Over the week-end I and a couple of friends had set plans to watch the final of the African Coup of Nations over a drink in a public place; Ghana and Egypt promised breathtaking entertainment: the first team had won the two previous African coups and the second was made of youth that had won the under 21 world cup last year, the evening looked up…
With some parking problems, we arrived slightly after kick off and the place was cracking packed with guys, eyes excitedly hooked to the screen, and right hand gripped to the bottle, with frequent hand movements from the ground up, etc., they looked in their element!
All that was ok, except: these guys were not watching no African Cup of Nations; dudes were busy cheering for manchersar and asnar, some English teams…Unbelievable!!
So we asked the bartender: Where is the African Cup at?
Clients wanted this match, he says. Naturally I couldn’t believe him, all clients seemed African to me, sorry looked African… So I did a quick poll and here are the exits: 70% wanted the English match, 20 didn’t want it but couldn’t get off their backside to change venue, so watched, and 10% didn’t care.
That’s it! I couldn’t take the democracy and decided to head to another bar; very famous for showing football, same thing! Oh sorry, they were showing it alright, but they did on a tiny little 12 inch TV in a corner with shithouse reception. Aaahhhgggrrr!
Only a handful of lonely looking faithful were watching in a rather quiet mood!
Oh, by the way, did I mention that in the second venue entrance was 3000 a head?
‘Ok this is madness: I know a bar’ I said to my friends, I went to school with the wife of the owner, bla bla…” “Last chance, let’s go!” My frustrated friends, anxious to get to any “watching point” before the match was over, If possible, had to cut me short and off we went.
By the time we arrived it was 5 minutes to a goalless halftime. We all ordered a consolation beer and watched the rest of what turned to be Ghana’s soccer lesson learning process; Good match, at least the second half of it…
Everyone I ask why they are not watching the African Coup answered in the most normal tone: ‘but Rwanda is not there’. But precisely looser! How do you want them to be there? You spend your sorry time watching English football and not go to the stadium to cheer for your local teams: for one you will have your eyes damaged for watching too much TV; you will grow a funny belly and look pathetic for drinking too much beer and not going out for sports – none of the two I care about, it’s your body.
But then your local teams will starve, and football for you will never go beyond TV fiction. Plus, this is African football man, Ibola lethu. Why would you rather watch nice European football than supporting your weak local African teams? Does it make you feel good about yourself to watch good football on TV and Identify yourself with it? Sorry, that’s called masturbation…
Now, many of you I spoke to, tell me that you don’t go to the stadium because Rwandan football is of very low standard compared to English, Spanish and Italian football. I briefly believe you, until I went to the UK for the first time. In a small city called Brighton and Hoves, no one hardly supports those teams you seem so fond of; they support: Brighton and Hoves Albion FC. Now that team is in the Football League Championship, the second tier of the English football league system – what you would call here (2e Division). The same applies to everyone in the UK; they contribute, support and cheer for their local teams, regardless of the quality of their football. They understand, that it is up to them to raise their own game and compete with big teams, some of the fans would kill themselves instead of cheering for another team which is winning against theirs!
Last week a journalist based in Turino in Italy, launched a campaign to have all residents contribute 2Euros to increase the salary of Paul Pogba so he can stay with Juventus their local team. You on the other hand, call yourselves football fans, but you never went to the stadium….
Others are in a fierce battle to use football to rule the world, and you? you are cheering, innocently with your mouth open; My God, what have they done to you!?
You know, both the English slave master and the English coloniser wouldn’t have dreamed for that; you are performing way beyond their expectations; you are a good boy; a good nigger!