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Aflao Keyiborme Unity league: The exciting football hub where talents are untapped
The sun was up, shining, kissing and straightening wrinkled, disarrayed faces and burning bleached skins. A usual day in the border town. “Tsi ma dza ma dza, baba di diim”. Said someone walking hurriedly past me to buy a handkerchief before the match kicked off. No native indeed would want to miss any action of this match for anything. Not even casual sex. Predictably hours into the final games. Patrons packed, clouded in their various house attires, a majority in their favorite team’s jerseys. Light green and blue colored. Blue jerseys are worn by team LA Liga, light green by team Onze Leopard.
Spectators hurrying their ways to secure their sitting place. It’s no doubt football and the game of soccer has since been the town’s birthright. A commodity imported but has become a thing they do with love, excitement, importance, and above all passion. “M) f) me nya, ma xe ga dzin a mat) ne ma kp) nye ntor nye be ame w) a? “. A junkie like guy said. The sharp savage and cheek replies are expected more in gatherings like this. People burst into uncontrollable laughter. Their laughter indirectly calls the lady selling the tickets at the gate a sense of reasoning a thing of loss.
I love hearing more of these savage replies, especially in our parlance. Because they have become my source of belonging and taste of stubbornness. I would have paid, but I had a pre-printed receipt of my own worn from the house. The Beat 9 hoodie. “oo Gbolo, you can enter”. The slim, fair business-minded lady said to me and my friends. She gave us a pass.
In the mammoth crowd, I could hardly hear the commentator’s voice. Especially from where I stood. Plus some fans and patrons were blowing their vuvuzelas while others argued among themselves which team was best fit to win the ultimate prize. “But I swear Aflao get population to be her own municipality.”. Brain said confidently, watching from behind me. “Very soon, we will be welcoming some dignitaries.” The commentator said. I heard him this time because my concentration was only on him and the direction the wind sends his voice.
Accompanied by police and other security personnel, the man who would later be kicking the ball in the centerline for the competition to finally start and would be waving to the spectators came in a black tracksuit, white shirt, and a sports kick. Former Deputy Minister of youths and sports. Honorable Afriyie Ankrah. The hairs in the middle of his head looked shaved and swept. Medically, you could call it alopecia as a differential diagnosis. The sun had had enough mercy. The players moved from behind the spectators walking the street from the school (Aflao Border Basic School) and finally to the park in their jerseys, customized in elegance with their names.
.”Promi d3?”. Promi d3?! Promi d3?. . Fans of Onz Leopard and the talented striker asked each other rhetorically. A childhood player I predicted and hoped would someday play in the LA Liga because he’ll be the only player to watch. Talk of speed, dribbling, pass, pace, and the wonder at which he makes scoring goals look easy. It looks like Promise, who we call “Promi” also known as Kakadinho, wouldn’t be playing in the finals. Barson, also known as Tino. The first name my stretched eyes had seen with the number 12 jersey. Another childhood player of mine completes the loved one has for football when he and Promi are playing together. A threatening striker and player we were hoping to score in the finals and make us proud. The real reason the name Barson became, was among the dignitaries. Assemblyman for Agokpanu electoral area. Mr. Barson, popularly known as Foli.
Prrrrrrrr! Piiiiiiiin! From the center, the referee, a woman, began officiating the match. It’s not the first time, her likes had been officiating the most crucial league matches before now the finals. I grew watching her officiate matches with full discipline without a pinch of controversies. Call it woman empowerment. Players moved to wave to their fans in love and oneness. Expectations were on the pedestal, hopes from both fans and supporters of the two teams were exceedingly on the ladder. “I am in high hopes to see my team, Onz Leopard FC lifts the trophy. I’m here to enjoy good and beautiful football regardless of how the result goes .” My expectations of the match were when I was asked by nobody.
Gooal! The first goal came from Barson, the supporting striker from the side of the team(Onz Leopard) playing left to the right side watching from where we stood. A rebound from a long shoot from Tony, the standing striker. “Tino pulled a “Thomas Muller” on them just for the first 12 minutes. Brain.” I said laughingly .” That’s a real striker goal. He’s indeed fully prepared for the finals”. He replied. Fans ran onto the field, rejoicing, running, and chasing the scorer of the goal with money of different denominations. My brother, Pages, had forgotten he had sustained a wound on his last toe. He ran onto the field too and came realizing he was hurt.
