Outcasts United: Introduction Summary & Analysis

On a cool spring afternoon on a soccer field in Clarkston, Georgia, two teams of teenage boys are warming up. When a squadron of fighter jets passes by overhead on its way to Atlanta, the boys stop and look up. One team, from the North Atlanta Soccer Association, looks up at the planes in awe. The other team, a group of refugees on a team called the Fugees, flinch as they watch the planes. Many of them saw fighter jets in action in their home countries and watched bombs take out their neighborhoods.

From the sidelines, thirty-one-year-old Luma al-Mufleh, the coach of the Fugees, tells them to concentrate, emphasizing that they need to take more accurate shots in order to score. The boys gather around her. On the other side of the field, about forty parents are there to watch the boys play. None came to support the Fugees, as many are from single parent homes and need to look after other children or work, and few have cars to travel.

A few minutes later, the whistle sounds to begin the game. Luma sits silently, allowing the boys to play for themselves. The other coach, however, shouts at the field, jumping up and down as the action unfolds. North Atlanta scores first and Luma continues to quietly pace. But a few moments later, Christian Jackson of the Fugees breaks forward and scores. Luma doesn’t react.

The North Atlanta coach continues to shout, while Luma continues to pace, watching many of the Fugees’ shots sail over the goal. At halftime, the Fugees lead 3-1, but Luma isn’t happy that they’ve made very few of the shots that they’ve taken. She tells the team that she wants the other team’s coach to sit down and be quiet—that’s when they will know that they’ve truly won.

In the second half, the Fugees quickly score three goals: one from a Sudanese boy named Attak and two others from Christian. The Fugees continue to shoot; the other team starts to “[hack] away at the Fugees’ shins and ankles,” but the Fugees refuse to retaliate. At 8-2, the North Atlanta coach sits down. The boys try to hide their smiles. The game ends at 9-2. The teams shake hands, and the referee approaches the Fugees. He commends them on their sportsmanship and compliments them on “one of the most beautiful games of soccer” he’d ever seen.

This is the first time that St. John sees the Fugees play. He knows little about the team other than that the boys are refugees, and that the team is coached by a woman. He soon learns that Clarkston had become one of the most diverse communities in America in little more than a decade. He notices a “sense of trust and friendship between the players and their coach,” but there is also “tension and long silences.”

St. John realizes in hindsight that the team is very fragile, even at this moment. The Fugees have no home field. The players are struggling to stay afloat, having fled violence in their home countries only to find a place with a completely different set of values and customs. Luma is also struggling to help them as much as she can. But more than anything, it is the “surprising friendship of these kids from different cultures, religions, and backgrounds” that amazes St. John.

One player on the Fugees is not quite as good as his teammates: a tiny boy from Afghanistan named Zubaid, who may be farsighted. He often misses the ball when he tries to kick it. Luma proudly explains to St. John that Zubaid had never missed a practice or tutoring session that Luma ran—he is on the field because he deserves to be. His teammates always cover for him, but at one point in the game against North Atlanta, Zubaid was able to intercept the ball from an opposing player and pass it to a teammate. At the next lull in action, the other Fugees cheered him on as though he had scored the winning goal.