Serving Up a Conflict

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The city has promised to add to the number of volleyball courts in local Rogers Park, but it's not always easy to create venues that meet the discriminating standards of the Ecuadorians. Two years ago, when Powderhorn Park in southern Minneapolis, Minn., had crowds of a hundred or so Ecuadorians playing impromptu games on delicate parkland, the city tried to build its way out of the problem. "We put up half a dozen sand courts, but it turns out they like to play on harder surfaces," recalls Elena Gaarder of the Powderhorn Park Neighborhood Association. "Then we cracked down on alcohol in the park. Now nobody shows up." It turns out that ecuavolley without beer is like, well, baseball without beer.

On a recent summer evening, a gathering crowd of hinchas (fans) lined a backyard court across the street from Ward's house in Danbury, swapping jokes in Spanish and cheering on the players. The neighborhood eyesores were in plain sight: the 30-ft. fence around the court, the lights for night games, the overflowing Dumpster out front, the cars parked on the lawn.

On the court, however, it's all about the volleyball. The Ecuadorian variant is played three on three, with a higher net and harder ball, but the competitive spirit is the same. After an hour-long battle, a day laborer named Omar and two brothers nicknamed Los Tigres scratch out a tiebreaker victory. Still flush with success and oblivious to a knee wound he picked up on the hard clay court, Omar sits down and sips on a Gatorade. "Ecuadorian people work hard in this country," he says. "Playing volleyball is just our way of surviving."