How One Equipment Drive Sparked Something Bigger

It started with a memory.

A scuffed-up ball. A pair of second-hand cleats. And a young boy who couldn’t afford much, but found freedom, joy, and purpose on a gravel field behind the apartment blocks.

That boy was me – Brian Wong.

Decades later, as the founder of FeverSports Media & Education Society, I returned to that moment not with nostalgia, but with a sense of duty. This spring, FeverSports launched our first-ever equipment drive — a grassroots initiative to collect gently used and new soccer gear for newcomer children in Calgary. We partnered with Calgary Newcomers Guide, a vibrant nonprofit led by Tinsae Kebie, a former newcomer himself who understands, in every fibre of his story, what it means to arrive in a new country with big dreams and very little else.

We didn’t have a massive budget. No glossy campaign. Just a belief that when we give children a chance to play, we give them something far greater than a jersey or a pair of cleats — we give them belonging.

From Memory to Mission

In the early days of FeverSports, we knew our power wasn’t just in organizing sports or producing content — it was in storytelling and education. But stories mean little without action. When Tinsae and I first spoke, his story resonated with mine, trying to create impact while navigating the new world. Tinsae, who came to Canada when he was young, was raised by a single mother, struggling to fit in, but finding a lifeline in sports. For him, soccer was the reason he stayed in school. For me, it was a reason to believe in community.

Together, we collaborated to do a campaign not just to gather equipment but to amplify the deeper value of sport — its ability to include, to empower, and to uplift.

We called on our network. We posted flyers. We tapped into school newsletters, community partners, and online forums. Within weeks, cleats, balls, shin guards, and jerseys started trickling in — some from families whose kids had outgrown their gear, others from coaches with boxes of forgotten equipment in their garages.

Every item told its own story. A name faded from a jersey. A ball signed by teammates. A pair of tiny pink cleats with grass still stuck to the soles. These weren’t just donations — they were inheritances.

The Kids Who Run Toward Joy

Tinsae did the heavy lifting: On the day of the first distribution, the air inside the Genesis Centre gym buzzed with energy. Some kids stood shyly behind their parents. Others bolted for the nets, skipping over the gym floor like it was a playground built just for them. There was no need for language. Just the sound of rubber soles, the pop of a ball against a wall, and the joy of being included.

Many of these children, between the ages of four and fifteen, had never played on an organized team. For their families — mostly newcomers from Ethiopia, Syria, Ukraine, Afghanistan, and beyond — barriers like cost, transit access, and program awareness had kept them on the sidelines. But that day, for the first time, they had a jersey that fit. A coach who called them by name. A safe place to play.

What we saw wasn’t just participation. It was pride.

Parents mingled in the adjacent boardroom space, exchanging stories in English, Arabic, Tigrinya, and Mandarin. Some practiced their language skills. Others just exhaled — visibly relieved that their children had found something joyful to do after school.

When the Past Becomes a Platform

For Tinsae, this wasn’t just a one-off event. It was a continuation of the work he’s been doing since founding Calgary Newcomers Guide — connecting families to services, creating culturally relevant programs, and giving dignity to people who often feel invisible. When he talks about his mother — a single parent juggling ESL classes and survival jobs — his voice softens, but his conviction hardens.

“We always talk about the kids,” he told me. “But the parents? They’re heroes too. They just need support systems that see them.”

As we plan our next drive, we dream bigger. More gear. More locations. More volunteers. And maybe one day, a FeverSports mini-league where newcomer kids from across Calgary play under the lights and feel — if only for an hour — that the world is wide open to them.

A Final Word

If you’ve ever wondered what one ball can do, here’s your answer: it can carry the dreams of a child who’s never known a team. It can bridge the silence between cultures. It can change a life — because someone like you decided to give it away.

We are FeverSports. This is our gift — tell stories, raise awareness, and take action.

And this is only the beginning.