Away games

[Times photos: Carrie Pratt] Ana Maye, center, captain of Las Nuevas Amigas, watches Marieraz Barragan, playing for Las Cometas, dribble the ball during the season’s final game.

By CHRISTINA HEADRICK, Times Staff Writer
© St. Petersburg Times
published July 7, 2002

Mexican women in Clearwater have found a place that finally feels like home. The basketball court.

CLEARWATER -- Ana Maye misses many things about Mexico, but most of all, she misses Esnel.

Her 15-year-old son.

Two years ago, Ana and her husband, Juan Lopez, made the agonizing decision to leave Esnel with her sister's family and travel to Clearwater to work. They call their son often, parenting by telephone from 1,200 miles away.

On a recent evening, Ana hears her teenager utter the words many parents fear: He wants to drop out of school.

Ana Maye attempts to make a phone call to her teenage son Esnel who lives with relatives in Mexico. She and her husband, Juan Lopez, were trying to persuade Ensel to stay in school.

"Que piensas? What are you thinking?" Ana says. "That I'm going to allow you to go around with your friends? No, my love."

"Puedo trabajar. I could work," her son says, grumpily. He confesses he probably will fail his final exams.

"Give school your best effort," Ana pleads in Spanish. "It's not for my own good I'm saying this."

Mother and son decide to talk again in a few weeks, when his test scores are back.

Ana's separation from her son is just one of her many struggles here in America.

She spends days toiling at low-paying jobs. She and Juan live with five other adults and two children in a two-bedroom apartment. She speaks almost no English. No American, she says, ever has taken time to ask her: How are you?

But there is one place here, a special place, where Ana never feels insignificant. A place where she rejuvenates herself. Where she escapes her worries about her son. Where everyone speaks Spanish. Where she feels completely at home.

That place is la cancha de baloncesto. The basketball court.

During the spring basketball season, family and fans line the walls of the Joe DiMaggio Sports Complex to watch the games. Cheering on Las Nuevas Amigas and the Leonas are, from left, Angel Trego Garcia, Adrian Rojo, Roberto Gonzales and Juan Carlos Rojo.

The parking lot of the gym they call "Joe D." is packed with pickup trucks, pictures of Our Lady of Guadalupe dangling from rear-view mirrors.

At the door, a Mexican woman sells huaraches, thick corn tortillas filled with refried beans and topped with a tongue-searing salsa.

Inside, hundreds of mexicanos line two basketball courts, cheering their favorite players.

"Corre! Corre! Corre!" they shout. "Run! Run! Run!"

It's March 30 -- a Saturday night -- and soon Las Nuevas Amigas, the New Friends, will take the court for the first time this season. Ana Maye is their captain. Like most of her teammates, she is barely 5 feet tall.

Many of the women of Las Nuevas Amigas balance the roles of athlete and mother. Elena Maye, Ana’s sister, with nephew Ricardo, the 7-month-old son of Cirilo Maye, her brother.

The Amigas will play 12 games in the coming months against six other teams of Mexican women from throughout the bay area. All games will be at the Joe DiMaggio Sports Complex in Clearwater in a league organized by the Mexican Council of Tampa Bay.

Ana's 2-year-old team is one of the league's best. This season, she dreams of a first-place finish. To get ready, she made her team run laps around a small park. Twice-weekly, she drilled them on passing and shooting.

Ana, 33, is the team's point guard. Her 23-year-old sister, Josefina, is the shooting guard.

Other veteran Amigas include Cristina Pena, 32, and Catalina Cerro, 34. The team's lone non-Mexican is Nancy Sanchez, a 38-year-old Colombian, who owns a Dunedin beauty salon. Five other players rotate in regularly. One is Silvia Nava, recruited to make Las Nuevas Amigas the stuff of champions.

At 5 feet 5 inches, Silvia brings her shorter teammates altitude, as well as attitude. She, too, came here from Mexico, hoping to make money and go back to a better life. But Silvia has stayed. Unlike the other players, she now finds comfort in America where the others struggle.

Silvia, 35, has lived here 12 years, learned English and is an American citizen. She is a bilingual elementary school teacher, helping mostly Mexican students learn basic skills.

She and her husband, Sergio, live in a ranch-style house in Dunedin, complete with enclosed pool and a cocker spaniel. They own a second house in Mexico. Their son attends the University of Florida. Their daughter is at Palm Harbor University High.

Twenty years ago, Silvia took her high school team to a national championship in Mexico. She is eager to see if she still has her game.

