LOVE AND TACKLES: A WONDERFUL STORY ABOUT ISRAEL’S FOOTBALL LEAGUE BY EMILY AMROUSI
http://www.israelhayom.com/site/newsletter_article.php?id=10973
A tale of love and tackles: The story of Israel’s football league
More than a thousand enthusiasts play in Israel’s little known, underfunded
football league • Most of the players are observant Jews, but there are also
Palestinians • Love for the game is the main ingredient that keeps this league
alive and flourishing.
This is not a sports feature. The writer of these words views all sports as
a dangerous pastime, and therefore spends her time folding laundry as a
form of exercise. Changing bed
sheets is like doing aerobics, as far as I’m concerned. So when Yonah
from the football league tries to engage me in a conversation about the
details of the dramatic touchdown during his last game — I’m not really
listening. Just like any other sport, all I see when it comes to
football is a bunch of men chasing a ball. Sometimes they kick it, other
times they grab it, and sometimes they even kick and grab their
opponents.
So it turns out that there is a football league in Israel — alive and
kicking and extremely colorful. About a month ago, the Israel’s men’s
team even won the European championships (The Big Bowl). The Israeli
men’s team is coached by a rabbi at a yeshiva (religious Jewish school).
His mother cooked one hundred kosher meals for the team, which were
transported in frozen containers. The coach of the women’s team is nine
months pregnant. When people talk about “touching the ball” they are
careful not to hurt her feelings. The men, who play tackle American
football, blow a shofar (a horn usually blown at Jewish religious
services) before every game, and draw strength from inspiring biblical
sermonettes on the war between Jacob and Esau.
So where does this league recruit its players? “If I see someone on the
street with wide enough shoulders, I recruit them to the league,” says
Uria Loberbom, 31, the captain of the Israeli national team.
I decided to leave the rules of the game in the same foggy area of my
brain reserved for Olympic sports and turned to the task of getting to
know the people involved in the league. What amazing people they turned
out to be. Shai Brill, a new immigrant from Brooklyn, has a unique good
luck ritual: before important games he head butts his teammates. They
wear helmets, while he does the butting bear-headed. “I get a slight
concussion from doing it, but after about ten minutes it works itself
out and I get on the field to play,” he explained.
Avi Eastman, a league coach, served as a major in the U.S. military,
manning a nuclear missile battery. David, Guy and Menachem have all
broken bones in their arms and legs (“and we’re not the only ones”) and
simply continued playing with broken bones. Zair, from Chicago, is a
Christian man married to a Palestinian woman. He says he believes that
“Hashem helps us win,” using the term for God, literally meaning “the
name”, usually used only by Jews.
“Like combat soldiers versus desk duty soldiers”
The Israel Football League, or IFL, is sponsored by New England Patriots
owner Robert Kraft and his family, and was founded in 2005. It currently
boasts dozens of teams and about 1,000 permanent players. Kraft is a
wealthy Jewish businessman who serves as the near exclusive sponsor of
league purely for Zionist reasons. The State of Israel provides nominal
funding for the league — about as much as you can stuff into the pocket
of a marsupial — amounting to about 90,000 shekels (roughly $25,000)
per year. Of the 70 branches of sport that the state funds (ballroom
dancing! Roller-skating! Kendu and Budo!), football comes in seventh
from last. Israel’s Osho Kung Fu fighters get five times more funding
than the country’s football players. The bowling-like sport of Petanque
enjoys four times as much state funding and even the sport of trampoline
jumping gets twice as much funding than Israel’s football league.
In the U.S., football is the highest rated sport on television, but in
Israel, the football league is flying entirely under the public’s radar,
at an almost underground level. The league includes classic “tackle
football” teams — with full gear: shoulder pads, helmets, etc. — and a
softer, Jewish version with less body contact, known as “flag football”
(or as the tackle guys call it, “fag football”).
With all due respect to the internal struggles within the league
(“tackle versus flag is like combat soldiers playing desk duty
soldiers”), American Football in Israel (AFI) is serious business. The
league is a member of the International Federation of American Football
(IFAF) and competes in international tournaments. One thing led to
another and even a non-profit organization to promote American football
in Israel was founded.
The current commissioner of the IFL is Betzalel Friedman. He is only 28
years old and looks like a typical history teacher — with glasses and a
crease in his pants. He has been playing football since recess in
elementary school in Indiana. Friedman left a cushy job in high-tech to
tend to the high levels of testosterone and sweat on the Israeli
football fields.
