When Puerto Rico Smashes Portugal - Jay Summers... -

“They’re playing… differently,” whispered the Portuguese goalkeeper, Diogo Costa, his voice hollow. “Not dirty. Just… faster. As if the ball is personal.”

And somewhere in the stands, an eight-year-old girl held her father’s hand and whispered, “Papi, I want to play for them .”

“With respect, sir,” he said softly. “We don’t deserve anything. We took it.” When Puerto Rico Smashes Portugal - Jay Summers...

In the 77th minute, Portugal finally scored. A consolation header from a corner. A polite, European goal.

In the 88th minute, Puerto Rico answered. Javi Soto, limping now from a cramp, received the ball at the top of the box. Three Portuguese defenders surrounded him. He didn’t pass. He didn’t shoot. He laughed – a loud, clear, joyful laugh that echoed through the stadium – then back-heeled the ball through the legs of the defender behind him, spun, and volleyed it into the far corner. As if the ball is personal

“Mija,” he said. “You already are.”

La Sombra was five-foot-five, 140 pounds, and had been rejected by the Philadelphia Union’s academy for being “too small.” He cut inside, faked a shot, nutmegged the Portuguese right-back, and chipped the goalkeeper from twenty yards. A consolation header from a corner

The coach, a fired MLS assistant named Carlos Rivera, tapped a whiteboard. On it, he had drawn a single word: Hunger.

Her father, who had never seen a Puerto Rican team win anything in his life, wiped his eyes and nodded.

“You see their faces, huh?” Javi shouted over the music, sweat dripping from his cornrowed hair. “They don’t know what hit them. Because they never watched us. They never thought they had to.”