Home 2008/09 – Joma
The Country
If the Central American nations were a neighbourhood watch committee, Honduras would be the group’s aspiring vigilante, a reactionary individual who hands out loaded shotguns at the coffee and cake meetings and who wouldn’t hesitate to give Enrique from number 82 both barrels should he fail to return a borrowed hedge strimmer in a manner deemed timely. Put bluntly, they’re a trigger happy bunch. In fact, as of 2019 the country has the world’s highest homicide rate (90 per 100,000 people), a vast majority of which are committed using firearms. So remember folks, guns don’t kill people, Hondurans kill people. Hondurans who have guns, specifically.
Perhaps surprisingly given how readily they expel one another from this mortal coil, Honduras generally gets on well with its neighbour nations. Their only major beef has historically been with El Salvador, against whom they fought the short but fierce 1969 “Football War”, a conflict sparked in part by a series of tempestuous World Cup qualifying matches*, and which sent over 2,000 Hondurans to a (slightly) premature grave. Relations are mercifully more cordial today as both countries attempt to paint a picture of Central American brotherhood and solidarity, although considering El Salvador’s murder levels are roughly on par with those of Honduras, it’s fair to say this present chumminess is not their most natural look.
*El Salvador won the decisive play off tie 3-2 to knock Honduras out of the competition. For further insight into the subsequent Football War, I’d recommend John Spurling’s excellent book ‘Death Or Glory, The Dark History Of The World Cup’.
In terms of tourism, Honduras remains amongst the least traipsed countries in the Americas. Visitor numbers are steadily on the rise, however, mostly consisting of travel hipsters, backpackers and grieving relatives flown out to formally identify said hipsters and backpackers. Of growing interest is the small town of Yoro; annual host to the “Lluvia de peces” (rain of fish) weather phenomenon in which thousands of live fish are said to plummet headfirst from the stormy skies, bringing with them all the pungent messiness that such an event entails. As a predominantly Catholic people, the locals see the event as a gift from god, Hondurans being notoriously difficult to buy for. However scientists are more sceptical, theorising that the fish are actually being expelled up through drains from swollen underground rivers rather than sent from the heavens via divine hand. Rude. Just because THEY don’t have a god to give them free stuff.
The National Team
As you might expect from a country that literally went to war over the sport, Hondurans are very passionate about their football, albeit in the manner of a supporter who you would change your season ticket to avoid sitting near. The national side’s playing style could diplomatically be described as “robust” – and more accurately as “GBH” – often as compensation for glaring technical deficiencies, a trait best exemplified by former Stoke and Spurs midfielder Wilson Palacios, whose commitment was seldom in question but whose second touch was usually a sliding tackle. So far this approach has yielded Honduras three World Cup appearances; their most noteworthy performances coming on their debut in 1982, where they nabbed 1-1 draws against Northern Ireland and hosts Spain before a 1-0 loss to Yugoslavia eased them from the tournament, reputation very much enhanced. More recent campaigns at South Africa 2010 and Brazil 2014 proved less productive, with just one point and one goal across six matches, and “Los Catrachos” remain winless at the finals, a statistic that seems unlikely to be rectified in the future once VAR becomes acquainted with what passes for a Honduran attempt to play the ball.
One tournament where Honduras did taste victory was at the 2001 Copa America. Invited as last minute guests* and widely dismissed as cannon fodder, the Hondurans not only defeated both Bolivia and Uruguay during the group stages, but went on to stun Brazil 2-0 in the quarter-finals. Naturally, such shenanigans couldn’t be tolerated. Following their eventual ousting against hosts Colombia in the semis – although they still possessed sufficient cheek to win the third place match – Honduras haven’t been allowed near a Copa since. Instead, CONMEBOL have begun to rope in more cooperative nations such as Qatar, who on paper (a map, specifically) belong nowhere near the South American championship**, but who are less likely to brazenly go around eliminating teams who are better for the TV ratings.
*As in they were literally drafted in one day before the competition started after Argentina withdrew citing safety concerns. The squad even had to charter a Colombian military jet to ensure they arrived on time.
**Unless of course you manage to fish out their players’ birth certificates.
The Shirt
This one’s a real beauty. Any shirt based around a national flag is fine and dandy with me, and Joma have certainly managed to cram all the Honduras they could into one piece of polyester. I requested this shirt for Christmas in 2008 after guessing – accurately as it turned out – that the Hondurans were just about ready for a second World Cup appearance. Eighteen months later, and with South Africa 2010 in full swing, I occasionally wore it to work, prompting colleagues to comment how nice it was of me to show my support for an “African nation at an African World Cup”. Geography is not my colleagues’ strong suit.
Unfortunately, by the time said finals rolled around the Hondurans were sporting a rather more sedate outfit after some killjoy at Joma decided it would be preferable the players didn’t resemble a prototype Uncle Sam on a fun run. Their designers also opted to switch up the colour scheme at this juncture, relegating blue and white stripes to third choice behind an all white home kit and a blue change strip, thus completely defeating the purpose of having a third kit in the first place. Well done, everybody. Pay cuts all round.
