Nothing to celebrate about this World Cup

This is not against the spirit of pan Africanism since the much coveted sport and tournament has come to mother continent for its maiden time but when I say that there is nothing much to celebrate most married spouses understand.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

This is not against the spirit of pan Africanism since the much coveted sport and tournament has come to mother continent for its maiden time but when I say that there is nothing much to celebrate most married spouses understand.
 
I have failed to comprehend what makes people crazy about soccer. I always hated this "most beautiful” game even in school but I played it forcefully courtesy of Mr. Kasolo our games master.

This so called African tournament has been the last straw to break the camel’s back. It has not only confirmed my hate for the beautiful game but it is threatening my 24 year old marriage. 

My Jamaican official wife Yunia has not come home past 8:00 pm in the past 24 years that we have been married. But of recent to my surprise, I have discovered her "passion” for football which has not been known me. 

In 1986, when I eloped with her from Kingston, she was still young and full of energy and if my recollection is anything to go by there was a World Cup tournament that year and she never showed interest in the game even in the face of fabulous talents such as Maradona that graced the show. 

But today, suddenly, she is the mother of fanatics and I don’t see her at home from early afternoon until after 11:00 pm. Am not only getting used to cooking for myself, something I never did in my entire life, but I miss those sweet whispers in my ears at 10:00 pm as she soothes me into hibernation. 

At first I thought I was not being romantic enough to buy the super sport services and that’s why she would go in search of these services. In a surprise romantic gesture I installed them in her absence thinking she would appreciate and watch the World Cup with me…even though I hate the game. 

"Come-on Shooter, football is not about watching from home but with the boys somewhere,” she dealt a big blow to my surprise. "With the boys!!!!” I shot back with a manly authority. She calmed me down with a "honey I didn’t say boys but girls, it’s only your suspicion!” People I may be aging but I still know when someone playing trickery on me. 

Her habit has been going from strength to strength and what pains more is that my only Steve the youngest grand child of mine from previous marriages watches the games with the boys as well. 

The other day when South Africa was being taken back to football school, I was strolling around the neighbourhood when I bumped into this middle aged woman who was sitted in their front balcony in what seemed to be biting loneliness. 

She had been an irregular friend to us and when she saw me at that time of the night, she called out to inquire.

"Shooter, what brings you around this place at this time of the night?”  I explained to her my recent ordeal with the so called World Cup and instead of showing sympathy for me, to my big surprise, she broke down and cried.

"What makes you cry?” I asked as my eyes were carrying out the FBI (female body inspector) theory on her. She told me that her husband has not been coming home since the World Cup started and when he comes, he comes late drunk.

She found solace in my embrace as she cried and narrated and in a quick instinct, we agreed that we would also watch the "world cup” together from my home henceforth. I don’t know yet if that decision was ignited by the revenge feeling that we both had or it’s because we indeed wanted to watch the games. 

We have been watching the games together and we seem much happier than when our respective spouses left us alone. By the way it’s only watching games together so far and we are determined to keep it at that for we both love our spouses.  

I warn my married colleagues that this is not a period to leave your wife or husband and go watch the games for I have suffered and I have nothing to be cheerful about this World Cup. 

angarambe2@gmail.com