On a field of earth on from Mexico On the Pacific coast, five cousins aged 8 to 13 undress and take off their shoes. Nearby, adults help them tie the pre-Hispanic-style “fajado,” tying loincloths and leather belts that wrap around their hips.
Osuna’s children grab the rubber ball, which weighs all of 3.2 kilograms – about 7 pounds, or seven times heavier than a soccer ball – and start playing. Only the hips can touch it, forcing players to jump into the air or dive low when it brushes the ground.
As Mexico prepares to co-host the 2026 FIFA World Cupthe country looks back to one of the oldest team sports from 3,400 years ago: the ancient ball game known as ulama, a ritual practice almost erased during the Spanish conquest that survived only in remote pockets of northwest Mexico before its revival in the late 20th century. Today, authorities and modern players are taking advantage of the momentum of international football to once again shine the spotlight on this ancient sport.
Although players acknowledge that tourism has fueled the sport’s renaissance, many fear that projecting an “exotic” image will undermine a tradition central to their identity.
“We need to rid the game of the idea that it is a living fossil,” said Emilie Carreón, a researcher at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) and director of a project to study and play the sport.
That’s exactly what the Osuna family is trying to do. After the death of ulema player Aurelio Osuna, his widow, María Herrera, 53, continued his legacy by teaching the ball game to their grandchildren in their small village of Sinaloa, 1,000 kilometers (620 miles) northwest of Mexico City.
“This seed will bear fruit one day,” she said.
A pre-Hispanic ritualAccording to the Popol Vuh, the sacred maya In this book, the world was created from a ball game, where light and darkness compete to balance life and death and set the universe in motion.
Long before the Maya, the Olmecs – the oldest known Mesoamerican civilization – practiced this sport; the recreation of this clash of opposing forces was common in various pre-Hispanic cultures. The proof lies in millennia-old rubber balls discovered in Mexico and nearly 2,000 ball courts discovered from Nicaragua to Arizona.
The game, depicted in codices, stone carvings and sculptures, had many variations and meanings, ranging from fertility or war ceremonies to political acts and even sacrifices.
While some players were decapitated – perhaps the losers – Guatemalan archaeologist and anthropologist Carlos Navarrete explained that this only happened in specific periods and in certain regions. This physically demanding game was above all a large social event, drawing crowds to have fun and bet.
Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés was impressed by the spectacle put on by the Aztec emperor Moctezuma, but the Spanish eventually banned the ulama and ordered the destruction of its courts, probably viewing the tradition as a form of resistance to Christianity. For the Catholic Church “The ball was the living devil,” Carreón said.
The game — played by hitting the ball with the hip, forearm or a mallet — survived only on Mexico’s northern Pacific coast, where the colonial process led by Jesuit priests was less aggressive and ulama were accepted into Catholic festivities, said Manuel Aguilar Moreno, a professor of art history at California State University.
On the opening day of 1968 Mexico Olympicsspectators saw burly men contort themselves in unexpected ways to keep the rubber ball moving for as long as possible. The exhibit sparked studies of the ball game and how to preserve it in subsequent decades.
The renaissance of gamingLuis Aurelio Osuna, 30, Herrera’s eldest son, began playing hip ulama after school, just as his father did decades ago at Los Llanitos, a ranch near the port city of Mazatlán. Now her three children play too.
Osuna and his mother teach the children how to hit the ball and guide them through complex rules, which include a scoring system with points won and lost.
They do it out of passion, but also out of pragmatism in a State where organized crime is omnipresent.
“We have to find a way to entertain them with good things,” Osuna said.
Hip ulama teams have up to six players and the Osuna family sometimes participates in tournaments or exhibitions.
Decades ago, matches were large events linked to religious holidays, sometimes lasting an entire week. But those days are gone, as interest waned and rubber bullets became difficult to obtain.
In the 1980s, filmmaker Roberto Rochín documented the work of what may be the last rubber ball maker in the mountains of Sinaloa. The artisan made them in the manner of the Olmecs, who discovered that mixing hot rubber sap with a plant created a strong, elastic and durable material. This civilization made some of the oldest balls in the world.
A show that arouses mixed feelingsDuring the 1990s, staff at a resort in the Mexican Caribbean traveled the country looking for Sinaloan families who could represent the ball game as a tourist attraction in the country. Mayan Rivierawhere no one played it anymore.
“It’s pure spectacle: They put makeup on their faces and put on feathered costumes,” Herrera said. Yet she recognizes its value. “That’s where the revival started.”
The ball game began to spread and become known outside of Mexico. Osuna, along with the family team his father had formed, ended up playing the hip ulama in a Roman amphitheater in Italy. It got so much attention that they were hired for a deodorant commercial, he said.
As the World Cup approaches, authorities and businesses are launching exhibitions in Mexico City and Guadalajara, and featuring ulama in advertising campaigns highlighting Mexican heritage – a move that has sparked mixed feelings.
“We are not circus monkeys,” says Ángel Ortega, a 21-year-old ulema from Mexico City who recently appeared in a television commercial alongside soccer players.
Ilse Sil, a player and member of the UNAM project led by Carreón, believes that institutional support will help preserve ulama, but officials need to promote the game in communities and schools to recruit more young players, as it remains a marginal sport with around 1,000 players mainly in Mexico and Guatemala.
In Los Llanitos, Herrera’s grandchildren love to play. No matter where – in a dirt field, in a court or even in the hallway of the house – but always with the precious heirloom: a rubber ball handcrafted for decades in the mountains of Sinaloa. They say it absorbs blows better.
Kiki, eight years old, is the most enthusiastic. He says he is determined to continue training until he realizes his dream of leading his own team.
