It was with a deep sense of sadness that I embarked on writing this column. And if you perhaps hear a dripping sound while reading, don’t worry, it’s only me trying very hard to hold back a tear or two.
What prompted this mawkish mood was a glance at the latest NFD standings – and seeing Santos mired second-from-bottom, in dire danger of being relegated to the nether regions of second-division football.
Surely a storied club like Santos, with the success they have achieved over the years, and remembering their important contribution to the liberation struggle, simply cannot be consigned to the scrapheap of history? Surely, there is just too much history, too much pride, too much of a noble narrative for that to happen?
Relegated from the PSL in 2012, Santos have been struggling ever since. But, you know what, struggle, suffering and strife are deeply intertwined in the origins of this club. Adversity is their second name – and, always, whatever was thrown at them in the past, they managed to overcome.
Will they be able to this time? They simply have to, there’s just so much at stake. And if the current crop of Santos footballers are not aware of what wearing the jersey means, perhaps this is the ideal time to hand them a lesson in history.
The South Africa they know today wasn’t the SA that gave birth to Santos the semi-professional club in 1982. It was the era of inequality, the age of brutal oppression and the epoch of divided football. Affiliated to Sacos (South African Council on Sport), and fully committed to the principle of “no normal sport in an abnormal society”, Santos campaigned in the Federation Professional League (FPL).
Titles and trophies they won by the bucket-load in the 1980s. When financial carrots were dangled to align with ostensible “multi-racial” organisations, with meretricious agendas, Santos stayed loyal to their non-racial values.
When, finally, a unified football body was formed in 1991, Santos continued to hold their heads high, even when they were relegated in 1993. For this club, as history will attest, setbacks and difficulties are just reasons to toil harder.
They were back among the elite in 1996 – and they then went on to emulate their FPL success by doing it in the PSL as well, winning the Super Bowl in 2001, PSL title in 2002 and the Absa Cup in 2003.
But that is but a brief picture. It would probably require a book the length of Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace to fully sketch the turbulent times faced by Santos, the courage it displayed in the face of the vicissitudes of the period, and what the club meant to the people on the Cape Flats during those dark days.
Even more importantly, it would certainly take half the book just to chronicle and expound on the many great footballers who have emerged from their ranks – from the smooth genius of the late Roy Johnson, the brazen, brash dribbling of Donnie Ronnie, the class of the dashing Duncan Crowie, the innate composure of Musa Otieno, the tenacity and leadership of Edries Burton, to the all-round versatility of Tyren Arendse, to name just a few.
And so, to return to the melancholy of my opening paragraph, this is why the current plight of my former club is so painful. I spent many seasons there, from 1986-1998, during the good and the bad, and I know, from first-hand experience, that Santos and football in the Cape are synonymous. It would be a tragedy if they were to be relegated again
They say the present can only be understood by knowing the past. They say those who forget the past are like trees without roots. If the players who represent Santos now need any inspiration to galvanise their battle against the dreaded relegation axe, then surely a reminder of the club’s illustrious and celebrated history should be enough?