Where It Began on the Pura Vida Path

Karl Manz spent years as an active member of Team America football alongside him was Hector Lujan, a fellow Team America alumnus who shared that same standard and that same hunger to compete.

In 2021, both men were invited to join the Costa Rica Sharks in Cancun, Mexico, suiting up for the Costa Rica Sharks for the first time — a player-run team.

That day in Cancun was the baptism by fire, the hits were too hard, the score too discouraging, one by one members of the sharks were tapping out, Karl and Hector didn't. They stayed and competed — because that's what you do as men and as a true american football player. No matter the score, no matter who walks away, you finish the game. That's not just a football principle. That's a life principle.

The Sharks lost that day. But something more important was revealed. Karl saw it clearly: this team didn't just need more talent. It needed leadership. It needed a culture shift. Potential without structure is just potential. He knew what had to change — and he knew he couldn't change it alone.

So Karl did what great leaders do. He called for reinforcements.

His credibility, his experience, his standard — and Hector's beside him — would become one of the cornerstones of what Rise Beyond Development would eventually be built on.

Ian Jackson joined the Phoenix Outlaws in 2014. From day one he embraced everything the Outlaws stood for — brotherhood, pride, and discipline. As a middle linebacker and defensive end, Ian didn't just play for the Outlaws. He became part of their identity.

Then in 2017, something happened that would change the trajectory of his life.

Ian suited up for Team USA and traveled to San José, Costa Rica — his first time on an international stage. Team USA defeated the Costa Rica Bulldogs 24-13, but the scoreboard wasn't what stayed with Ian. It was the people. The culture. The warmth of a country that loved the game and deserved more from it. San José got into him that day in a way he didn't fully understand yet.

2022, Ian, Karl, Victor, and Hector helped lead the Phoenix Outlaws to the Cactus Football League minor league championship. Four men. One team. One standard.

Then Karl made his move.

Flying high off the championship and with a clear vision for what the Costa Rica Sharks could become, Karl began hand-picking the players he felt had the right characteristics — not just the talent, but the makeup — to help him change the culture and change the game for Costa Rica. He wasn't looking for bodies. He was looking for builders.

He called Ian. He called Victor. And together with Hector, who was already on the Sharks, they traveled to Medellín, Colombia for the Medellín Bowl.

The Sharks won.

Championship culture had followed them south. But more importantly, the right people were now in the room — men who had won together, competed together, and shared a belief that this team, this country, and this sport were worth investing in.

The Medellín Bowl was proof of concept. Now it was time to put the Sharks on the map in their own backyard.

Early 2023, the Costa Rica Sharks took the field at the National Stadium in San José — one of the most iconic venues in the country — against Team USA. On home soil, in front of their own people, the Sharks rose to the moment.

They beat Team USA in their National Stadium.

The momentum that had been building — through Cancun, through Medellín, through the culture shift Karl had demanded and the reinforcements he had called — exploded into something real. The Sharks weren't a struggling player-run team anymore. They were contenders.

And with that win, their eyes turned toward the world stage. The 2023 World Games in Italy were next. The Costa Rica Sharks were ready.

The Costa Rica Sharks made the long journey to Ravenna, Italy, not knowing exactly what to expect — but ready for whatever came.

What made this team unlike any other was how it was built. No coaching staff. No front office. Just players — Ticos and Americans — who had chosen to come together, trust each other, and compete as one. The culture shift Karl had fought for in Cancun, the reinforcements Ian and Victor had brought from Arizona, the brotherhood forged across Medellín and San José — it all came down to this.

What happened next could have never been predicted.

The Costa Rica Sharks won the 2023 World Games in American Football, defeating Mexico to claim the championship and bring the trophy back to Costa Rica.

But the story didn't end with the final score. Across the entire tournament, the Sharks' defense was doing something historic — something that would only become fully visible in the games that followed. A streak had quietly begun. Forty-nine consecutive quarters of zero points allowed. No opponent could find the end zone. No offense could crack what Karl, Hector, Ian, Victor, and their teammates had built — a defense forged not by a coaching staff but by men who refused to quit when everyone else did.

They had gone from a team that fell apart at halftime in Cancun to World Champions.

And standing in Ravenna, trophy in hand, four men from Phoenix, Arizona knew something that no scoreboard could fully capture: this was bigger than football. What they had built — the culture, the brotherhood, the belief — was something worth sharing with the world.

The World Games trophy was just the beginning.

The Sharks continued their tour of success — shutouts, victories, and a growing love for the game that carried them from Peru to Colombia to Argentina. But what was happening off the field was just as significant as what was happening on it. The families came along. The culture deepened. The Ticos and the Americans weren't just teammates anymore — they were one giant family, bound together by something far greater than football.

The Sharks had become more than a team. They had become a movement.

Two years after Ravenna, the Sharks returned to Europe. This time the World Games were held in Loutraki, Greece — and the Sharks came back hungry to repeat.

They fell short. In the final championship game, Team USA stood between the Sharks and back-to-back world titles, and this time Team USA didn't give way.

But in that moment of defeat, something profound was revealed. The Costa Rica Sharks had become a permanent force on the world stage — a player-run team from a small Central American nation that had shocked the world, built a dynasty, and proven that culture and leadership could outwork talent and tradition. No single game could take that away.

And standing together in the aftermath, Ian and Karl had the conversation that changed everything.

They had given everything to the field. They had changed a culture, built a family, and carried a country's flag to the world stage. But as they talked — really talked — they felt a different calling pulling at them. They had done the work on the field. Now it was time to do the work off the field.

Both men had fallen in love with Costa Rica. The culture. The people. The warmth of a country that embraced them as sons. And the more they loved it, the more clearly they saw what it needed.

Costa Rica had heart. It had passion. It had athletes willing to compete against the world. But it had no infrastructure. No youth development. Coaches working from outdated schemes and styles. No one teaching the next generation the fundamentals, the mindset, the championship mentality that Ian and Karl had been raised on since they were old enough to hold a football.

The Sharks had changed the culture at the top. But real, lasting change had to start at the bottom.

It had to start with the youth.

That was the revelation. In order to keep Costa Rica competitive — in order to truly change the American football culture of an entire country — they needed to go deeper. Teach them young. Install the same principles, the same discipline, the same belief in something greater than themselves that had turned a broken, player-run team into world champions.

Ian and Karl knew what they had to do.

Rise Beyond Development was no longer just an idea. It was a calling.

What started as a baptism by fire in Cancun had become something no one could have scripted.

Four men from Phoenix, Arizona — Karl Manz, Ian Jackson, Hector Lujan, and Victor Daniel — had traveled thousands of miles, competed on some of the world's biggest stages, and given everything they had to a country that wasn't their own. They had changed a culture. They had built a family. They had stood on a podium in Ravenna, Italy as World Champions and carried Costa Rica's flag further than it had ever gone in American football.

They didn't have to do any of it. No one asked them to. No one paid them to. They did it because they believed — in the game, in the people, and in something greater than themselves.

The story of the Costa Rica Sharks was one chapter.

What comes next is a different kind of championship.