A year ago Miguel Aguilar had just seen a dream come true.



After overcoming huge obstacles he was a professional footballer, picked in the first round of the MLS draft by DC United.

Twelve months on, with the US presidential race in full swing, he is one of the most politically significant sportspeople in the USA.

The 22-year-old is a rarely gifted player; an intelligent, two-footed, lightening streak attacker of devilish precision and deceptive strength. He enjoyed a quietly promising first professional season.

But the primary focus in his short career has been on his life story rather than his footballing ability.

And why wouldn’t it be?

Aguilar’s history strikes to the heart of the American dream. It is an epic cross-border tale of migration, citizenship, isolation, struggle, guidance and resurrection.

But as he revealed in a recent telephone interview his story begins a long way away from Washington DC.

Aguilar was born in 1993 in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. At the time, a brutal battle between the Juarez and Sinaloa cartels was earning the city the horrendous epithet of the murder capital of the world.

It was against the backdrop of drugs, guns, cartels and murder that he first kicked a football.

“I don’t think I am ever going to forget growing up on those fields behind my house. That is where my love for the sport started,” he says.

He was an instant phenom. The older kids in the neighborhood would always want him on their side. Soccer was all he thought about but slowly his eyes opened up to the world surrounding him.

“I lied about my age so I could join a team,” he recalls. “When I was seven I said that I was nine. At first I was more concerned about playing, going to school, that’s it. But as I got older I started to notice things that were going on around me.”

Juarez was self-destructing, an increasingly violent gang war spiraling out of control. The city and its families were being torn apart by drugs and violence. It was not a safe place to be.

“One of my uncles got involved in a lot of the bad stuff that was going on. He kind of just fell off the face of the planet. There were a couple of kidnapping attempts on my sister and my mom was like: “We have to get out of here.”

Juarez couldn’t be any closer to the US. Its cheek is pressed hungrily against the border, with only the Rio Bravo river separating them. Aguilar could see America from the dusty fields where he played. If a north wind blew south he could practically smell what was for dinner in El Paso, Texas. But the soccer-obsessed youngster had no idea that his future lay in the USA.

“I literally lived on the border; I could walk over to the river that divides Mexico and the US, I was a highway away from it. I just had to cross the street. So definitely I was aware and yet I didn’t know how different of a world it was just across. But now I realize.”

He won’t forget the day he left Mexico – it was his 11th birthday and his world was about to change forever. Aguilar and his brother were driven 1,200 miles in their grandfather’s truck. His mother and sister made the same journey by plane and they were reunited in Sacramento, California.

Life was anything but easy for the family. The shadow of violence had gone but as undocumented migrants, deportation was now a constant fear. Aguilar, who didn’t speak English, struggled to adapt to his new environment. The food was strange and worse, he couldn’t find a team to play football with.

“It took a while,” he laughs. “Because back then soccer wasn’t as big as it is now. I think I went a year without playing and I got a little chubby - I went crazy on the burgers. I was surprised with the cafeteria food they give you like a slice of pizza or a corn dog. In Mexico you bring your own food.”

Culture shock hit the young Aguilar hard. He was often home alone while his mother and siblings worked all hours to make ends meet. The family moved house regularly and were constantly uprooting.

Increasingly lonely and despondent, Aguilar sometimes cut school. His one constant companion was a soccer ball; he would dribble around the empty house or kick monotonously against a wall, perfecting his two-footed technique.

After a year a Mexican schoolmate asked Aguilar to join a team coached by his father. This was little more than park football, the standard way below anything he was used to in Juarez, but things started looking up. He was playing again.

“It was really easy at first. After a year of not playing I was already one of the best players on our team, if not the best player. But then I kept getting invited to play at different tournaments and the competition got tougher,” he says.

“It was very different to over there [in Mexico]. Kids in the US are not as invested into soccer. They do basketball at school and they do track and field or whatever but in Mexico you play soccer and that is all you do every day.”

