TO DURBAN.....AGAIN

The Telkom Knockout Final venue in South Africa was not met with the usual “Durban again” social media outpouring of misgivings and virtual emotional tweeting, status updating and instagraming that comes with previous announcements. I put this down to the small fact that not many of the social media intellects know where Princess Magogo Stadium is. The location of the township where upon said stadium is also not known to those who do not get to watch Uzalo on SABC 1. These are of course the middle class citizens who get watch everything on Explora and such other devices. Kwamashu is indeed in Durban and therefore meaning that another cup final is going to Durban, as per the level headed people at the plush offices of the Premier Soccer League.

For years we have been told that the criteria to getting to the decision of where a particular final will be played out is that all interested municipalities put in a bid and the most appealing of these will the nod from the league. The two teams that are in the final are consulted, apparently, and then a decision is made. The word apparently is not just thrown in there dear reader. It just seems rather strange that a team that does fill a 5000 seater stadium would want to move it`s small group of followers more than 600 kilometers towards India for trophy final. Bidvest Wits and Bloemfontein Celtic have wonderful support, it has to be said. However it`s a wonderfully small support. Don`t let the loud singing fool you, only the minority turn up for those away games. So why would Bloemfontein Celtic and Bidvest Wits agree to play a big final in a foreign province that involves a lot of travelling for their beloved fans who can and will bring atmosphere to this Telkom Knockout final. Why?

The Etekwini(that`s the politically correct name for Durban) municipality seems to be the one that submits the best bids year in and year out, so I think that part of the criteria should really be done away with unless we just say that Durban is the official ‘Finals’ venue. The Cape Town municipality has long shown that it has no care whatsoever for the nationally loved sport of football. They also noticed the empty stadiums at 99.99% of the league games. The 0.01% is taken up by the derby. Cape Town is the only one that could maybe compete with Durban as the city is also tourism orientated. Putting Polokwane up against Durban for a bidding competition that weighs heavily on expertise in tourism is just like putting that guy who was knocked down in 6 seconds in the ring with Floyd Mayweather…..

So the two major pillars of the criteria to making the decision of where to take a final have little holes in them. I have also heard that the stadium`s ability to handle those Very Important People is also of immense importance. The stadium has to have adequate hospitality facilities so that those in charge can sell off ninety minutes of football at mind boggling prices. A seat in the hospitality suites can set you back a measly R5995 when Kaizer Chiefs and Orlando Pirates are on the pitch. Now let us not talk about the hospitality suites at the Princess Magogo stadium and just say I do not a lot of VIPs making their way there. Moreover Uzalo has made us believe that those very expensive automobiles are stolen pretty quickly by the likes of Mastermind.  So the hospitality suites angle falls by the wayside, as far as I`m concerned. So why, oh why did the stakeholders to the final take it to Princess Magogo? The acting CEO of the PSL is from those parts, or at least her club is but apparently she has very little say in such matters. The president is also of KZN origin but I do seriously doubt he would dip his fingers in that cookie jar. Surely it`s way too small for his hands, no matter how greasy they might be.

Could someone be benefitting from throwing every other final in the direction of Durban? Did Shaka Zulu leave behind instructions that finals were to be held in Durban or else all the maidens from all the other tribes in South Africa would be collected and married off to Zulu men?

Whatever the reason, someday somehow somewhere someone needs to explain why we keep having to travel towards India for finals.

AMAKHOSI TKO`D

During the warm Kaizer Chiefs` veteran striker, Bernard Parker showed lethal precision by hitting the same spot twice. George Maluleke showed his precision by netting all the shots that were teed up for him by the trainer in charge of the drill. The spot that was hit by Parker was a fan that had seated himself on the dusty stand behind the goals at Bidvest Stadium. The first time he was hit it was all giggles and smiles and waves, the second time he was hit I think he did not get in time wave or smile. Point is, Parker missing the nets during warm turned out to be omen as the Kaizer Chiefs strikers went on miss at least four very good chances on their way out of the 2017 Telkom Knockout. Zuma covered up his one on one miss(wonder where he got that from....surname is a hint...) rolling on the turf in absolute pain.

But let`s talk logistics for a while. The stand where the trophy that the two teams were playing on this sunny Saturday did not make it to the stadium. Young men in various swag attire unwrapped the stand with great haste only to find that the trophy that was to sit on said stand was not around. One in saggy swag made a quick phone call and there was shrugging of shoulders from various other young fellows and the show went on. Maybe the winners of TKO from last season are yet to bring back the silverware. I am reliably told it is the only trophy in their display cabinet but enough about Cape Town, for now.