The Israeli tackle league includes 11 professional teams and eight youth
teams. Efforts to start a female tackle team have so far failed, and
soon you will learn why. The flag league includes 50 men’s teams, 20
women’s teams and 10 youth teams. There are after school football clubs
for kids, a little league, and even a fan club. The Israeli finals were
broadcast on American cable television.
It is a hot scene that often provides opportunities for unusual
meetings. About a year ago, the Israeli tackle league played a Baptist
college team from the U.S. (“they slaughtered us, mercilessly. But that
is how it is when you start playing at age 8 and play every single day
— when you turn 18 you are an athletic machine. It doesn’t matter how
good we thought we were, next to them we looked like clunkers.”) This
year, the league was approached by Egypt’s national team(!) seeking a
friendly match, but in the end, it did not take place.
IFL games are open to the public. The cost of a ticket is 20 shekels
($5.5) for a tackle game and only 5 shekels ($1.4) for a flag game.
Hundreds of spectators come to every game, sometimes more than the
number of spectators who attend Israel Premier League soccer games. At
championship games there are often over a thousand fans.
The main stadium where games are held is the Kraft Stadium in Jerusalem.
Robert Kraft built the stadium in memory of his wife Myra, who died of
cancer in 2011. Though it is smaller than a traditional football
stadium, it is the closest thing we have to America. “We love you,
Kraft! What would we do without you?” The crowd yelled into my camera,
shortly before I reminded them that it was a stills camera.
Football in Israel is extremely American, with a strong religious Jewish
leaning. The Israeli championships were nicknamed “The Holyland Bowl”
and in the dressing room you will see the players folding their kippot
and stuffing their tzitzitot (ritual fringes worn by observant Jews)
into their pants. Admit that this is something you have never seen
before: Men in tights and tzitzitot.
“We should get a medal from the Immigration Absorption Ministry,” the
team medic told me. “This sport manages to convince Jews to stay in
Israel — there are players who come [to Israel] only for a year or two,
for university studies or on a yeshiva program, and the fact that there
is football in Israel keeps them here for good.”
Take Zair Harris, for example, a 29-year-old African American Christian
born in Chicago who came to Israel for his Palestinian wife, but stayed
for the football. “Before we Moved to Israel I wasn’t sure that I would
find a place to play football. But they welcomed me with open arms. I am
learning about Shabbat and getting used to the antics of religious
Jews.” Is that Zionism at play or what?
When Harris sprints at the speed of a rocket ship, surpassing Moshe the
photographer’s fastest shutter speed, Friedman, the commissioner, is on
cloud nine. “I am thrilled to have him with us,” said Friedman. “He is
on par with the best professional athletes in the U.S.”
I had to ask him about the Judean Rebels’ — the team he plays on —
team color: Orange. I wondered if it was inspired by the orange attire
worn demonstratively in 2005 by opponents of the evacuation of the
settlements in Gush Katif (in Gaza Strip). He had no idea what I was
talking about it.
“Love has no color,” he said. “We all have red blood.”
We move on to the women’s league. Next to a display holding 12 trophies,
and with a third place victory in this year’s European championship,
these cute girls sit braiding each other’s hair. Ilana Frenkel, a player
on the national team, is the sister of David, who plays on the men’s
team. Rachel Shmidman is Aaron’s sister. Both sets of siblings come from
American families.
Most of the women players are religious (“the next championship game
falls on a Sukkot holiday, and we won’t be able to play”) and the
general experience reflects that. The team’s first touchdown, in the
Dominican Republic, was made by a woman wearing a traditional Jewish
headscarf. Once, a girl ran the entire length of the field without pants
on, because someone had pulled down her pants along with the flag. But
everyone’s role model is Sandy, an ultra-Orthodox woman from Jerusalem
and mother of six who plays like a ferocious lioness.
With the exception of two women, all the players on the women’s teams
are single. How does football affect the dating world? “When they learn
that we play football, they need further explanation,” one of the girls
said. “If they even know what football is.”
“Every time we get hurt and go to the doctor, we have to explain that
football is not rugby,” another girl said.
“You’re in good shape if your doctor even knows what rugby is,” said a
third. “They usually write ‘soccer injury’ when they fill out the
paperwork. Or they ask if it is that game with the bat.”
“The women’s team is like our little sisters,” the men remarked when
asked whether they would consider dating the girls on the other side of
the field. “We would never date them.”