It is here Aguilar’s story buffets the problems that beset the US soccer system. The predominantly suburban nature of the American grassroots denies kids from certain backgrounds access to the best facilities and coaches. The pay-to-play model that persists in many areas means that opportunities are not universal in the land of the free. Some kids are literally priced out of the game. Aguilar’s ability could easily have been lost. What about those who are left behind?

After emerging from hibernation, Aguilar’s soccer prowess was about to introduce him to someone who would change the course of his life fundamentally. At 15 he tried out for a local side coached by Tibor Pelle, a former USA Under-20 international, noted youth coach and all-around soccer sage.

At the trial, against players two or three years his senior, Aguilar immediately stood out. The child who grew up playing with the big kids looked like a man against boys. Pelle recognised a unique talent in need of careful nurture. A special bond was formed and a mixture of coaching, guidance and love saw ability that had nearly faded away blossom incredibly.

“He changed my life for sure. From the moment I went to play for him he did nothing but help me. Whether it was academically or anything. He would invite me over so I wouldn’t be by myself at home,” Aguilar says.

“I can say he is probably the one coach that every time he spoke it just got me. I have never met someone who is willing to help other people, really go out of their way to help other people, as much as he does and his family.”

Aguilar thrived under Pelle’s tutelage, his football ability was already phenomenal but he became a gifted scholar as well. By the time he graduated high school, the first member of his family to do so, he was a straight A student.

Aguilar went to the University of San Francisco on a full scholarship. Again he shone, both on the pitch and in the classroom. He received individual playing awards and graduated early with a degree in finance. The transformation since his arrival in the US in 2004 was incredible.

Throughout college there had been worries that Aguilar’s past might catch up with him. Would he be able to play matches in Canada for example? Assurances were sort and precautions taken. San Francisco’s ‘Sanctuary City’ status might have provided some small psychological comfort but still uncertainty lingered.

Then, in 2012, the Obama administration pushed through some transformative legislation. The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) allowed certain undocumented immigrants who had arrived in the US before the age of 16 to obtain a renewable two-year work permit. Aguilar was now a legal alien.

In his final year at college he played eight times for the Portland Timbers’ Under-23 team. He graduated USF as one of the best young players on the West Coast and left the 2015 MLS Combine trials as one of the most talked-about youngsters in the country after some hugely impressive performances.

“There was a lot of guys who were just dribbling, dribbling, dribbling, whenever they got the ball. If you can dribble that’s great but there are other things you need to show you can do. I just tried to switch it up.”

Before the January 2015 draft, there was no consensus on where Aguilar might be selected. Some put him in the first round and the Seattle Sounders were rumored to be keen. So when DC United made him the 17th overall pick there was some surprise, and absolute pandemonium in the Aguilar household.

“It was just one of the happiest days of my life. It is hard to describe. I was on the phone and everyone is just freaking out, it was really hectic but also amazing,” he says.

Aguilar scored a fantastic goal in one of his first games for the club, against Austin Astex in February, and has carried that confidence forward. He has handled the step up to the professional level comfortably.

“It is a big difference between college and the pros,” he says. “The speed of play, the physicality and just that every player is a lot smarter than back in college. It is the little habits that really make the difference. A lot of guys at the college level they have a lot of skill but they don’t have those habits that separate a professional player. So I just worked on picking up as many of those habits as I could.”

The more challenging moments have come off the field. After a Concacaf Champions League game in Costa Rica, Aguilar, who carries a Mexican passport with his US work permit, was detained by customs officials in Miami. The rest of the squad flew on to Washington while a team administrator waited with him.

“That was probably one of the worst experiences I have had to go through. I was stuck at customs for three hours,” he says. Aguilar is the first elite-level athlete in the US to benefit from the DACA legislation. Even though he has lived the majority of his life in America he is still counted as one of his club’s foreign players. He can work in the US but not yet call it home officially.

