WOES OF A JABULANI BALL

I am Ghana I never let Africa down Never have Never will Ask Mandela

Forget the scores. Fry FIFA. Freeze history. All because it is the first Friday in July 2010. The lesson of the day? History has two versions- the one which happened and the one which should have. And on the night Ghana lost to Uruguay in the 2010 World Cup, Africa at the threshold of the semi-finals is the living history.

The Jabulani flew up, grazed the post and went up, up and out with our dreams. A nation’s heart was cracked. No need for pretence. If you are reading this with hurt feelings I was writing with teary eyes. For once, during the tournament, Sultry Shakira’s ‘’Waka waka’’ did not sound sweet. As for K’naan’s ‘‘Waving Flag’’ chorus, nothing could be more jarring.

For us in Ghana, ‘’disappointment’’ is no longer an abstract noun but a physical pain that we have nursed since the dying seconds of a 120 minute-drama that saw a series of quick events drown our dreams. After the match, Coach Milovan’s theoretical ‘‘this is football’’ explanation would not heal a nation. We have to complete the therapy.

So let us let it out, folks. I need to throw a few things at who, I don’t care. Oh, yes, Africa. What a sorry place. Once again, an entire continent was looking for a hero in Ghana. Ghana must beat Uruguay. Ghana must go to the semifinals. Ghana must wipe Africa’s shame. Ghana must this, Ghana must that. Why should it always be Ghana? Quick flashback: in the last World Cup, Ghana was also the only African country to have gone beyond the group stage. There are 53 countries. There were six of us at the tournament, including the host nation. What did South Africa do? Where was La Cote d’Ivoire? Which manner of men played for Nigeria? Who sent Algeria there? How could Cameroun stoop so low? Why should it always be Ghana bailing out this continent? Well, I have got news for Africa. Kwame Nkrumah’s Ghana need not reach the 2010 World Cup semifinals to become the hero. We have always been champions. It is ingrained in our genes. So don’t cry for me, Africa.

What a continent! When others lump us up we complain. We blame them for their ignorance and assert our respective sovereignties. Yet we are quick to cower together behind a single country when a whiff of glory is in the air. OK, so everyone knows Ghana pioneered Pan-Africanism. (‘‘I still know there is hope in the Black Stars’’ said a text message I received after the match from a friend in Barbados). But that does not excuse this African paradox.

What happened to our twinkle, twinkle little stars was that, on the field, they had to carry the burden of an entire continent on their young shoulders. How cruel. Suddenly, all sorts of bored and recycled African organisations found it opportunistic to tag into a Black Stars semifinal berth.

When they were playing Ghana, Uruguay was not doing it in the name of South America. Against Paraguay, Japan was not fighting for Asia. And when the Germany ‘’machine’’ was blitzkrieging Argentina 4-0 they were doing it for the sake of their Vaterland.

I suspect the ghosts of Kwame Nkrumah and Marcus Garvey would be hovering above me with reprimand. But even these two would understand that on this continent we are not the only stars. In fact, foxes, lions, eagles, and elephants have all paraded and trumpeted their virtues, n’est ce pas?

Can I break it down? If this continent must up its game and earn global respect, each country must up its individual game. Simple.

For all those who predicted that Ghana was going to win the World Cup, I doff my hat. You are prophets in your own right. After Uruguay, the Netherlands would have been our easiest conquest. Then at the finals even FIFA, would have their hearts pounding for us (if for nothing at all, for the good of the game). Something really happened on the way to Heaven, that Friday.

The Jabulani flew up, grazed the post and went up, up and out with our dreams. But it didn’t end there because this epic tragedy keeps coming back. It is the kind of scene that replays in your mental video.

It was the last kick of extra time. But leading to that so much had happened. The imminence of penalty kicks, a missed goal, a hand ball, a red card... All in the spate of a few seconds. Players and fans alike did not have time to take it all in. The Jabulani ball was shot up, at an angle meant for the roof of the net. It was all so familiar. The kicker, Asamoah Gyan had done it same way, successfully, before.

As the ball continued its trajectory, the goalkeeper was clearly beaten. In the background, a partisan crowd bleated, practically to shoo the ball in. We widen our eyes. The world stood still. At crunch time the ball refused to take the critical dip under the post. Wickedly, the Jabulani hit the bar and went up, 90 degrees. Before one could say ‘’vuvuzela’’, it was over.

