Wright Thompson: COPIAPO, Chile -- On the eve of the biggest soccer game in the history of this remote desert town, the team knelt in prayer. The Regional Atacama players were one win from a championship and a promotion to the first division of Chilean soccer. The blue-collar mining community felt reborn. So, together in their locker room, they asked the local patron saint for help: Please let us do this, for the people, for each other. They promised to visit the saint's roadside shrine after the game to give thanks. A few miles outside of Copiapo, built into a steep wall of rock, the place was an outdoor chapel where candles burned in wrought iron grates.
When the game ended, when Atacama had won, the players didn't even take off their uniforms. They ran from the stadium, up to Route 5, headed to the shrine. The whole team, Franklin and Diego, Mario and Ramon, all of them. They were young and strong. Their lungs filled with summer air, and a hundred or so fans gathered behind them, caught up in the joy. Everyone ran, shouting out praise, for five miles. The throng followed Atacama's powerful midfielder, the fastest player, the man who had scored the first goal in the team's history.
Everyone ran behind Franklin Lobos.




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