Aguilar missed a couple of games as his work permit was renewed early in the season and has grown used to the frustration that his visa status presents.

“I’ve always had to “deal” with it. So I am used to it and I have learned to just kind of embrace it. Instead of have it hinder me I try to use it to my advantage. I wouldn’t say I get angry, but upset at times, just certain things I wish I could do or certain things I wish I didn’t have to do or go through. It is what is, I can’t do anything about that but just keep moving forward.”

DC United lost to New York Red Bulls in the MLS playoffs after a season that saw them lead the Eastern Conference in early weeks. Injuries piled up and they fell away before a late surge toward the end of the campaign.

For Aguilar it was a solid debut season. He made 26 appearances, scored two goals and showed flashes of his ability. Quick, determined and unpredictable, if he can build on these promising foundations he could be a formidable player in years to come.

His progress has been noted in some very high places. In October Aguilar was called out of training and taken with the DC United attorney to Capitol Hill. Senator Harry Reid, the Democratic leader of the Senate, had read about his story in the Washington Post and wanted to “reach out”. Reid has been one of the strongest advocates of recent US immigration policy.

“It was pretty cool that the senator wanted to take time out and talk to me,” he says modestly. “That was very cool. Even though we weren’t there for long it felt good especially given my background. I know there are people that aren’t so interested in kids like me. We had to overcome a lot of obstacles just to get to where we want to be.”

With the poisonous rhetoric being spewed by presidential candidates such as Donald Trump, immigration is an enormously important issue in this election year. Amid talk of walls, quotas and forced repatriation Aguilar maintains a dignified stance.

“It’s upsetting because a lot of people have just come for a better life – they come and work and they pay taxes. They help the economy and it is very disparaging. But I believe in the system and I believe in this country and I know that they will choose the right man for the job.”

As the first top-level DACA athlete Aguilar is blazing a trail for immigrants in the USA. His story sounds like a movie tagline – from the global murder capital to the capital of the free world – but it contains a powerful message.

Aguilar shines a light not just on the struggles of aspiring footballers fighting for opportunity but more vividly on the American condition in 2016.

“I feel like I am just paving the way for a lot of good players. Because I know there are a lot of good players out there and they doubt themselves, maybe because they are not American or something. Hopefully I can just show everyone out there that it is possible. You can do it. You just have to really fight for it.”

Despite overcoming huge barriers Aguilar has emerged an incredibly calm, affable and focused young man and a highly promising footballer. Juarez seems very far away now. He is tough, battle hardened at 22, and ready to let his football do the talking.

This is a big year for American politics but just another step on the road for Aguilar. He knows his story as a professional player is just beginning. Ever humble he is quick to praise those who have helped him along the way.

“I feel like I have come a long way but I feel like I have even further to go. It has been a long journey with a lot of obstacles but I have always had the right people in my life to help me get through it and get to where I am now. I always tell them, Tibor, my mom, everyone, ‘I don’t think you guys realise how important you have been in all of this.’ I wouldn’t change anything, in spite of all the struggles; I would do it all over again.”

The most emotional moment of his fledgling career came in a brief substitute appearance against Seattle at CenturyLink Field in July.

Years earlier he had visited the same stadium with Pelle to watch his first professional match. Afterwards Pelle told Aguilar that if he worked hard, kept his head down and his grades up, then he could be out there too one day. Aguilar laughed it off modestly but his mentor assured him that he was serious. Despite all his struggles and problems, if he kept focused then Aguilar could be a professional footballer.

“I don’t think I have ever been as nervous for a game as I was for that one. Just given the culture up in Seattle, it is the closest thing you probably get here to the Premier League, the fans are crazy and the atmosphere is so euphoric. Tibor and his family were there too so that also made it extra special,” he explains.

“When I came onto the field all I could think about was back to that day. Tibor said one day I would be playing here and, shit, now here I am.”