Has anyone seen Asamoah Gyan lately? I saw him on TV dancing, though less energetically. When Gyan told the BBC, ‘‘I don’t think I am worried’’, many doubted it. Now, he appears to be handling it well. Still, let us keep him in our prayers. That boy is probably scarred for life.

Again, Africa is part of the reason. Had one or two other teams been in the reckoning the pressure would have been much less. In our eagerness to ’’rescue Mother Africa’’ we the Ghanaian people also played along. If we feel so much hurt it is because we were all caught up in that save-the- continent agenda. Now we are experiencing twice the pain.

In a sense, we are like the English. At each soccer tournament the Merry England folks gear themselves up big time. Fuelled by a pub culture and roared on by a loud press, they declare their own version of ‘‘Ke naako.’’ It is time for the Brits to show the world who invented the game. But too often, they have had to fold up the Union Jack too soon. Their lesson: it is one thing hosting a prestigious soccer league and another presenting an unbeatable national side. For Ghana, the lesson to learn may be a bit more complicated. Self knowledge. In this very important international enterprise, self knowledge precedes all. It comes even before team strategy.

As a people, the ability to focus is part of our bane. This has been a weak point for our soccer players. Many of the factors that affect our team’s concentration during a tournament happen off the field. The point being made here is that managing the physical and psychological environment of our ‘’boys at war’’ is serious business. It involves understanding each player as well as assessing how emerging issues would impact the entire team.

We may have to re-examine the management of the environment of the team in camp. For instance, morale boosting is good. However, psychologist would tell you that when the stakes to perform become too high all the human body does is recoil naturally to its, neutral, ‘‘I am only human’’ mode.

Just for an example, our Venerable Nelson Mandela is larger than life. Could the Madiba’s invitation to party have been kept from the boys (as a pleasant surprise) until after the game? I cite this for a personal, if not shallow reason. If I, an eager writer, is informed just before writing an exam that I will be meeting Mandela, chances remain that I may, be bowled over with over-excitement.

Then there is the issue of how our boys psyche up before matches. Are we sure that the active drumming and the shi’ing of jama by players who have 90 minutes of physical engagement ahead of them is the best? It is on record that after Brazil had beaten Ghana 3-0 at the last World Cup, our opponents expressed shock at the fact that prior to the match our Black Stars spent excessive energy singing and praying.

By the quarter final stage of CAN 2008 held in Accra our boys in camp had became much exposed to public intrusion. Most of the time, the crowd was within their camp. The hotel location at a busy traffic area facilitated the goings and comings. The players themselves even found time and the resources to organise a birthday party, remember. The distractions were such that one would have thought the shifting of camp to a quieter place was an option.

Prior to Inter Milan’s triumphant Champions League encounter against Bayern Munich, coach Jose Murinho told the world that the purest form of soccer is at club international level. The issues of professionalism surely account for his stance. Can our national team pick a few lessons from this? Talking about The Special One reminds me of our compatriot Balloteli. Do we really need this boy in our Black Stars?

If yes, let us reach out one last time for him. The key word to woo Balloteli must be R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Here is a young, impressionable man who is trying to build his career. He may be a star but as a person, he has his fears and failings. In fact, he has his reasons for saying no to Ghana. The new overtures must be kept out of the media glare. It must also be expressed to him that the right to say yes or no are his and would be respected. The player must be encouraged to articulate his concerns. If it would work, his family angle could be explored. By the way, has he been invited to an all-expense-paid, quiet, leisure trip to Ghana?

By all standards the 2010 World Cup has been an unusual one with an unusual ball. The Jabulani seems to be the most talked about ball in World Cup history. The first time I heard the word, I couldn’t help but notice that it rhymed with ‘’Fulani.’’ However, more was yet to come. In terms of movement, the Jabulani is just like the Fulani cattle herd, unpredictable.

The ball has caught many a player off guard. In the game against Australia, Asamoah Gyan’s own kinsman, Kinson was dealt a treacherous blow, so was Keeper Rob Green of England and Faouzi Chaouchi of Algeria.

To coach Capello of Team England, the Jabulani is the worst ever to be used at a World Cup. ‘’I’ve seen that the ball arrives really fast and the players are having problems controlling it.’’

But not every player bears the Jabulani a grudge. Czech goalkeeper Petr Cech had some positive comments. He said the ball has good visibility due to the colour design plus it feels good to handle. English midfielder Frank Lampard also happens to be among the few players who are Jabulani-friendly. In fairness, if the Big J was horrible it was horrible for all players. The Jabulani flew up, grazed the post and went up, up and out with our dreams…

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