by Arielle R. Nelson

The center of Foss Park on a summer Sunday afternoon is transformed into a soccer showcase. Players compete with each other with passion and brutish athleticism common to that found for soccer in the metric-ruled nations.

Most of the players in the league, though, came from different parts of Central and South America and many have played professionally in their home countries, said Jose A. Palma, from Lynn, who plays in the league.

Currently the league only plays with Spanish and Portuguese speaking people, he said. “It’d be great for the next year if we could mix it up and bring in other people.”

To the English-speaker’s ear, the nuances of Mexican or Columbian Spanish or Brazilian Portuguese are lost. But, to the players and fans at the games, it is a celebration of syllables and dialects that refuse to be repressed. Because they share their non-American-ness, there is no need for individual names. They just call out country names.

When a Columbian referee hands and El Salvadoran player a yellow card, an El Salvadoran fan explained that the referee is bias for the Columbian players. Later, on the other end of the field, a fan calls out to the referee: “Hey! Columbia!”

The referee turns around, and the two men exchange thumbs up.

One player attracts more attention than most. He is short and solid with brown hair spun blond and crazed on the top. Admirers and detractors call out to him: “Brazil!” But, he does have a name that was well-known when he played professional soccer in Brazil, and may be well-known here if his plans and hard work pay-off.

Ronaldo Da Silveira, 26, is gearing up for his much-anticipated tryout for the New England Revolution soccer team.

Da Silveira said he has been playing soccer since he was seven years-old his home country, and hejoined a professional Brazilian soccer team when he was 17.

“Even though I don’t speak English, I still know how to play the game,” said Da Silveira, through his agent and translator Karen Marie Faris. “If they don’t give me a chance, they’re going to miss out on a good player.”

Da Silveira, who said he left Brazil in December 2003 to live with family in Somerville, currently plays soccer for the El Salvadorian team Agua Caliente, one of the six teams in the Centro y Sud America League.

Da Silveira said he is still waiting for a response from Joe Cummings, the director of the Revolution team, about when tryouts will occur. A scout from the Revolution has watched him play.

He said that except for the 3-2 win against the Kansas City Wizards in June, the team has been doing poorly. “I want to help the Revolution team win.”

The soccer player, who works in a warehouse in New Hampshire, said that landing a spot on the Revolution team could also provide financial stability for him, his wife and their young son. “I hope that God blesses me and that I can bless others.”

“He has good character, a good personality. He has determination. I think he’ll make it,” Faris said.

Although not formally his agent, Faris said she has power of attorney for Da Silveira, which is sufficient for her to handle his career right now.

Standing next to the opposing team’s net, Faris watches and cringes at Da Silveira on field travails, as he is routinely faces triple-teams and cheap shots. Not only do the opposing players resent Da Silveira’s talent and career prospects, his own teammates look the other way rather than protect him, she said.

Through it all, she feels the pressure to get Da Silveira a professional gig, before the abuse he endures every Sunday takes its toll, Faris said.

Regardless of his own dreams of soccer stardom in America and his mentress’ hopes and fear, Da Silveira said he loves to play and it is that love that drives him. “My life is ball. I was born with my arms around a soccer ball.”

“My mom used to say that I played soccer inside her stomach when she was pregnant with me. Now I just need the opportunity for people to know who I am so I can play for the Revolution and win,” he said.