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A couple of months ago, I finally got the opportunity to take my son Eli and daughter Josie to Ecuador. Just as when I was a kid visiting family, wherever we went, we made sure to get a soccer game in. Games that I hoped would teach them the lessons soccer had taught me. 

Soccer was my gift from the old country. I learned to play everywhere from La Carolina, Quito's largest public park, to the cement courts of Los Dos Puentes, one of the poorest barrios in the city. Ecuador is where my love affair with the game first began. It’s a place I knew I had to take my own kids one day. 

Santo Domingo de los Colorados - Not only do we always play, but everyone is invited. 

It wasn’t easy being the first son of an immigrant family—a family that still wore the scars of generational poverty and violence. Soccer offered me my first real chance at winning. There was no guarantee I would win, but everywhere else in life I didn’t have much of a chance—not at school or at home. Soccer is the great equalizer though. Whether you’re playing at Camp Nou or on the side of a mountain, we’re all on equal footing. We play on the same field, with the same ball, under the same rules. 

Guamanpata, Chimborazo - Nothing like shagging a ball at the bottom of the mountain to help your accuracy.

Speaking of rules, soccer also provided my first taste of democracy. Who was going to play facing the sun for the first half? When a ball hit the curb and went out of bounds, who did it touch last? Was that a clean tackle or a foul? As kids we would play for soda or ice cream; as teenagers we played for cash. So the rules we played by and the way we dealt with grievances was very important. The rules I learned in Ecuador inspired some of SOPFC’s core pickup soccer rules, including calling your own fouls and no one else’s, and respecting the calls of others.

Santo Domingo de los Colorados - My son Eli losing a kickoff, because paper beats rock.

Although I am super thankful to play soccer in America—where turf fields ensure you don’t have to breathe in the dust from dirt parks, and serious lighting means always being able to find a pass because you can actually see your teammates—I will never forget where I learnt to play. Ecuador taught me to appreciate the game at its simplest. Even if all we had was an alleyway and street lights, scoring a goal on your best friend is as good as it gets. Everything else is just gravy.

La Carolina, Quito - Cousins suffering a brain freeze after winning shaved ice during a pickup game.

My hope for my kids, as well as for SOPFC, is that we learn to value what's most important: each other. Soccer doesn’t have to be just a simple game with winners and losers. By appreciating each other, our teammates, and our opponents, we create memories that are everlasting—the kind that will have you journey over 2,000 miles and across the Andes just to share those moments again.

Guamanpata, Chimborazo - Lining up a power shot on his big brother.