Seth Reeves, possibly the fastest player on the pitch, broke free of defenders and streaked toward the goal.
Maintaining command of the ball on his foot, he lined up the shot and kicked. It was a perfect strike. The ball sailed into the back of the net, and the crowd reacted — in varying ways.
The hearing cheered and clapped. The deaf also cheered, but rather than clapping, they waved their hands.
“Obviously, the players can’t hear clapping, so they wave their hands in the air because it’s more visible,” explained Dr. Steven Farmer, COO of the Western Pennsylvania School for the Deaf. “The players jump and scream, they clap, high-five, hug each other. So it’s about the same” as when a child who can hear scores a goal.
Farmer spoke — in American Sign Language — on the sidelines of the Edgewood school’s soccer field Friday, during the first day of a weekend tournament for the Eastern Schools for the Deaf Athletic Association.
Six teams competed: The WPSD, the New York School for the Deaf, the Ohio School for the Deaf, the American School for the Deaf in Connecticut, the Lexington School for the Deaf in New York and the Marie Philip School in Massachusetts.
“One really nice thing about this is that after the competition, they make new friends and they see their old friends from last year,” Farmer signed. “It’s an outstanding time for the kids to come and compete and also make new friends afterward.”
Reeves, a senior at the WPSD, gave the host team a 1-0 lead on its way to a 2-0 victory.
WPSD won the championship.
Though the players are deaf, there were few obvious signs that the games played here this weekend were different than any other.
Before the game, the teams gathered in a huddle while the coach gave a pep talk.
“The time is here!” WPSD’s athletic director and soccer coach, Valentine Wojton III, signed to his players. “And right now, our ship is still sailing because we haven’t lost to any deaf school this year. So this tournament is critical. You want the title? Keep the ship afloat by winning!”
The players put their hands in the middle and shouted in unison. They took the field, and the game began. Just like any other game.
One of the few differences is that the players can’t hear the whistle, “so sometimes the refs and the kids have to get each others’ attention to say stop,” Farmer said. “But that’s about it.”
The referees are not deaf, so they receive training. They use traditional soccer signage to announce calls. If a decision must be explained, an ASL translator waits on the sideline.
Another difference, Wojton said, is that deaf coaches struggle to get their players’ attention at times.
“Maybe the hearing coaches would say the same thing,” he said. “Sometimes I have a hard time communicating with them because” — he turned his head, showing how easy it is for a deaf player to ignore the coach — “they just don’t look! When they’re hearing, the coach can scream and the player hears it. Not our kids.”
For the players, the tournament is an opportunity to feel like any other kid.
“He gets so excited for this,” said Lavonne Pitts-Harding, 35, of East Liberty, motioning to her son, Antoine Hunter Jr., a tall defenseman for WPSD. “He trains, he drinks a lot of water. He’s really dedicated. He likes the competition, and being able to use his feet and legs.”
Conditions were not ideal: Steady rain left the field muddy in some spots and covered in standing water in others.
But no one complained.
“Everyone looks forward to a deaf tournament because they know the social interaction is going to be there,” Wojton said. “Of course, if they lose, they’ll be upset. They still desire the title. But after the game, there’s a ton of camaraderie. “Win or lose, there are guaranteed smiles.”
Chris Togneri is a Tribune-Review staff writer. Reach him at 412-380-5632 or ctogneri@tribweb.com.
Source: Triblive.com