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A recent evening physical therapy class ran late for Stony Brook student Leo Pinto, who, unlike his peers, had to make a mad dash about 30 miles to Massapequa for practice with the American Soccer Club of the NPSL.
It comes with the territory of being a semipro athlete. Pinto, like his teammates, is gladly at the beck and call of work and play — plus traveling to tristate away games on weekends.
“You lose sleep, but you could tell your family, your friends that, ‘Hey, I’m doing it.’ I’m playing in this professional environment,” the 24-year-old told The Post.
Pinto just experienced a prime example of the toll playing semipro has not just on himself, but also on his girlfriend and her family.
He owes them a nice steak dinner after they moved the couple into a new apartment while he was on the road for a game, as they’re just as supportive of Pinto living out his deep aspirations.
“They come to my games. They know how much she sacrificed, how much I sacrificed to have this life,” the utility midfielder said. “As a kid, you have that dream of playing professionally. … I just want to embrace that for as long as I can.”
Pitching in
He’s one of many on the Fighting Tomcats living out their dreams to have one more serious shot at the game they deeply love in between working their 9-to-5 jobs. Teammates are happy to turn eight-hour days into 16-hour affairs with late practice three nights a week.
“Usually, when I step on that field, I usually just forget [about the stresses of life],” center midfielder Jose Mejia said.
The roadway construction worker and dad of a newborn daughter, Luna, is usually wiped out from a day of physical labor by the time practice starts. Still, the extracurricular is his labor of love.
“I don’t look at it in a way where, ‘Oh, it’s tough for me,’ ” said the 25-year-old Mejia, who exclusively works, raises his daughter and plays soccer this time of year. “I usually just enjoy and have fun on the field and give my best.”
Captain, striker and HVAC account manager Brian Saramango does lots of training in season — the LIRR from his city office back to Long Island, specifically.
He dances around being on site for work emergencies, which “basically happen all the time, especially now that it’s summer,” and making time to get ready for match day while trying to eat well close to midnight.
“Sometimes you have to stay at work late. Coach is understanding,” Saramango said of John Fitzgerald. “He obviously knows that we have day jobs.”
The 27-year-old said it’s a good day if he gets five to six hours of sleep — still sore from practice — before getting on his train, which includes a frustrating transfer in Jamaica.
“Sometimes I feel very drained, but the second I step on this field … you start joking around with the guys laughing, and then you kind of blank on life in general,” he said. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s true.”
Having a ball
The opportunity to keep joyfully playing through the pain and frustrating moments for Saramango hits home at a level deeper than the rest of AFC. He played professionally in Europe, notably for B-SAD in Portugal, before moving back to New Hyde Park, where he lives in an apartment connected to his parents’ home.
“I had a burnout mentally, and I thought that I was done playing soccer and that I didn’t need it in my life,” he said of ending his overseas career. “I tried pushing away soccer as much as possible.”
He missed the good stuff, especially teammate camaraderie and scoring goals, too much to make retirement a permanent decision.
Playing on home turf to the roar of Long Island fans, young and old, was an X factor Saramango never knew he needed to make it all work.
“Coming home, and having my nephew be like, ‘Hey, Uncle Brian, when can I go to your next game?’ ” he said. “It is heartwarming and nice for me, which gives me more motivation to keep going and just enjoy it all.”
English (US)