It was a rather absorbing game of football or soccer for all you Yankees. The entrance of a trio of yellowbones in very small shorts caught my eye for a second or two(the wife allows me to look!) so I cannot tell whether Egyptian striker Amal Gaml fell of his own accord or was dropped in the Chiefs area rather early in the first half. I did, however see the entire Bidvest Wits and Kaizer Chiefs benches arise in unison. Gavin Hunt kicked and threw both hands to the heavens while Steve Komphela gestured the sign that a ticket be handed out to Gaml. Referee Gomes is a bit of a penalty giving specialist. All he did in this instance was to rush over and instruct the irate Hunt to calm down.

Willard Katsande, who usually gets a yellow just for walking onto the pitch received one of those kicks you see on WWE a while later. As resilient as his country`s president, the Zimbabwean immediately rose and continued. In fact he was fit enough to go into a challenge with his studs raised just a few actions later. A bookable offence. Young Meyiwa ran interference and in the process put his studs on the foot of the player that had been fouled by Mr Katsande. Eviction! His defence stands that in the act of getting up he put his foot on a leg.... he may need Barry Le Roux to get that red card rescinded. Katsande went in hard on the ref and fourth official, pleading that he was the one who committed the offence. Little did he know that referee had forgotten about him. His customary yellow card was shown to after Meyiwa had trudged off the pitch towards the change rooms.

Straight from that unfortunate incident Bidvest Wits scored what was to be the deciding goal. The head of striker Keene doing the damage. That same head was to be later bloodied by a rather enthusiastic Malongoane. The vertically Chiefs winger climbed all over Keene as he took his duties of doing the right back`s job after the sending off to great heights.

After the break it was all about Kaizer Chiefs strikers missing very good chances to equaliser and even go in front and of course Keene getting bloodied and then being barred from re-entering the field after the Bidvest Wits kit team produced a number-less jersey. The kit manager rushed inside to do some quick fire laundry on the bloodied top before the striker could be allowed back on to the field. All this while the Chiefs fans called for Gomes` head for wasting time.

There was no calling for Steve to fall after the game, with quite few Phefeni Boys fans shouting their support for Steve Komphela and stretching their hands for a handshake with the clean shaven coach.

All that was left was for me to try and figure why our food packs and a fork, spoon and knife inside....? It was the same organisers who left the trophy and brought the stand after all...  

They Become Awe-rdinary

I like Gavin, or let me say I have a liking for Gavin Hunt. He is the current Bidvest Wits coach for those of you who do not have inkling about what I`m talking about. I actually once sat rather close to Gavin one night and had the luxury of drinking a Heineken while he downed a Castle. We mumbled a few odd words to each other but because of what we were consuming I cannot remember what it is we talked about that day. That night is not the reason I have a liking for the man.
I have a liking for the way he takes forever to come back out of the dressing room for a post match interview when his team has lost to give one word answers and look absolutely upset. It`s the complete opposite when a victory is registered. I have a liking for the way he will grill a reporter if he smells that the unfortunate journalist does not have all the historical facts.
It was this same Gavin Hunt that was asked what he thought about Benni McCarthy`s wonderful start to his coaching career out in Cape Town with Cape Town City FC.
"...Wait until he's done 1000 games like I've done, or maybe 1200 games like I've done, then we will see.."

At the time reading reports all over the South African Fourth Estate were overflowing with how Mr

McCarthy had wonderfully well in Cape Town. It was like he had won the EUFA Champions League. 
Before the MTN8 Final came to pass, almost all the stories and posts on that major newspaper Twitter were about Benni winning his first trophy. It was like Benni was doing it all by himself at Cape Town City FC.
Forget the fact that this was the same, bar a very few, group of players that were put together by the erstwhile Mushin Ertugral at Mpumalanga Black Aces. Kaizer Chiefs and Orlando Pirates fans will remember what that team used to do their blood pressures. Forget that Eric Tinkler had gone into Cape Town and won a cup with that team. I can tell you that Tinkler was not mentioned half as many times as Benni and poor old Tinkler had actually won the Telkom Knockout.

The media in South Africa looked at Benni in awe. This man has Cristiano Ronaldo on speed dial! He was on the pitch for a EUFA Champions League Final! You can imagine a young seventeen year old player at Cape Town City hearing that Benni was going to be right there with them everyday! Hhai maan! The great Benni McCarthy? The one who scored 4 goals at a Africa Cup of Nations tournament?!? Awe. That`s how the players looked at their new coach. Then it happened.

A man who can shout obscenities in a place full of cameras is either brave, angry or angrily stupid. What an action like shouting about one`s mother does to one is it brings that person down to the level of those that do it as well. So when Benni had to be restrained as he went on a shouting war with players he became 'one of the guys' to all those players that looked at him in awe.

Benni McCarthy became an ordinary rookie coach who went on make mistakes like not playing the correct players 'I should have played Patosi...' 'Maybe I should have....Teko...' and so forth and so forth. The players that looked so awesome at Cape Town City now looked awe-rdinary.

