Shabbat Over Stardom: Why This Israeli Teen Gave Up His Soccer Dream

From Locker Rooms to Kiddush: A Teen’s Weekly Struggle

At just 18 years old, Ra’am Zecharia of Afula was on track for a promising soccer career. Though he had started playing a little later than most—around age 13—his talent was undeniable. By the time he reached bar mitzvah age, his parents saw how serious he was and agreed to let him pursue his dream, even though it meant spending every other Shabbat sleeping away from home to avoid traveling on the holy day.

As a Shabbat-observant athlete, Ra’am constantly navigated logistical hurdles. If he had a game in Haifa, he’d find a hotel nearby. Once, for a game in Tiberias, he slept at his former teacher’s house. Another time, he and a teammate spent Shabbat in a preschool classroom just to stay close to the stadium. “We made Kiddush,” he recalled, “and there wasn’t even anyone around to answer Amen.”

But eventually, the juggling act caught up with him. One particular Shabbat, he simply couldn’t find a place to stay. The stadium was too far away to walk, and a hotel wasn’t feasible. When even his mother suggested he just take the bus, something in him snapped. “No,” he told her. “I’m not willing to desecrate Shabbat.”

That moment was a turning point.

“I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I would also be in a situation where the two worlds would inevitably collide,” Ra’am said. That realization led him to make the most difficult decision of his young life: to give up soccer.

A Leap of Faith and a New Mission

During his period of deep soul-searching, Ra’am spoke with Rabbi Shneor Gueta, a former soccer player who is now a well-known rabbi. The conversation was transformative. “He told me, soccer is your gold. If you give that gold to Hashem, He’ll build you a far greater career in return.”

Five minutes later, Ra’am texted his coach and resigned from the team.

His coach was shocked. “He thought I’d just ride the bus if I couldn’t find a place to stay,” Ra’am said. “But I couldn’t keep compromising. That’s when we parted ways and I have no regrets.”

Today, Ra’am is competing on the Israeli version of Ninja Warrior, proudly wearing his kippah on screen. He hopes to serve as a role model for other religious athletes. “I remember being a young kid, torn between my dream and my values. You’re too young to really grasp what Shabbat means. You’re just chasing fun, chasing the physical world. I want to be the voice I didn’t have back then.”

For Ra’am Zecharia, Shabbat isn’t just a day of rest. It’s a statement of who he is. And that’s a championship title worth far more than gold.