Perhaps it was the fact that I’d played collegiate soccer decades ago. Or maybe it was because I’d lost my grandma in 2021 and wished nothing more than to connect with her again. Whatever the cause, the moment I laid eyes on Jean Duffy’s book, I grabbed it and wouldn’t let it go. The cover, showing five elderly African women looking stern and determined, dressed in bright shirts, skirts, and tennis shoes, spoke volumes. In her new memoir Soccer Grannies, Duffy follows the stories of several South African Black women and their desire to live life through their country’s national pastime: soccer. Through these inspiring African women, the author reveals the painful past of apartheid; cultural pressures and gender disparities; and the fight to overcome ailments, aging, and adversity.

Duffy is a white woman in her mid-forties working a full-time job and playing soccer for comradery (and sanity) in Massachusetts.  She plays for the Lexpressas, an adult soccer team that is central to her life and this story. In a Musing Publication article titled “Jean, the Soccer Freak,” she writes, “No matter what was going on in my life, for that hour I focused on chasing the ball and forgot about everything else . . . More than just a game, soccer has become a caring community.” When a friend on the team passes her an article about Beka Ntsanwisi—the “Mother Theresa of Limpopo”—and a group of South African grandmothers playing soccer for friendship and health, she becomes hooked. Beka, a South African woman with a significant medical condition and a passion for service to others, is the brawn and brains behind the Grannies team, stopping at nothing to change these elderly women’s lives. Duffy writes, “For me, it came down to some uncharacteristic procrastinating at the start of a workday: I couldn’t know it then, but that morning my carefully charted path veered upon a seemingly chance encounter with a group of older women playing recreational soccer halfway around the world.”

Duffy braids personal stories and accounts of South African history throughout her chronological memoir. Her book moves through three parts: from the creation of the soccer Grannies team, to the Grannies playing a tournament in the United States, to the Grannies’ status and notoriety having positively affected people on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean in the present day. Throughout the story, Duffy plays, plans, and supports Beka and the Grannies through logistical coordination, encouragement, and as a friend and confidant critical to their inaugural soccer trip to the United States. She forms a bond with many of the players, and the genuine nature of the relationship is both refreshing and delightful, as it seems to transcend age, race, and social status.

In an interview with Women Writers, Women’s Books, Duffy states, “In my mid-50s, I set aside my full-time engineering career and took a first creative writing class. I had never written anything other than emails and technical reports. I embarked on research to learn more about the history of South Africa and the societal and political pressures influencing the lives of these women.” Her excitement to tell the story is apparent in her writing. Duffy’s informal, chat-over-coffee approach makes me feel as though I’ve known her characters for years. At the same time, she does not shy away from difficult topics such as death, domestic violence, and HIV/AIDS, giving these words meaning through personal connection.

The history Duffy interweaves throughout her book offers context and understanding for the reasons the Grannies play soccer despite their being told by family members that they don’t belong in their villages. She integrates in-depth profile stories of many of the Grannies, giving the reader a peek into the world of a Black woman in South Africa. These stories are painful at times, leaving the reader angry and frustrated but rooting for the Grannies at every flip of the page. It is heartwarming one moment and heart-wrenching the next.

This is also a book about aging, exploring the physical aspects of getting older and the elusive effort to slow down its effects. Duffy writes in a short article for WBUR’s Cognoscenti that “playing lowered [the Grannies’] blood pressure and improved their cholesterol. Pain receded, and their range of movement increased. Soccer has no age limit.” Her book also illustrates the social dangers of becoming elderly in rural South Africa. Duffy takes us into a world where witchcraft and ailments go hand-in-hand, especially for elderly Black women. Cognitive decline is often interpreted as a sign of witchcraft or bad omens in small villages. Through Beka, we learn of this fear and the threat faced by the elderly when disease gets mistaken for evil incarnations.

Poverty, fear, disease, and societal indifference to the plight of these women makes it hard to believe a Grannies soccer team exists. Yet, they don’t just exist. They thrive, inspiring the rise of several elderly women’s teams in the region and spotlighting age, health, and sports at an international level. The women at the heart of this story face social pressures, deteriorating bodies, financial challenges, and still find a way to prove that women can play sports at any age and find joy and companionship in the pursuit. No matter who you are, you’ll be celebrating these grannies by the time the final page is turned. Duffy makes sure of it.