Piiiiiiiin! A penalty was whistled for a handball by LA Liga’s left-back in the 18 box. About 15 minutes after the first goal. Which many critics from the touchlines say would have probably welcomed stones and beatings somewhere in an uncivilized town. But here is Aflao, we’ve seen and learned from the white people we encounter daily at the border. Though some fans were angry and agitated, nobody attempted soiling the beautiful day that would be talked about for years, in the league’s history.
Few counted steps backward, Barson stood and looked ready to take the penalty. Would he make the history of being the only player to score the fastest ever brace here? All corners checked. Angles, the position of the goalkeeper. Booom! The penalty was punched away by the well-calculated and experienced goalkeeper of LA Liga’s side. Though Onz Leopard was leading, a new hope of winning came to team LA Liga’s side. Ball possession seems to have been favoring LA Liga’s side after the unfortunate penalty missed. It birthed a stunning free-kick outside the 18 box for team LA Liga before the referee finally whistled for the end of the first half which was beautifully taken by the number 8 of the side. A very outstanding player by the standard.
“How will a goalkeeper direct a wall and be hidden under the wall? “. A black guy kept saying angrily while he passed by the touchlines. “Only in Ghana, everybody becomes coach when the players are playing”. I replied in my head with humor. Abaiin! If that’s what Police are called in Twi, then the fat guy sitting in front of me isn’t wrong. “this wanna people gun with cello tape all over around it, these things some no dey up tee oo”. We all laughed out loud.
The groundnut seller was busily selling to her customers. The same were the sweet drinks, bottled water, plantain chips, and other sellers. Weekends here are indeed money-making time for our mothers and some young girls and boys who had to buy themselves school stationeries. Brain and I would think of what would best be done at a certain point in the play. We’ve become the match analysts unknowingly. He would agree to disagree, and sometimes bring his own thoughts on a play too. Which was him finally calling out Barson to stay and Tony plays the supporting striker position.
” He’s doing too much-running amenye! Tony should also do it small so he regains some stamina”. “Are you sure Tony would work and send the ball upfront like Barson was doing?. I asked and my thoughts manifested in the next 15 minutes. Football! Some only watch and scream. But I’m glad we were indeed knowing what was going on the field. Don’t joke with me, I captained the under 12 Ketu South district team consecutively and won the latter competition.
Waiting for the commencement of the second half hasn’t so far been a boring experience. Because it’s either I’m pricking my ears to hear spectators break into arguments, laughter, more savage and cheeky replies. Mostly from my Muslim brother Alhassan speaking the “Adzagbe” as a proud native effortlessly. Though there are sometimes misunderstandings because of the competitive nature of the game, Football had subconsciously bridged the gap between tribe, clan, and above all religion. The game makes you fall in love with no second thoughts.
Amenye! Keeny Ice le moame! Somebody tapped me on the shoulder talking to a plantain chips seller from behind. Goosebumps when I saw the promising formidable rapper putting the rap and good music in line. He and the bucket hat had become like shoes and lace. Brick and Lace, but just that his love for bucket hats isn’t wicked. Cameras all over. People, spectators, and fans of this young talent removed their various brands of phones gathering around him like beehives and bees, like house flies and feces. He performed a payback. With love and appreciation for the support, his people had shown him. I had a proud imaginative futuristic image of him performing in huge stadiums like Maranata, like Bob Marley’s son performing Three Little Birds for Ajax in their stadium.
Because Keeny’s music would become his legacy. Something he would pass on to the next generation. Thank you Aflao for all the support since the beginning of my career, I wouldn’t have been Keeny Ice without you, I love You all. He said finally as he walked freely into the crowd. His performance saw players from both teams walking hurriedly onto the field. Somehow thinking of correcting their mistakes. “But when LA Liga wins this game, it won’t sound fair because Onz Leopard seems to have an upper hand.” Brain said regaining the position he stood before the first half. “I will feel sad for Tino because the critics will be on his neck. I just pray they win no matter what.”. I replied.
