Having a birthday on December 31 has its perks. People are very festive in anticipation of the New Year. They are very giving. I have scored a lot of free drinks because of that.
But it also has its downsides. It clashes with the finale of the annual football tournament that’s organised in my neck of the woods, Inanda, in KwaZulu-Natal. Because family and friends want to spend time with me on the day, it means I can’t see our Kasi tournament draw to a conclusion. I normally only see day one on the 30th.
It was the same last week. I only got to watch day one and it was thoroughly entertaining. It had everything December Kasi tournaments have. The cream of the crop, including current and former professional players, were in action as part of the sides that each put together – with squads from Amaoti, Bhambayi, Newtown C, Ohlange, Ntuzuma and KwaMashu.
There was Kasi flair. There was an old fridge, filled with ice, where beer quarts were sold. There were soft drinks, too, for those who care about their liver. Sadly, the team from my hood got a 4-1 thumping on day one, eliminating them from the finale, which meant they wouldn’t be in action on the 31st. That made me feel better about missing it.
During the drubbing, the goalkeeper – who has played in the First Division – mumbled that his defenders are letting him down and then they say he is full of himself if he doesn’t pitch up.
You see, being there and representing his hood was an obligation he couldn’t refuse, regardless of how crap the team were or how playing on a dust patch was a step down from the pristine pitches he is used to. He wasn’t going to get paid for his efforts either. But he had to be there to represent his area and his people. He’ll be there again at the end of this year.
That’s the thing with representing where you come from. Politics and other sideshows should come second. Withdrawals, especially from the Cameroon squad, have dominated the announcements of the men who will carry their countries’ hopes in the Africa Cup of Nations (Afcon) that start in Gabon next week.
England-based Joel Matip led the contingent of seven players who didn’t want to represent the Indomitable Lions. Andre Onana, Guy Ndy Asembe, Allan Nyom, Maxime Poundje, Andre Zambo and Ibrahim Amadou joined Matip in their refusal, forcing coach Hugo Broos to exclude them from his 23-man squad.
If it was up to me, these seven players would never play for Cameroon again. Matip cited issues with the previous management for his refusal to go to Gabon. I get that there are issues that would test your patriotism. A lot of African football administrators don’t cover themselves in glory as to how they treat their players and run their national teams.
Nigeria’s Under-23s found themselves stranded at an airport before the Olympics, while Zimbabwe couldn’t train at the National Stadium because the Zimbabwe Football Association (Zifa) didn’t pay for the venue.
It was a shame that Nigeria’s women national team players had to picket to get paid after returning with the Africa Women Cup of Nations (AWC) title in Cameroon. Coach Florence Omagbemi, who was nominated for the Caf Coach of the Year award, guided the Super Falcons without being paid for the couple of months leading up to the tournament.
When asked about the impact it had, she said such questions are a distraction. Her main focus was helping her country to be African champions, which she did. No one would blame Omagbemi and the Super Falcons’ players if they refused to represent Nigeria. But when you play for your country, you aren’t doing it for the suits. You are doing it for the ardent fans who spend their money to fill the stadiums.
Knox Robinson put it better when he wrote, “playing for an African national team is something entirely (different). Playing at home is eating at your mother’s house.
“At a European club you might be a gladiator, a golden boy, a devil, but slipping into the kit of your national team can grant you an almost mythic status that sets you apart from the 60 000 citizens screaming for you in the stadium”.
We also have had our share of players who have given the country the middle finger because of their differences with those running football, from Benni McCarthy to May Mahlangu and Kermit Erasmus.
But that middle finger isn’t just for management, it’s also directed at the fans who have backed them throughout and spent money to watch them.
Snubbing your country is refusing to eat your mother’s imifino (traditional green leafy vegetables) because you have suddenly discovered caviar.