John Nieman
As I have expressed in this space and pretty much everywhere else, I am greatly concerned about the upcoming World Cup here in the United States. Our president has–with the complicit help of the president of FIFA–assumed control and ownership of this important International event. By the way, this is someone who, if asked to explain the offside rule, would go off on a rant about immigration and tariffs. It has become a great concern of mine.
And so, it is with this background that I was able to experience one of the happiest events of my life last week when Martha and I attended the induction of Kip Ward and Vicky (Ward) Brawley into the North Carolina Soccer Hall of Fame. This was a well-deserved and long overdue honor. Rainbow Soccer was an integral part of my life and the lives of thousands of residents of the greater Chapel Hill area in the 70s and 80s.
Begun by Kip and Vicky in the 70s, along with the help of their good friend Anson Dorrance (you might have heard of him) it was a unique and one of a kind sporting endeavor. And that gives short shrift to the definition of unique and one of a kind.
Although the brainchild of two Division I soccer players and high level accomplished competitive athletes in Kip and Anson, it was based on the idea that soccer was a game to be played. Competition and goal achievement were something to achieve elsewhere. This was a place purely to play. To enjoy the moment of touching the ball and connecting with teammates both on and off the field.
That aura was embodied in Vicky and she was the central force of that continuing spirit throughout her more than 20 years with the program. Kip was the face of the program. Adorned most times with a white fedora and seersucker suit, he would come to practices and games, perform a perfectly-executed rainbow move, and laugh and embrace with all of the participants.
The adult program became a place for both the experienced and the complete novice to bind together in friendship and love of play. Soccer was the vehicle, but the destination was Joy and Fellowship. The number of couples throughout the state, and perhaps throughout the nation—including Martha and me–who can say, “we met through Rainbow” is immeasurable.
On a personal note, Kip and Vicky changed and perhaps saved my life. I had just been unceremoniously booted from the graduate program at the sociology school at UNC because my research was in their words, “too mainstream pop culture.” I had lost my research and teaching positions.
That night, Kip and Vicky asked me if I would be willing to be the director of Rainbow Soccer and Rainbow Soccer Camp for a couple hundred bucks a week. It was over 40 years ago and I still remember every moment of that night.
Rainbow Soccer today is still a wonderful program. It is certainly not the purely Joy of play experience of its inception, but, unfortunately, life has changed. During my time as director I have to admit that I contributed to the evolution—some would say devolution—of the program.
We expanded the Sunset program, an adult, more competitive league, to year round. We initiated what we called the Frostbite League, which competed in the snow and ice, much to the demolition of the poor fields down on Cleland Road. But, as Bluey would say, it was the ‘80s man. People were watching Wall Street and Andrew Dice Clay and were it not for Vicky, Rainbow could have completely evaporated. But thank heavens, we had Vicky.
And so there we were last week initiating her and Kip into the soccer Hall of Fame. Kip has passed and so his initiation was posthumous, but there was Vicky. Amidst her fellow inductees who were all lauded for their championships and accomplishments on the field,
Vicky was there to talk about the wonderment of human interaction and love on the field of play. There were so many Rainbow Soccer folks in attendance. Of course, Anson was there as were former professional soccer players, many of the original players, four or five former inductees, all of whom were Rainbow alumni.
As she stood there with John Scott, one of those Originals and a driving force behind the induction, having her picture taken for posterity, I was wiping away tears of joy for her and remembrance of what was.
If nothing else, it gives me hope that we can overcome the madness within which we now find ourselves.
Of course, I can also console myself with the knowledge that the Fat Boy Index is 255.