The account describes a tournament in which some players stretched and prepared in silence while others watched opponents near a speaker playing narcocorridos, songs associated with the mythology of Mexican drug traffickers.
That detail matters. The football environment is not separate from the community around it; the two exist side by side. A match may provide a temporary refuge, but the sounds, loyalties and pressures of daily life remain close.
Salinas Grimaldi reportedly added: “Eles são muito leais ao seu modo de viver, e eu preciso respeitar isso.”
Her position reflects a boundary familiar to youth coaches in troubled communities. She can demand effort, discipline and commitment during training, but she cannot dictate every influence her players encounter beyond the pitch.
The report says she is especially concerned about teenagers being drawn into criminal groups or disappearing into drug dependency. Those fears give every training session a significance far beyond football development.
The Ravens’ value should not be measured only by results. Their strongest contribution may be the daily act of keeping young people visible, involved and connected to trusted adults.
But no coach can carry that responsibility alone. If football is to remain a genuine refuge, it needs support from families, schools, health services and community organisations. The pitch can create breathing space; it cannot solve the crisis surrounding it.
The next tournament will therefore be about more than the score. The key storyline will be whether the Ravens can preserve that space for their players - and whether wider support grows around the team.