It was a Sunday and there was a pickup soccer game on the grassless, gravely field in Dormaa Ahenkro, Ghana. Asiedu’s boots were held together with homemade stitches, the studs long since worn from the soles.
He arrived late and was sent into the game much earlier than normal for a 16-year-old playing alongside grown men.
And there was the stranger in a baseball-style cap watching everything as he stood under a nearby tree.
Then Asiedu returned to the school for orphans where he'd been living for several years, ever since his grandmother could no longer afford to take care of him.
On Wednesday morning -- more than three years removed from those events -- Asiedu walked across the perfectly green expanse of FieldTurf on Monmouth University’s Great Lawn as he spoke about his past, with stately Wilson Hall standing as a symbol of a promising future.
"My whole life I was thinking I would never be here, in a place like this," he said. "But that's what God can do, no matter where you're from, if you work hard and believe in your dreams."
When the preseason watch list for the Hermann Trophy -- the Heisman Trophy of college soccer -- was announced last month, Asiedu’s name was on it, a testament to what he showed last year as a freshman.
And over the next three years, his incredible journey will parallel the Hawks’ quest to make a bold statement on the national scene.
Because when you understand the path he’s walked, see the confidence in his stride and listen to the determination in his voice, it's hard not to imagine anything is possible for him, and his teammates.
"I want to set an example," he said. "My whole life I believe that you have to work hard, show respect and follow your dreams. Kids grow up different ways. Not everyone here has that mentality."
It takes a village
The man in the baseball cap's name was Sylvers Owusu.
He came to the United State from Ghana with his family when he was 14 in 1999. He played soccer at St. Benedict's Prep in Newark, and then at Saint Peter's before returning to St. Benedict's as an assistant coach.
And on that fateful day, Owusu was watching Asiedu, one of several students at the school he was observing.
"I'm from the same area in Ghana," Owusu said. "I was there on vacation and my aunt was headmaster at the school, and she mentioned to me about a few soccer players who were good students. So that's basically how I got involved.
"When I heard his story, I just fell in love with him."
The story really starts when Asiedu's mother died in 2006. His father, a former soccer star in the town and region, was unable to care for Anderson, leaving him to bounce from home to home within the town for a time before he began living with his grandmother, in a home with no electricity.
Eventually, she simply couldn't afford to take care of him, and he went to live at the school.
"I'm from a poor house in a poor village, so normally nobody cares about you," Asiedu said. "But it was a small town, so people know you."
So as Owusu asked around, it was those villagers, who had done their best for the humble, respectful boy, who kept talking about the young soccer player with so much potential. And while Owusu remained in the background at that first game, when the elders were quick to get Asiedu onto the field, it was clear to the teenager why Owusu was there the next time he showed up.
"After the game I stood up and thanked him and said that even if this opportunity is not for me, we thank him for bringing it to our town," Asiedu said. "And whoever gets it, maybe one day he will make our town proud. He was looking a like five or six kids, and we all went to a house to take an exam.
"Now Sylvers is like a father figure. In Ghana, if someone does something that prestigious, it's an honor and you have to respect them until death. He changed your whole life, so I respect him a lot."
Culture Shock
When Asiedu walked off the flight at John F. Kennedy Airport late in the afternoon on July 24, 2013, he stepped into a world unlike anything he’d ever imagined.
"I didn’t know what was going on. 'Is this really me?' " he said. "Because a small boy like me, born and raised in Africa coming to this place by myself, flying to Cairo, Egypt, because I didn’t have enough money for a direct flight."
Owusu was there to meet Asiedu and take him to St. Benedict's, where he would live, go to school and play soccer.
"I didn't even know you had to go to the bathroom inside," he laughed. "Back home you go everywhere. So I was looking for a spot to do it and Sylvers is, 'No, no, you can't do that.' He will still say to me, 'Do you remember the first days you were here?' We laugh."
Asiedu made up for what he lacked in his understanding of local customs with a desire to succeed and incredible athletic ability.
"We didn't know anything about him. We quite frankly were just open to giving the boy an opportunity to study and play soccer and attend school in the United States," said St. Benedict's soccer coach Jimmy Wandling.
But within weeks Asiedu was emerging as a leader in the locker room. And when the coaching staff began adding a better technical foundation to his natural talent, he blossomed on the field.
A year later, St. Benedict's was the top high school team in the country, while Asiedu helped the Player Development Academy in Zarephath win a national championship at the club level.
But it was his befriending of a then-seventh-grade soccer player named Matthew Leong that was as important as any of the victories.
Leong invited Asiedu to the family's home in Hoboken one weekend, and soon he was spending every weekend there.
Now he lives with Todd and Grace Leong's family when he's not at school.
"They trusted me and they believed in me," Asiedu said. "I live with them and that changed my whole life, giving me a place to sleep, which is hard in America."
By the time he was a senior Asiedu was one of the most heavily recruited players in the country, with all the top programs, including North Carolina and UCLA, hoping to land the 5-6 dynamo.
"He's got a lot of pride and he's certainly not afraid to show that to people when he's playing," Wandling said. "He's a very special player not based on what he was born with, but based on what he's prepared to give."
Ultimately, Asiedu decided to stay near the small support group he'd built for himself in New Jersey.
"If I go away, there's no one there to keep an eye on me," he said. "Here, I have Owusu and the family. If I'm doing crazy things, I have eyes on me. And I grew up in a small town and I wanted to go to a place where I could excel. I was used to small things. I want to go to a small place and make it bigger."
Bright future
Monmouth coach Rob McCourt knew exactly what he was getting when Asiedu showed up on campus last summer.
"When he got here I said, 'Don't think about coming in as a freshman. Think about coming in as Anderson," McCourt said. "The best guys play and you have a strong voice and a strong personality. The best components of your game are your leadership abilities."
It only took a few weeks for Asiedu to figure out the college game from his position in Monmouth's midfield.
By season's end, the Hawks had produced a 17-game unbeaten streak, the second longest in the nation for the 2015 season.
The longest streak last season was 18 games, with the University of Denver one of two teams to do it. And wouldn't you know, it's Denver -- ranked No. 20 in the NSCAA preseason poll -- that opens the season at Monmouth on Aug. 26.
Monmouth has done a lot of winning in the 12 years since McCourt arrived, going 144-52-46 during that time. Asiedu has done nothing but win since he's been in this country.
"We need three championships this year," McCourt said to Asiedu, referring to the MAAC regular-season and tournament titles and the NCAA championship.
And as Asiedu walked off to join his teammates at breakfast, he simply shrugged. Because from his perspective, anything is possible.