If You Cannot Beat Them....

I remember sitting at what you know as the Bidvest Stadium when it was okay to call the team that uses that stadium as its home Wits University and watching them purposefully lose to some team from Mozambique in what is now known as the CAF Confederations Cup. After the the loss the team officials present did not even bat any eyelid. It was like the team had just lost some irrelevant High School training match. It was simply not worth it for South African teams at that to use the abundant resources at their disposal to go into an African club competition and make look like they cared.
 I was one of the few, very few, that would ask about African competitions at press conferences. Very vague answers would be muttered by coaches when we ask if going to compete 'in Africa' was part of the motivation to win the Nedbank Cup. Those in the cushy seats of football governance called on CAF to change the calendar so as to suit the South African one which runs concurrent with our past colonial master up in the cold continents. The performances of the teams and the disdain which CAF club competitions were being treated was more like a message to CAF to say 'conform to our ways or we will not treat your competitions seriously.' South African clubs participated mainly because CAF came down hard on clubs and Football Associations that failed to fulfill fixtures. Kaizer Chiefs had been made a perfect example in the early 2000s.
So for a good ten or so years, we made to watch clubs enter and exit both the Champions League and the Confederation Cup.
  In the media circles, we had a handful of journalists that actually reported on African club competitions. I remember being the only journalist with any connection to the South African media circles when Supersport United played Gaborone United. Coach Cavin Johson even brushed me off after the match, quipping 'Come on Dube, I`m always talking to you. You know what I`ll say maan'
 Then came Orlando Pirates, led by the very same Roger De Sa who had overseen the exit of Wits(Bidvest Wits now, if don`t to receive correctional tweets from the team`s media nerds). The team traveled far and wide across the great continent of Africa. Each time they would come back with stories. Heroic stories like how Senzo Meyiwa saved countless dubious penalties while officials and media were being harassed to no end in Kabila's Democratic Republic of the Congo. All and sundry in the great rainbow nation of South Africa came to know about that pesky little nonsensical toy called a laser. We saw the great Aboutrekour up close and personal at the Orlando Stadium.
 From that  time the very same Orlando Pirates has been back in the hunt, the well funded Mamelodi Sundowns has won it and now Eric Tinkler will seat on the bench for another Africa club competition final. Supersport now broadcasts Champions League and Confederations Cup matches. The journos with more than just a handful of followers like us now also spread the news and travel the continent.  The tide has turned.
What brought about this change of attitude form South African clubs?
Well, firstly, under the leadership of that rather stubborn and biased man from somewhere in the West of Africa, Issa Hayatou, CAF did not give a hoot what South Africa wanted in terms of African football. CAF were not going to change the calendar to suit South Africa. South Africa were not given super power status in footballing Africa. So sulking and treating club competitions with disdain did not work.
Secondly, Supersport broadcasting the games meant being seen by the over-critical fans of South Africa. Kaizer Chiefs still get ridiculed for being beaten by a ASEC Mimosas side that had not won a single match in their own league. Being seen on continental television being beaten by teams from Africa is no-no.
 Orlando Pirates' feats withstanding, it has being more a case of South Africa failing to get its way on the continent than anything else. If can`t beat them, you have join them.


 

Deaaaarby oh Derby.

Casting my mind back to Saturday afternoon inside FNB Stadium I distinctly remember Mathoho dribbling Kutumelo after just about 4 minutes of play. I remember Thabo Qalinge going for a rather fancy shot and hitting the crossbar rather ferociously when a tap in looked spot on. Morrison took me back to the Hand of God incident involving the now extremely chubby Maradona when any other part of his body could have resulted in a 1 nil lead for Orlando Pirates. Trying to remember any other notable footballing moments during the Soweto Derby has resulted in a notable headache.
 It`s like the two teams get together the night before and actually brainstorm on how to make the match exciting BUT make sure it ends in a draw. How does this fixture end up in so many draws.
 Granted it`s not that difficult to get over 80 000 fanatics into a state of excitement. A routine save by the one dubbed 'The Humble One' gets roars. Thabo Rakhale dribbling himself is an event that attracts thousands of whistles and cheers.
 Actually, off the field is where it all happens when it comes to the Soweto Derby. By the first 21 minutes, security  details had all but failed to keep the isles between the seats devoid of people. On the field Pirates had all but failed to fashion a shot on target despite having Chiefs camped in their own half for 19 of those opening 21 minutes.
 For those 21 minutes I had thought that the majority of the Pirates fans were seating directly opposite the player entrance tunnel as it a small sea of red t-shirts over there. Tholukhuti it was some lucky fans that were wearing the WozaNazo tops handed out by Absa.
 Creativity has to come to the fore for the journalist that have to pen a match report for this game and it is also a must for those that choose the man of the match. Qalinga did hit the ball towards the opposition`s goalkeeper more than any other player on the day so I suppose he was an obvious choice.
 There is an increasing number of fans that come to the stadium dressed in full playing kit and then get up every few minutes and go through a whole warm up procedure. A couple could actually put up a better footballing performance that what was on display from those actually paid to put the full kit.
 Tshabalala`s right leg once again reminded all and sundry that it is not weak but dead.
 Morrison, the diminutive striker that Pirates were hoping would score bags of goals, had the ball in the net twice. Both times he thought the ref would be be duped. Both times he was wrong. Even Katsande pointed out the striker`s lack of use of the space between his ears.
 All in all it was a rather woeful game of football that was saved by the great atmosphere created by hoardes of football loving humans who still believe that Kaizer Chiefs versus Orlando Pirates is the only game worth attending on the Premier Soccer League calender.