The Amigas pile into Joe D.'s powder-blue bathroom to change into their new uniforms -- royal blue with red and white trim. They adjust their sports bras and tie up their raven hair in ponytails. As a final pregame ritual, they share a pack of gum.

"Animo muchachas! Courage women!" Silvia tells her new team, slapping them on the shoulders. "We're going to win!"

When the Amigas re-enter the gym, their opponent, Sparx, is warming up. One player particularly catches their gaze, a 6-footer the Amigas dub "La Grande."

The game begins sloppily. The Amigas miss passes. They lose balls. They make poor shots. Sparx takes the early lead.

Ana covers La Grande. The taller woman can hold the ball out of Ana's reach, so Ana concentrates on La Grande's dribbling, dogging her even after La Grande's elbow smacks Ana's face, giving Ana a black eye.

Slowly, the Amigas get it together. Everyone manages to score with Ana, Josefina and Silvia each sinking two baskets.

Las Nuevas Amigas win 20 to 15. Ana knows they must do better.

During the semifinal game against Granaditas, Ana Maye prepares to take to the court with her teammates of Las Nuevas Amigas. Winning 40-20, Las Nuevas Amigas advanced to the final game.

The next evening, the TV in Ana's apartment is turned to an English-language station, something that rarely happens. It's the women's Final Four college championship, and Ana hopes to pick up some pointers.

The apartment smells of Pine-Sol from the meticulous cleaning. A plastic table and chairs are the dining room set. The living room has two mismatched couches. A picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe, torn from a calendar, hangs on the wall. A wooden entertainment center holds the TV and a VCR. The people in Ana's apartment splurge for cable to get the Spanish stations. Next to the TV is a third-place trophy that Las Nuevas Amigas won in a previous Mexican league tournament.

Though modest, the apartment is a stark contrast to where Ana grew up, a small Indian village called Bingu, two hours north of Mexico City. To bathe, her family went outside and pumped water into a tub. The toilet was an outhouse.

For years, people from this part of Mexico have traveled to Clearwater to work in hotels, restaurants and construction sites. Networks of family and friends help people go back and forth.

Ana's and Juan's goal is much like that of others who have come here: save enough money to go back to Mexico and build a house.

Ana and Juan started their house before coming here. They need $5,000 to finish it. They have traveled 1,200 miles and worked for nearly two years to afford a kitchen and a tile floor.

Juan repairs water scooters on Clearwater Beach. Ana rises before dawn to catch a ride with a friend to her housecleaning job at a Clearwater retirement home. She makes $6 an hour.

But tonight, Ana is not thinking about work. She is studying the game on TV. UConn is winning. Ana and her family call them Las Blancas because of their white uniforms. Oklahoma is Las Rojas.

In Mexico, basketball is one of the few sports open to women. Soccer remains the dominion of men. Ana and another Amiga, Cristina, were on the same high school basketball team. They won local tournaments.

After both journeyed from their village to Clearwater, they formed Las Nuevas Amigas. "Playing basketball helps me to feel more at ease here," Ana says. "When I'm playing, I forget my problems."

The Amigas roll through their early opponents. They knock off the Leonas and Dhoni. Then the Estrellas (Stars) fall convincingly, 41-19.

After each win, they celebrate, dancing the cumbia, merengue and salsa at clubs in Ybor City or at Los Amigos, a Mexican restaurant in Clearwater.

"Cada dia trabajo. Every day, I work," Josefina says. "Saturday nights are something different."

To gear up for the Cometas, the league's only other unbeaten team, the Amigas decide to improve their zone defense.

Mosquitoes are biting when the women gather on a Tuesday night in late April to practice on a concrete court. But first, Josefina brings Silvia a folder full of her first-grade son's homework and a school newsletter. Silvia translates slowly for Josefina, helping her understand the homework. The letter, she explains, is a notice about a teacher appreciation week.

The women’s Final Four championship on television gave the Las Nuevas Amigas players a chance to pick up tips to improve their play. Ana Maye pauses to comment to her sister, while her husband, Juan, keeps an eye on the action.

Then, to get a taste of game action, the Amigas invite a group of men to scrimmage, daring them to try to break their zone.

Four days later, when the Amigas meet the Cometas at Joe D., their zone defense works well, but their shooting is ice cold. After several minutes, the game is tied 4-4.

"Tranquila! Tranquila! Be calm! Be calm!" Cirilo, Ana's brother, yells from the sidelines.

Then Silvia jumps up, grabs a rebound and goes pounding down court.

"Across, Nava! Across!" Cirilo yells.

