On May 9, the night before a decisive soccer match, Tel Aviv's Hatikva neighborhood was consumed with paralyzing tension. It was a Friday night, so prayers for victory were offered at the local synagogue for Bnei Yehudua Tel Aviv F.C., so the team could remain in the Premier League. It's almost certain that if life had been any different in this part of southern Tel Aviv, the local soccer team would not have become the center of life for so many thousands of residents, most of them Yemeni Jews.

Hatikva has always been the poorest, most derelict neighborhood of the bustling metropolis. Just a few minutes’ drive separates it from Tel Aviv’s thriving downtown area, but too often it seems, the rapid development of the rest of the city skips over this area, ignoring its very existence, as if it were a sad mirage.

Whenever Bnei Yehuda takes to the pitch, the people of Hatikva raise their heads high with a sense of local pride. No matter where the team plays in Israel, thousands of fans make the trek to support it. When the team wins, the lights stay on in Hatikva until the wee hours of the morning, and residents can be heard singing throughout the night. When it loses, they mourn just as they would if a relative had passed away.

On May 10, Bnei Yehuda players took to the field for the final game, which would determine their fate. If they won, they would remain in the Premier League, retaining a place among Israel’s most exclusive group of large, well-funded soccer teams. They would also get the chance to host their two big sister teams, Maccabee Tel Aviv and HaPoel Tel Aviv, in their own arena. True, Bnei Yehuda has always been considered these two giants’ poor little sister, but the fact that it was also in the Premier League lent the sense, imagined perhaps, that it was an equal member of the family.