A priest called 'Litus', off to a good start. In the Bonanova parish, in the upscale area of Barcelona, Carlos Ballbé, 'Litus', presents himself in a clerical habit with an urban touch, a field hockey stick, and a lot of humor. He explains that this year he started training with the veterans of his lifelong club, Atlètic Terrassa, and already fears the day he has to play because he was always "tremendous" on the field and hopes he won't blaspheme. "I'm scared for my debut, let's see how I behave. Luckily, I work on Sundays," he jokes in conversation with EL MUNDO.
Ballbé combined field hockey with the seminary and competed in the 2012 London Olympics with Spain, but then retired, became a priest, and had not touched a stick until recently. Now, at 40 years old, besides playing again, he is a vicar at the Bonanova parish and coordinates the Sports Ministry, a commission of the Spanish Episcopal Conference that aims to blend goals with faith.
Question. It's not common for a Spanish athlete to admit believing in God. Becoming a priest is extremely rare.
Answer. But in other countries, it's very normal. In the United States, there are NBA or NFL athletes who go on religious retreats; in Brazil, many soccer players openly show their faith; in the Balkan countries, it's also very common. In Spain, it's harder, that's true. There are more believers among athletes than people think, but few express it, maybe out of shame. I understand, of course.
Q. Were you ashamed of it?
A. Being a believer never made me feel ashamed, nor going to mass. When I traveled with Atlètic or the Spanish national team, I would ask at the hotel reception for the nearest church and go to mass on Sunday mornings before games. My coaches and teammates always made it easy for me, even though I received all kinds of jokes. When I returned from mass, they told the coach that there was no need for a technical talk anymore because God was with us. I laughed, it was always in good spirits.
Q. But when you entered the seminary, you informed your Atlètic teammates by email.
A. It wasn't out of shame, it was out of fear of rejection. A priest told me, "Prepare yourself because some may accept it and some may not." They thought some teammates would reject me for being a geek and that the closest ones would reject me for not explaining it earlier. But neither happened. Everyone accepted me, and it was a gift for me. Some, jokingly, asked me what I was smoking and why I didn't share. But they always showed their support. I started at the seminary near Pamplona and played for Atlético San Sebastián.
Q. Why did you want to be a priest?
A. I was always a believer, like my family, I also went to a religious school [Viaró de Sant Cugat], but that year I felt that was my path. It coincided with my grandmother's death and a pilgrimage to Medjugorje, in Bosnia, which had a big impact on me.
Q. Your former teammates say you used to be a party animal.
A. I went out partying, I won't deny it. In fact, some Sundays I went to mass with a hangover. If a kid like me walked into church now, I would tell them to go home, that it's better not to be there in that state. I remember once we won the league with Atlètic, and while all my teammates continued celebrating, I went to mass. For me, it wasn't an obligation, I went because I wanted to. I was aware of my weaknesses, I never saw myself as a good Christian, but I always wanted to go to mass because it helped me.
Q. Did your teammates question you about your faith?
A. Constantly, and I appreciated it, even encouraged it. I juggled field hockey with the seminary for four years, some in San Sebastián and others back in Terrassa, and during that time I had truly interesting conversations in the locker rooms, hotels, and on trips. There were jokes, but also existential questions, a lot of curiosity. It helped me deepen my faith.
Q. When you search "Carlos Ballbé hockey" on Google, it suggests "expelled." Were you really so combative on the field?
A. Some rivals will think it's impossible that I'm a priest now because I was the worst. I would love to say I was an example on the field, but it wasn't like that. I was very crafty, complained a lot, was tough. Although when I entered the seminary, I changed a bit. I started to think of sports as philosophy, of my personal growth, solidarity, teamwork... many concepts related to faith.
Q. To prepare for the 2012 London Olympics, you put the seminary on hold and went to Belgium to play. Why?
A. I needed a breather. I had grown up at Atlètic, played in San Sebastián, returned to Atlètic, and before the London Games, I wanted to step back from everything and truly decide what to do with my life. I spent some time in Belgium, but towards the end, it was hard for me to train, I was already thinking that I really wanted to finish the seminary, be in the church, help others. So shortly after the Olympics, I hung up the stick.
Q. Among athletes who believe, many ask God for help to win or even to play well or score. What do you think?
A. To win a game, you don't need to pray, you need to train. Just like to pass exams, you don't need to pray, you need to study. God helps you, accompanies you, makes you a better person, but He has more important things to do than follow a game. When I played, I remember praying before games to behave well, not mess up, not cause a scene, but God didn't always listen to me.
Q. Have you managed to make any of your former teammates become believers and go to mass?
A. Not a single one. But since I was a child, my parents taught me about faith and freedom. I was free to believe, and they, of course, are too. Two things comfort me. First, many accompanied me to long masses, important masses for me that sometimes lasted two and a half hours. That's a treasure I hold dear. And second, even if they don't go to mass, perhaps they reflect more on certain things and delve into their goodness thanks to conversations we had during those years.