Yossi Fuchs, 33, coaches the Men’s National Flag Football team. He is a
rabbi at the Torat Shraga yeshiva. Jessica Sagoskin, 30, who coaches the
women’s national team, is well into her ninth month of pregnancy. Under
these circumstances, it is no wonder that they all take a break in the
middle of a practice to pray Mincha (the afternoon Jewish prayer
service) on the field. “During the month of Elul we played in Ireland
and we blew the shofar — which is supposed to bring good luck. We
brought Bibles with us from Israel. Yossi’s mother cooked all our meals
for us in advance.”
“Everyone here has broken some bones”
The Judean Rebels are a wild team of tackle football players. True, they
wear shoulder pads and tights, but you wouldn’t want to run into any of
them alone in a dark alley. When they tackle each other, with light,
sportsmanlike spirit, you can hear the crackle of bones breaking.
Afterwards, they assure me that there is limit to how many concussions
one person can sustain in one game. Once a player reaches the limit,
they are benched for the rest of the game.
“You see what goes on here,” said Uria Loberbom, the captain of the
national tackle team. “Next to us, the flag team looks like pussies.
Let’s just say that everyone here has broken some bones. If it’s a
sprain, no one gets worked up about it.”
Loberbom is a good B’nei Akiva boy who chanced upon this bone crushing
hobby the same way models are scouted. “I’m a pretty wide guy,” he
explained to me. “Someone just approached me on the street and asked me
if I wanted to play. Ever since I started playing football, I recruit
players in the same way. Anyone who looks big and solid, I approach
them.”
But not all the players look like superheroes. Among the players I found
a museum tour guide, two physicists, a vice president at Amdocs and
three accountants. All of them are in their late 20s or early 30s. They
wear glasses to work and beat the crap out of their football friends in
their spare time. Chaim Schiff from Givan Shmuel, a delicate looking
businessman who deals with offshore oil and gas drilling, has been
playing football for 20 years. “Playing with children half my age helps
keep me young at heart,” he declared.
“What does your wife have to say about it?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t be here if she didn’t approve,” Schiff replied.
Daniel Goldberg, 35, is an accountant. “My cousin dragged me. I only
stayed once I realized it could help me get dates with girls. When I
told girls that I played football, their eyes sparkled.”
Zack Miller, 39, is an investment manager. He holds the league record
for number of rushing touchdowns (6). At the age of 17, as an American
high school student, Miller visited the Nazi concentration camps in
Poland and decided to become religious. He became ultra-Orthodox,
studied at a Kolel, married an observant Jewish woman, and had five
children (currently aged between 5 and 17). A year ago he decided to
abandon the observant lifestyle and became secular. Touchdown.
During every game, once they are on the field, the Judean Rebels gather
around Shlomo Shechter, the team’s defensive coordinator who, alongside
his defense duties is also currently studying to be a rabbi. Shechter
infuses the players with Jewish warrior spirit: “This is Jacob versus
Esau! The Hasmoneans! Bar Kochba! Amalek versus the Israelites! Isaac
and Ishmael! The Romans! The Book of Daniel says that Jerusalem is Karta
Demerdata — a city of rebellion. Let’s go! We are going to win!”
Then comes the big coach — the one whom everyone obeys. With a long
white beard, looking like the prophet Elijah, 64-year-old Avi Eastman
stands in front of the rowdy group of youngsters and gives them a pep
talk in American English.
“I am a football player at heart, and a coach in practice,” he
apologized to me. “I stopped playing only because my wife threatened to
break both my knees if I kept at it. I got hurt so many times playing
football that she was simply unwilling to take care of me anymore.”
Eastman served as an officer in the U.S. military for 20 years, at a
location he can’t disclose. Just to paint a complete picture: He wears
Hawaiian print shirts to synagogue on Shabbat. He also wore a Hawaiian
print to his son’s wedding recently.
“I hope that this continues to grow and that it draws more Israelis,” he
said about the league, as he dealt a few friendly spanks to players that
passed by. “I’m glad that young people are channeling their energy into
such an endeavor. It prevents them from getting into trouble elsewhere.”
When I see that every piece of metal on the field (fences, poles) is
wrapped in layers of foam, and that every player is padded with the
equivalent of a mattress on their shoulders, knees, backside and chest
(they don’t wear cups — “It gets in the way when you’re running”), I
understand that what they are doing requires serious protection.
Binyamin Schultz, son to a mother from Ghana and a father from Sweden,
said that “people talk a lot about violence in sport, but there is no
violence here on our courts, because we let out all of our rage and
nerves during the games. White doves.