Silvia lobs a long, arching pass to Josefina, who sprints down court, dribbles once, then tosses the ball at the basket. Swoosh!

"Eso es! That's it! That's it!" her teammates yell, clapping.

Seconds later, Josefina steals the ball and streaks for the hoop.

"Vete! Vete! Go! Go! Go!" her fellow Amigas shout from courtside. "No fouls! No fouls!" Cirilo yells. Other men -- brothers, husbands and friends of the Amigas -- stand beside Cirilo, shouting advice.

Again and again, the Amigas find the basket. The Cometas can't penetrate the Amigas' zone. Ana and Josefina score a combined 24 points. Each has a smooth, confident dribble and a knack for the long pass on a fast break.

The Amigas coast to an impressive 52-18 victory.

Ecstatic, they exchange high fives.

At next Tuesday's practices, the women still are giddy over their win. During a free-throw drill, Josefina poses a challenge: Whoever makes the fewest shots, cleans the toilet at the Maye apartment.

Josefina loses and throws her basketball down in mock fury. Her fellow Amigas crack up laughing.

Cleaning toilets, changing sheets, scrubbing floors -- this is how Ana, Cristina, Catalina and other Amigas spend their days.

"Puro trabajo. Pure work," is how the women describe life here.

Most had easier jobs in Mexico, but the pay was terrible. Even minimum wage in the United States is a step up.

Ana's work routine is to clean one apartment a day at the retirement home. But one morning, soon after the Cometas victory, she is told she no longer has a job. Adios.

Ana is stunned. Tears well up in her eyes. This is the only job she has worked in this country. And she must work. Devastated, Ana stays at home for the next several days, leafing through photos of Esnel and other scenes from back home -- pictures sent by relatives eight months ago.

Maybe she should go back, she wonders. Juan could stay here. His job seems secure.

Finding a new job, Ana knows, won't be easy. Who will understand her? How will she get around? What can she do other than clean?

At an Amigas practice, Ana tells her team what happened. Now, she says, she needs the team more than ever.

The Amigas' winning streak stretches into May. Their rematch with Leonas falls on Cinco de Mayo, which also is Silvia's 36th birthday.

The Amigas defeat the Leonas as soundly as the Mexicans beat the French on the first Cinco de Mayo in 1862. But the victory has a price.

Late in the game, Silvia dashes after a loose ball and collides with a Leonas player. Silvia feels a snap as her right foot twists, then excruciating pain. She lies on the court for 3 minutes, praying to every saint she knows.

On Monday, she still can't walk, so she stays home from her teaching job at Sandy Lane Elementary. On Tuesday, a doctor tells Silvia she has a very bad sprain. His orders: No basketball for two to three months.

That afternoon, Ana calls.

"We need you to come to an important team meeting tonight."

Silvia says she will be there, though Ana's tone worries her. Maybe Ana has more bad news.

Later, Silvia hobbles to practice. "Do you feel any better?" someone asks. "How long are you out of the game?"

"Dos meses! Two months! I told the doctor, 'Treat me like Michael Jordan, because I want to go back out there as soon as I can.' "

Silvia notices her teammates covertly passing around a card. Then she sees the lawn table with helium balloons tied to it.

"Will you accompany us, please?" Ana asks.

At the table, is a white cake with "Happy Birthday Silvia" in Spanish. Its two candles are shaped like male basketball players. "We couldn't find women players," explains Estela.

Silvia's teammates surround her. Josefina sings a song in the Indian language that many Amigas grew up speaking. Then they sing the Spanish song "Las Mananitas." Finally, several of the children at the practice that night break into Happy Birthday in English.

Then Silvia's teammates demand a Mexican tradition: La Mordida, the bite.

Knowing she might fall victim to this prank, Silvia leans down tentatively to take a bite of cake. Suddenly, her teammates push her head down. Silvia stands up, chuckling, her face covered with the peach-flavored cake.

A few days later, May 10, it's Mother's Day in Mexico. But for Ana, far from her son, it's just another Friday, time to job hunt.

First, she has to find a ride. Ana asks one of her brother's friends to drive her around. She also needs his help to fill out applications, because she can't read English. Mid-morning Ana climbs into her friend's white pickup, her sister-in-law, Vicki, comes along for moral support.

A friend has told Ana that a retirement home off Drew Street needs workers. Ana doesn't know the name, just the general area; they eventually find it. Ana's friend fills out her application.

Next stop is a McDonald's. Ana gets a break; the manager is Mexican. She says there might be work. Ana completes another application. Her brow scrunches as she tries to understand.

