(Kreyòl translation coming soon)

We asked a Florian for a quote on Haiti's qualification. He sent back an essay. This is the companion to "Dancing in the Shadows", where his words first appear.

When you really think about it, how else and when else were we going to do it if not on a date as symbolic as 18 Novanm? 

This World Cup and Haiti's qualification to it have been a study on the idea that "we can't have nice things."

I remember back in 2018 when I first heard that the World Cup would be a co-hosted affair among MX-US-CA and would feature an expanded format with more teams. One of my first thoughts was, "Oh shit. Haiti might actually qualify for this," thanks to the three additional Concacaf slots that opened up because host countries didn't need to qualify. A lot has happened in the world since 2018, so it wasn't something I dwelled on very much.

But at some point, in mid 2025, it started to look like our path to qualification was actually feasible. The squad we had, the results we had obtained, and the results we needed were all painting a pretty favorable picture. It went from being a pipe dream to something we could reasonably achieve. In July, I paid close attention, and by September, I got excited.

In September, Haiti drew 3-3 with Costa Rica in World Cup qualifiers, and suddenly it started to look like anything was possible. As a squad that has successfully qualified for the World Cup multiple times, Costa Rica is one of the bigger fish in the region, and on paper, was our toughest opponent. A 3-3 draw against them was a hopeful result that put us in a good position. However, a 3-0 defeat to Honduras brought Haitian fans back down to earth fast. Even so, something felt different about this moment compared to all the other times I'd hoped Haiti would do something and was disappointed. Our destiny was still firmly in our own hands, and we didn't need to hope for complicated math or an improbable series of results; we just had to go and get it. And go and get it, we did.

With the prerequisite flair, drama, and "sens de l'histoire" that such an occasion demanded. When you really think about it, how else and when else were we going to do it if not on a date as symbolic as 18 Novanm? We ARE the story, we ARE the drama. As a lifelong football fan, I'm very familiar with drama. I'm all too well acquainted with last-minute twists, both good and bad. But up until this point, these moments had been provided by my club teams or whatever other national team had garnered my sympathy for the moment.

Undoubtedly, there have been other special times. Watching Messi lift the World Cup remains a top-five moment in my football fan life. But this one was definitely different, getting that moment of joy from your national team, and getting to share it with compatriots has a different flavor, yon ti gou lakay. And to put icing on top of an already decadent cake, we end up in the same group as Brazil. The football gods saw fit to treat the Haitian football fan in every way possible.

But of course, we can't have nice things. Or rather, nice things must come with strings attached. So the most exciting moment in our sporting history in a really long time would of course coincide with some of the toughest times we've had to face as a nation. Much has been written about the unique fact that we are participating in this World Cup as the only country not to have played a single game at home. When you looked all over social media, you saw the celebrations different countries around the world got to have with their national teams when they secured their qualifications. We saw the send-offs the teams received, we saw stadiums packed to the brim, and skies lit with fireworks. We saw the Brazilian national team's airplane get "baptized" before the team's departure. Unfortunately, we didn't get to have any of that. And while, thanks to social media, we were able to let our players know how loved and supported they are, those wonderful moments of communion between the people and their team that we didn't get to share put a damper on what should've been moments of unbridled joy.

Beyond the situation at home, the broader geopolitical context in which this World Cup is taking place leaves us with much to consider. Although the tournament is officially co-hosted by three nations, the bulk of the games are taking place in the US, where the government has been the most bellicose, anti-Haitian, anti-foreigner, and generally opposed to the spirit of the game we've ever seen. The hostile crackdown on immigration in the years leading up to the competition could help us anticipate the overall ambiance. As the Haitian saying goes, "se lavèy fèt pou wè si fèt ap bèl", it's on the eve of a party that you know if it will be a good party. And all the signs were there for those willing to see. But even the most cynical among us couldn't have predicted the full extent of the cruelty. From denying visas to fans, staff, and players of qualified teams to refusing entry to FIFA-appointed referees at the border, it seems that nothing is off-limits.

For many years now, football fans have complained that the game we love has become a vehicle for unsavory characters and governments of all kinds to launder their image, a phenomenon commonly known as "sportswashing."

For many years now, football fans have complained that the game we love has become a vehicle for unsavory characters and governments of all kinds to launder their image, a phenomenon commonly known as "sportswashing." We saw it with previous editions of the World Cup, notably in Russia and Qatar, and to a lesser extent in South Africa and Brazil. There's usually this unspoken agreement between the host country, FIFA, and the rest of the world that while your affairs may not be in order, for the duration of the competition, there should at least be the pretense that all is well and that we can allow ourselves to be blissfully swept away by the magic of the sport. But this time around, there are no attempts to sugarcoat things or hide the ugly parts. To make matters worse, FIFA, as an organizing body and a steward of the game, has essentially abdicated its role in overseeing and ensuring the proper unfolding of the proceedings. Their boundless greed seems to be equaled only by their cowardice and amorality. Under the false pretense of not wanting to meddle in politics, they've been happy to sit on their hands as the US has been making a mockery of the spirit of the tournament and of their own bylaws. But they had no such reservations about issuing a last-minute statement demanding the Haitian national team modify their jerseys on the eve of the tournament, the reason given being that a motif on the jersey depicting the Bataille de Vertières was deemed too political and ran against the rules they seemed to have suddenly remembered how to enforce.

If there's one thing this silly, stupid, horrible yet wonderful sport that is football does well, it's that it keeps you shamelessly coming back. It deals out ecstasy and misery at random and leaves you asking for more. Such is life and such is football. The great Liverpool coach Bill Shankly once said, "Some people think football is a matter of life and death, I assure you it is much more serious than that." And because it is that serious, it is important that we be there, to celebrate, to cheer, to cry, and to share in these fleeting moments of joy that are being made ever harder to come by.