Gai Van Straten, a high-tech man from Raanana, was one of the founders
of the tackle football league in Israel. Playing with the Jerusalem
Lions, he broke a leg, a foot, a rib, a collarbone, another rib, and
kept going until he tore the ligaments in his knee. He then became a
referee in the league. He kept his helmet, hoping that the son he will
have someday will make him happy and use it.
“Yes,” he said. “The aggression drew me. When you put the helmet on your
head it is as though you are transported into another world, like when
you’re diving and your ears and eyes are underwater. It is a violent
sport, but it is always in control. You can smash into people and tear
them apart, and then give them a hand and help them up. There is a
feeling that no matter how hard you hit me, we are still friends, and we
are both a part of a small, exclusive project. Camaraderie among
warriors.”
“Do you feel a warriors’ camaraderie with the flag football players as
well?” I asked.
“With them it is more like the classic tension between the combat
soldiers and the soldiers who work in offices in the army. The flag
players are extremely capable but it is much easier to run and catch
when you are not being pummeled. The whole point of football is the
tackles, the contact, the physical aspect. Flag football is like playing
baseball without a bat. Yeah, they have impressive achievements
internationally, but for me it is all or nothing. You don’t play
football without contact.”
(In response, the flag players said “we are more athletic, less
primitive, and our game requires more sophistication.”)
“Flag football was invented in response to the Yiddishe mamas who
wouldn’t let their sons play football. In the Israeli culture, it is
reversed: Just give Israelis something to fight about, and they’re
happy. Rugby players think that they are tougher, but when you have
padding, getting slammed with a helmet in the stomach hurts more than
getting hit with a bear head.”
Shai Brill, who moved to Israel on his own from the U.S. and head-butts
his friends before important games, feels that the team is his family.
“Here I get to meet native Israelis that I would never have met
elsewhere.”
Until two years ago, three Palestinian brothers played in the Judean
Rebels. Brill and his friends went to visit them several times in
Ramallah, armed with American passports and the facial expression of an
innocent tourist.
“The championship game against Tel Aviv was the same week as the Fogel
family murder,” one of the players said, referring to the brutal murder
of five members of the Fogel family by Palestinian terrorists in the
settlement of Itamar in 2011 “We decided to get on the field wearing
black ribbons. You should have seen Mohammed, Ayub and Moussa wearing
black ribbons as a sign of mourning for the attack.”
It’s all thanks to Saddam
So why football, of all things? Some of the players were looking for a
speck of nostalgia to remind them of home back in the U.S., others were
mesmerized by the tough charm they saw on television. “Football is one
of the greatest loves of my life,” van Straten declared. “It’s all
thanks to Saddam Hussein: During the Gulf War, cable television was
brought to Israel. There was nothing to watch at night in the sealed
rooms other than football games that aired on the Middle Eastern
channel. I fell in love. It’s not an individual sport; it’s a team
sport. Even if you purchase a star player for your team, it doesn’t help
unless everyone is in the fight. It’s a very strong sense of
commitment.”
“We will play in any weather. We will freeze to death in the cold and
the hail, or alternately evaporate in the heat. Look at what happens at
the Sportech when one drop of rain falls — everyone runs to their cars.
That doesn’t happen to us. There is also a very strong aspect of Israeli
pride. In almost every game, someone arrives in (army) uniform, carrying
their weapon, just back from reserve duty. During Operation Pillar of
Defense (in Gaza in November 2012) and Operation Cast Lead (in Gaza in
December 2008) we had to cancel games.”
After all the broken bones and bruises, another extremely sore spot is
the issue of money. “The state invests in minor sports like Bridge and
rope pulling,” Van Straten complained. “But football has grown by 2,000
percent over the last six years, and still all we get are crumbs.”
On their last trip to Europe for the championship games in Germany, the
players had to pay quite a lot of money out of pocket to fund their
travel expenses. They already pay for all the equipment themselves.
“Sometimes we don’t play in competitions around the world because we
can’t afford the flights,” the players lamented.
“People who pay out of their own pockets to travel to games, to buy
equipment, to fly — these are people who play out of pure love,” said
Loberbom. “Incidentally, without love, the tackling wouldn’t work
either. We are good friends so we are able to tackle each other in good
fun. One minute after the game ends, the two teams will have a beer
together. But as long as we’re on the field, we will tear each other
apart without a second thought.”
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