Courtesy of Madison Bowden
BEEP BEEP BEEP. You jolt awake, keenly aware of your surroundings. As you roll over to your left, memories from the last 24 hours wash over you. You remember setting this alarm only six hours ago, anticipating the early morning.
Swiping away the alarm, you pick up your phone, only to realize that you have no notifications—no one is up at this hour. Your eyes flutter, your body fighting for sleep in a battle it can only wish to win. You push off your pillow to sit upright, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open once and for all. Your body loses the fight; you win. You swing your legs out of the warm comforter that you feel you had just gotten into only moments ago. 4 a.m. has come all too fast.
The soles of your feet dance in the moonlit room as you find your slippers in the darkness, scattered from the lively night before. Feet firmly planted to the ground, you push off from the warmth of the familiar bed and shuffle blindly to your small suitcase, where muted colors flood your eyes as if they are stirring from their slumber too. Your vibrant uniform is patiently waiting for the day to begin, and you exhale, smiling, knowing this will be a day worth remembering.
You are a Sport Management student working the FIFA World Cup, and this is your first volunteer shift at Atlanta Stadium.
Fighting the last of your sleepiness, you shuffle into the kitchen. Groceries line the counter, only half sorted from yesterday’s delivery order, and you fumble through the packaged goods for something sufficient. Your fingers find a banana muffin, and you open the fridge to grab a handful of grapes. Twenty minutes later, you’re ready to walk out the door.
Dr. Kourmoulis drives; you film content. The streets are barren, the only noise coming from cars rolling in the distance. It’s a mundane Monday, you realize, but not for you and your classmates. You discuss the exciting day ahead with your professor, and you marvel at the jaw- dropping numbers of sports fans that will flood every inch of the stadium today for the Spain vs. Cabo Verde match.
Shuffling through the security gates at the Marta train station, you hold your breath, realizing too late that the soiled staircase has already flooded your senses, and you’re grateful that you already had something to eat.
You catch the 4:45 train. The platform is otherwise barren, and you and Dr. Kourmoulis find adjacent seats near the back of the car. You and your professor get to the stadium before the other volunteers, as your role requires you to facilitate the other volunteers and their needs. The few other passengers accompanying you in the journey stand idly by as the Marta doors hiss to a close.
Arriving at the stadium a little past 5 a.m., you navigate through security and cross the illuminated skybridge. Mercedes-Benz Stadium has magically transformed into Atlanta Stadium for the duration of the event. The whole venue glows as steady streams of diligent workers productively promenade and faithful fans anticipate the match in vivid dreams from undisturbed hotel rooms.
Smiling with your professor, you navigate through the concrete hall to find your volunteer check-in center. Amidst the silent chaos, the early alarm, and first day anxieties, you realize that this—being in fellowship with other image bearers in an overwhelmingly secular profession—is how you want to spend your Monday mornings for the rest of your life.