Job search ended for the day, Ana and Vicki are dropped off at their apartment. They open the door to find roses. Josefina's son, Jonathan, 6, has decorated the apartment for the five mothers who live there.

After dinner, they decide to call home. Ana hits "speaker" on their kitchen telephone, so everyone can talk. The call doesn't go through.

Using a calling card with a picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe, Ana dials again. Same problem.

The phone in their tiny Mexican village must be out of order. A Mother's Day disappointment.

For two weeks in May, the Amigas have no games. Other sporting events bump the Mexican league from Joe D.

The team tries to stay focused, gathering one night at Silvia's house to study videos of their wins. But before the tape starts, Ana has some news.

"I have a job," she announces.

After weeks of looking, Ana has been hired at a packaging company. Her teammates congratulate her. Ana laughs more tonight than in weeks.

The games finally resume in early June. The Amigas are the league's only undefeated team, but this night they must play a doubleheader.

Silvia shows up in uniform, despite doctor's orders not to play. She plans to encourage the Amigas from the sidelines.

The first game is against Dhoni, and the Amigas are rusty after the two weeks off. Point for point, Dhoni keeps up with them.

Silvia can't take it. In the second half, she tapes her ankle and limps onto the court to rally her team.

Catalina ties the game at 17-17, as the 40-minute game clock expires. They play a 5-minute overtime. Ana scores the Amigas' only two points. Dhoni scores three.

The Amigas are mortal after all. They lose 20-19.

In the second game, the Amigas are themselves again. They stomp the Estrellas and stay in first place.

On Esnel's 16th birthday, Ana must settle for phoning her son to wish him a "Feliz Cumpleanos." But today, he has a gift for her.

"Pase el ano! I passed the year!" Esnel says proudly.

Ana is relieved. She has good news, too. In two days, the Amigas play the Leonas in the championship game.

Las Nuevas Amigas player Silvia Nava gives Ana Maye an encouraging pat as she heads back to the court for the second half of the game against the Leonas.

Although the Leonas are a much taller team, the Amigas have beaten them twice this season.

When Ana arrives at Joe D., the mood is kicked up a notch. Tonight, it costs $1 to enter. The bleachers are pulled out for a crowd of about 500. Latin dance music blares from speakers.

At first, it's close, tied 6-6. Then the Leonas start hitting from the outside. Josefina is knocked flat on her face twice. Amigas' fans boo.

At half-time, the Leonas are ahead 14-11.

In the second half, the Amigas continue to struggle. Neither Ana nor Josefina can get to the basket.

Silvia, playing on her hurt ankle, takes the lead on the offensive end, working for shots. When her teammates aren't ready for rebounds, she throws up her hands.

"Give it your best!" she calls out.

The Leonas pressure Silvia, fouling her repeatedly. Late in the game, she has attempted 12 free throws, but made only one. Every foul shot eats away at the clock, which isn't stopped for time-outs, let alone free throws.

With 57 seconds left, the Leonas are up by two, 23-21.

Ana grabs a rebound and hefts a pass the length of the court to Silvia, who is within 10 feet of the goal. She could tie it. But Silvia is fouled while shooting, her shot rimming out.

The clock still running, Silvia goes to the line for two free throws.

The crowd whistles wildly. If she needs quiet to concentrate, she isn't going to get it.

Silvia leans down, dribbles seven times, clock ticking away. She shoots.

No good.

Ana, watching from the lane, drops her head.

Silvia readies for her final try. Again, a deep breath, more dribbles.

This one is good. It's 23-22, but just 10 seconds are left.

The Leonas inbound the ball, pass to an unguarded player, who dribbles as time expires, sealing the victory -- and the championship.

Towels to their faces, the Amigas slowly gather for a final team huddle.

"Don't feel guilty," Salvador, Cristina's brother, tells the team.

All the Amigas stay in their blue jerseys for the awards ceremony except Ana. She changes into black jeans and a light-blue top.

Ana doesn't join the Amigas as they are awarded their second-place trophy, an elaborate tower of marble and polished wood taller than any of the players.

They gather around the trophy for a photo, and now La Capitan joins them, cracking a smile like the other women.

Then Ana turns to Silvia, a serious look on her face. Win or lose tonight, Silvia has become an integral part of the team -- and a great friend. How can she thank her?

Ana makes a quick decision.

"Llevatelo. Take it," Ana says, gently pushing the trophy towards Silvia.

"Porque? Why?" Silvia asks, surprised.

"Luego hablamos. We'll talk about it later," Ana says -- a simple way of ending Silvia's protest.

Silvia and Ana leave the gym together.

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