It is not a bad start for the 5-months-old team that counts among its growing pains a rift that took with a big chunk of the team's original lineup early in the season. They are reserved and ebullient and urbane, bachelors and family men. What they share in common is being African in America, and a love for a sport that can transcend ethnic, geographic, linguistic, or national differencees and remind them of who they are and where they come from.

            Many are in the prime of high-tech careers disrupted or showed by their journeys across datelines and cultures. Many say it's the struggle of of having come from Africa and building a life from scratch in America that draws them together.
           A Game played since youth, past sometimes marred by war, link soccer players “There is something in common you can’t see straight away, but there is that bond, that African thing” said Lokoko Kitenza, a Congolese engineer who moved to Santa Rosa last year to take up a job at PG&E and joined the team to meet other Africans. “We thought that by using soccer we could get to know each other and build a community, ” said team manager Ibrahim Adamu.
           They are Eritrean and Congolese, Ghanian and Nigerian, Liberian, and Libyan, Kenyan and Somali. Among the dozens of languages English and soccer are two that are held in common. Using soccer as a way to connect, the dynamic and, at times, fractions group has found a way to collapse those differences and find a home away from home. The mix of personalities and cultures was on display at a Sunday last month against Muralla, a Mexican American team named after the wall surrounding the players hometown in San Antonio, Jalisco. Neither team scored in the first half, and as Safari’s players became anxious about losing, the decibel level on and off the field went up s few notches. Alongside the field, players ran up to catch their breaths and greet their wives and children under the shade trees.
           An Eritrean woman with a proud face and slow –booming smile fed a little girl yogurt in between glances to catch the plays. Those on the sidelines fell into a quick, relaxed banter in numerous languages, only to break it off to bellow at teammates whose performances didn’t pass muster. Laughter inevitably followed those emotional outbursts. At times Julius Ujeh, the Nigerian Coach, was beside himself. “Wu, “Wu, You got to cover him” he shouted, running down to the lines and holding out his arms. Long Luu, whom teammates call Wu, is the sole Asian-American player on the team, recruited along with eight others from Oakland, San Francisco, and San Jose to play in Safari’s games.
           Ujeh is a six-foot three-inch tall former professional soccer player who runs a youth academy, Spitfire Soccer Academy, and works a day job selling Kitchen and Bathroom appliances at Home Depot. At half time, he stood before his still-scoreless team and punctuated by the trill of someone’s cell phone deep in a duffle bag, berated them, this time without smiles or laughter. “Lets be honest with ourselves, we played horribly,” he said. “We let that other team into the game” The players went on to score two goals in the second half and win the match. Bond of youth