CHRIS CORNER: Of Mangobe Derby

CHRIS CORNER: Of Mangobe Derby

Of Mangobe Derby

Due to a major technical fault in my Financial Machinery I did not have a single monetary cent to resource my transportation to the FNB Stadium. Metrorail in it`s wisdom had not provided special trains from the East Rand or from anywhere else for that matter(except Prak Station). I did not know this for I had magically forgotten to check the email facility for any press releases regarding such matters.
Having lived in close vicinity to train stations for quite some time now I decided to use the method used by many of my African brothers and sisters to get to and from work everyday....the Mangobe ride. Simple really, you do not use the prescribed gates to get onto the train platform and by so doing you do not partake in the ticket buying ceremonies.
I planted myself on the platform at the almost perfect time as I only had to sit for 7 minutes before the gong sounded and a perfectly sounding woman announced that the train to Johannesburg would be arriving shortly. The only worry now was the dreaded white flag. A white flag meant that the journey would end at a law enforcement office somewhere or I would have to put my train cleaning skills to good use. The lack of Pirates or Chiefs regalia on this train also worried me. The Soweto is supposed to bring all of football mad train users out! This one clearly didn`t. A very noisy group jumped on the train a few stops after to bring down my worry-meter. In their midst were two gentlemen wearing Kaizer Chiefs tops. They clearly had not seen a Metrorail cashier too. No white flag.
At Park Station Orlando Pirates and Kaizer Chiefs tops were clearly more visible and they were all heading towards one platform, I duly followed with a great weight lifted. One part of this all important journey done. Down to the platforms I went. A large group of SAPS` finest and fattest occupied a few benches at the same platform. I was criminal at this point so I did my best not to look at them. This was not easy for they were holding a rather impressive array of take-away foods. I made myself look organised by a taking a few paces in all directions and looking at my cellphone and making the odd fake call.
The gong sounded and the announcement was made that our special train to the stadium was arriving imminently. A small group wearing PRASA bibs duly arrived and starting whispering and pointing...this was not good. The train pulled up and the cops got up from their seats to also get into the train. Panick! Two of the blue wearing gents situated themselves on the door. This was not going to end well. Those PRASA people gave each other final instructions and hoped onto the train as whistle went, how I wished it the kick off whistle and I was already seated inside the Calabash. When two of those wearing PRASA bibs starting a discussion with the cops in our section I had thoughts of all the lies I would tell them about what happened to my ticket. I made a few more fake calls and sent countless fake messages. Turned out nobody wanted to check my ticket.
I was one of the first to alight and therefore became one of the first to see the bevvy of ticket checkers that were stationed at the gates of Nasrec Station. I made half a U-turn, started to frantically press my cellphone as I thought of how I should have jumped off at one of the many stops the train made in the velds around the stadium. The obvious getaway was the toilet. As I made my way to make answer a non-existant call of nature I heard a man announce that the first train back to Park Station would be at 6pm. I would probably have to wait in the toilet until then...
Then divine intervention, one those nice people from PRASA told those pesky ticket checkers to let the people go! I didn`t quite catch this glorious announcement as I was `busy on the phone` pacing up and down.
One of the ticket checkers saw me going up and down the stairs with cell to ear and tried to catch my attention with very little success. When she did finally catch up to me I gave a detailed account of how my `wife and kid` had left me behind and was a bit lost as to how to get into the stadium. Of course the wife had carried the train tickets with her.. I was also trying to get hold of a colleague who had my accreditation. This last part was true. The colleague in question just happened to be unavailable on his cellphone. It was not going well. If I had heard the call to allow people to go out of the station without tickets I would have avoided all this but I didn`t. I made a real call this time to try and get the guy with my accreditation to come rescue me but a man on the other end welcomed me to voicemail yet again.
My journey to my first Soweto Derby after two years had seemingly come to end only meters away from the entrance.
The female ticket checker then took back upstairs and directed me out the gate. All that pacing for nothing!