3,400-Year-Old Ball Game Thrives in Mexico Today

On a dusty field near Mexico's Pacific coast, children are keeping alive a tradition that predates the pyramids. The Osuna family kicks off their shoes, fastens leather belts around their hips, and begins playing ulama, a 3,400-year-old ball game that nearly vanished forever.

The rules sound impossible. Players can only touch the 3.2-kilogram rubber ball with their hips, seven times heavier than a regular soccer ball. They leap through the air and dive to the ground, contorting their bodies in unexpected ways to keep the ball moving.

María Herrera, 53, teaches the game to her five grandchildren in their small Sinaloan village, 1,000 kilometers northwest of Mexico City. After her husband Aurelio died, she refused to let his legacy fade. "This seed will bear fruit some day," she said.

The sport has survived an extraordinary journey. Created by the Olmecs and played across Mesoamerica for millennia, ulama appeared in ancient codices and stone carvings from Nicaragua to Arizona. According to the Popol Vuh, the sacred Mayan book, the world itself was created from a ball game where light and darkness clashed.

Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés witnessed the spectacle at the Aztec emperor's court, but the colonizers soon banned it. Catholic priests called the ball "the living devil" and destroyed nearly 2,000 ball courts. The game survived only in remote northwestern Mexico, where Jesuit missionaries were less aggressive and accepted ulama into Catholic festivities.

The 1968 Mexico City Olympics sparked renewed interest when spectators watched burly men demonstrate the ancient sport. Decades of documentation and research followed, but the real revival came from an unexpected source: tourism.

The Ripple Effect

In the 1990s, a Mexican Caribbean resort sought out Sinaloan families to perform ulama as a tourist attraction. While some practitioners worry about projecting an "exotic" image, the exposure reignited passion for the game. Families like the Osunas now teach their children after school, blending ancient tradition with modern life.

Luis Aurelio Osuna, 30, plays with his three children just as his father taught him decades ago. In a state where organized crime threatens youth, the game offers something precious: a positive path forward. "We need to find a way to keep them entertained with good things," Osuna said.

Researcher Emilie Carreón from Mexico's National Autonomous University now leads a project studying and practicing the sport. Her goal is clear: "We must rid the game of the notion that it is a living fossil."

As the 2026 FIFA World Cup approaches, Mexico is leveraging international soccer's momentum to shine a spotlight on its oldest team sport, proving that some traditions grow stronger with time.