We’re in Russia, passively. At least that’s what our social media statuses say. Now everybody except my girlfriend seems to know all about football. My aunt; the nun, she called me the other night lamenting how Messi is making her lose a bet she had challenge the mother superior. I still imagine her, amidst laughter, at the convent with the other sisters before a screen tuned to SuperSports and not the usual Capuchin TV or Waumini tv cheering their teams. Lecturers are avoiding the 7 o’clock classes saying they slept late because of a match. Comrades are “bouncing tests”. Instead of doing last minute downloading of content (layman’s term for cramming), they had been busy disputing if Christiano Ronaldo really deserved that penalty late into the night. Dates are also being cancelled because “timu ndogo ndogo zinachafua betslip“.
One life hack I’ve learned this period, should I miss a match, due to unavoidable circumstances, is to go to the timelines of the “novice fans”. They post anything and everything that happens in the 90+ minutes. Theirs’ would be a vivid description of how, when, where and what happened. For instance, the coordinates of the exact spot the referee spat will be given. I mean the coordinates in three dimensions, i.e, (x,y,z) The vectors of the direction, the presumed chemical compounds of the saliva, the quantity in litres, velocity of discharge etc. Sampling three of these and you have a pictorial assumption of exactly what happened that would be at least 98.7% correct.
Woe unto you if you go to that of a nigga that lives FIFA 2019, spends 36 hours debating on who between Ronaldo and Messi is the best, (Messi is on his own level. Second only to Gaucho. I even feel Rooney was better than Roro, au juu mimi ni hater…), get to spend the night in a cell because they were caught by the mean men in blue as they came back from watching a champions league quarter finals 3,578 feet away past curfew hours. These people get orgasms just by watching 22 grown up men chase a leather object as if the map to the secretive Wakanda Kingdom is somehow in it and later kicking it to God knows where. They are not the kind that will have time to pick their gadgets and update their status with updates of a match, unless they are ready to suffer the humiliation of not seeing how player X scored from 56 yards first hand . They somehow have the respect to assume everyone has a TV-set. They also know stations available on the free to air or the cheapest decoder bouquet air the matches live.
The next time you see someone posting the updates of a match in real time, know the moron can’t differentiate between a free kick and a penalty kick.
Not that it’s a bad thing. We can’t all be the same, have same interests and disinterests. For the world’s societies to be complete, there must be different characters. That’s why we have mad men, broke niggas like we, excellent footballers like Messi etc. Honestly, I’m not a die-hard football fan. I have a few teams that I casually support here and there, depending on the leagues and who they are playing against. However, I can’t name the full squad of any single team. I only know of wanyama in Harambee Stars. Shift the attention to rugby. I can name the whole national 7s team plus the subs (however this team is always dynamic. There’s always a new appearance and some disappearance that may make a comeback later on). I can tell you that Khayange retired from national duty with more authority than confirm if it’s really De Gea that was the goal man the day Spain played Portugal.
My friends always think I’m less of a man because of my disinterest in soccer. I care less. As long as I have the third leg; my mighty umkhonto we sizwe, and it’s functional (I mean I can pee when standing…hehe), I need no medical examinations to determine if I have a Y-chromosome.
All that aside, I wish you a painful FIFA world cup 2018 season as your teams get *********. Kama Leicester ilipata EPL, mbona underdogs wasipate?? (Tafakari ya babu)
*with hate from Croatia via Argentina.