. If she’s my daughter I know she’s wondered who I am, why I’m not there, why did I abandon her, why did I never look for her and its because I never knew she existed until 2014.If I ever find her, I would want me to be turned into a diamond and I would want to be with her.”
#7
He (my brother) was almost three years old. He died actually this month, years ago in 2007. … So that’s one of the hardest times of the year. … He had kidney failure. We had different mums but same dad, but you know we used to take care of him all the time – me and my dad and my brother. He kind of looked like me too, we had the same kind of eyes. … I was young. I was 17. His funeral was actually like five days before my birthday. It was my birthday yesterday, so every time I think about it – my birthday – I just remember going to the funeral like maybe four – I think it was four or five days before my birthday. And it’s just that made me realize like life is short. He was almost three years old, and he didn’t even make it, so it made me cherish life more. … I try to put everything. My mum told me to put this arm with the tattoos like this coz it’s close to my heart. … You know you have certain times in your life you’ll never forget? It teaches you to cherish life – it’s short.
#8/9
“In this city, to me, everything revolves around soccer.” — Abraham Montaño
“For two hours, or for 80 minutes, you made this whole community happy. You made everybody smile, because they saw how beautiful you played and how hard you worked.” – Alisal Coach Mark Cisneros
#10
Henok Beyene prepares for a soccer game at Oakland Technical High School in Oakland, California on Saturday, March 12th. Beyene, a 19-year-old from Eritrea, one of the most repressive countries in Africa, started studying at Oakland International High School last year.
Beyene waits for BART train at Bayview Station on Sunday, Feb. 25th before starting his night shift working as a cashier at a gas station in Castro Valley, California. He works all night every Friday, Saturday and Sunday to support his family.
#11
OG comes to the park everyday. He comes for the company, to see friends, to gamble a few bucks over a game of dice. Every now and then he plays volleyball but he says he feels too weak these days. Five nights a week, he works the night shift at a doughnut shop in Sacramento, which he drives to after a day in the park. He is one of the originals at Oak Park; at 63 years old, he was one of the first men to start playing in the park after arriving in Stockton as a refugee who escaped the Khmer Rouge.
“The war. See here? I got hit by bullet, a lot. In my head too. From 16 to 21 years old. Five years. The war, five years. Everyone died. A lot. You know killing fields? For real. I lose all my family, my mom, my dad, my brother, my sister…When I think that, I feel not good.”
Storytelling Through Sports 