Few changes saw Donaldson, Alberto, and Misadzi on the field. Number 10 from the bench from the side of LA Liga also came in as a substitute. Who the fans call “Messi.” The second half became competitively interesting. Both teams were creating chances but wouldn’t fulfill the determinant of the match until a free-kick was given right outside the 18 box.
I thought the taker would be Donaldson. But they stood three on the ball. But Donaldson was seen as a suspect to be the taker. Then from nowhere came Tino hitting the back of the net once again with a direct down shot. Hopes were reassured again…! Fans become excited again. I feel the happiness in the part of the brain responsible for having the right feelings. Deep there tastes sweet. I feel very horny. In the crowd, my eyes caught the Anana (Pineapple) juice seller. A die-hard fan of Onz Leopard. How the victory of football tastes sweet and you all of a sudden forget you sell a drink made with sugar.
The goal scorer ran to his father among the dignitaries and slapped him in the palm. As though he told him he would make the critics eat and swallow their words. That was Mason Mount and his father’s moment at the just ended Champions league. Just that, this son(Tino) scored and the other gave the crucial assistance of the night. We were certain, sure. We are fans of Onz Leopard. Tino’s goal had our hand lifting the trophy in spirit and assuredness. The trophy is finally going to our side. It’s going home, not us hiding behind the anthems of the three lions of England, but the fearless Leopards of Aflao Dekeme. It’ll be home!
A call came in. I tried to ignore it so I don’t miss any action. Didn’t know when they kicked the ball from the center when I was glued for seconds on my Techno phone. But my eyes caught a memorable goal from Morata, the dark tough player wearing the number 10 jersey, who would later be announced in the evening as the best player of the tournament. Stunning goal! Absolutely stunning!. I put my phone quickly in my pocket and clapped. That’s how players score goals. Beautiful!
Many chances were created by the side of Onz Leopard. But just like opportunities come to people unprepared, they were heavily missed. You’d admire the strength and power of Tino in the game all through. How he started with the same energy, stamina and ended as though he was about to begin a new game. Man, Tino le gbe dzi ntor, he played the game all!. I heard someone from my side say After the final whistle, security made sure no one entered the field, as the fans usually do in normal games when it’s time for penalties. But nobody dared. We were all in check about watching the penalties. It’ll be tough, but the agility of the goalkeeper from the side of Onze Leopard gave me some confidence.
First, four players had already played for team LA Liga. But five for team Onz Leopard. The goalkeeper from the side of LA Liga saved one of the penalties. He(goalkeeper) is now about to take the last penalty. The winning penalty. Some of us had already given up hope. That we will never know when to get this close to a final and watch our favorite players and team play. Ooooooh! Hmmm! Aaaarrrh! Edefu..! Were everybody’s favorite clichés. Especially the Onz Leopard fans. This goalkeeper will score and that’ll be our end of joy. What will I tell Tino when I meet him later? You couldn’t win us this clear trophy? Hmmm!
He spoil am!!
Yes!
He spoil am!!
Aww Mäwu akpe!
Akpe Mäwu!
Akpe kaakaa!
One of the fans of Onz Leopard knelt in the black sand saying repeatedly and beating his chest passionately. Now I’m glad hoping things will finally look good. The fans had entered the park partially. We’ve crossed our boundaries too. But only when a player was about to take a penalty before we forge ahead. I wouldn’t watch the scene entirely. I’d be on my tiptoes to see what’s happening.
But the final shoot-out after the last player for the LA Liga side’s had taken and spoiled, I maneuvered away through the thick crowd. The captain of the side for LA Liga. Anapo, aka Thiago Sylva. Poised to make history and be the first captain to lift this trophy; this trophy being the reason why their team was made to play and take his father’s former team’s name, Onz Leopard. The passed tall lanky legendary midfielder will not only be proud in his grave but has his soul rest in eternal peace. Tribute to the legendary “Slow”, his father.
Goooaaal! I didn’t even see him take the penalty. But the joyous scream sealed the end to everything. The goalkeeper of the LA Liga side was held in his arms, as though he was paralyzed. Crying like he’s been robbed of something he rightfully deserves. Their three “Kuffour busses” filled with the fans they came with from Avoeme looked emptily rejected. I watched ladies jump and hug the players of the winning side. Something that sparked and seems to have revived this hidden passion I always have for this dream.
I had gathered with my folks to watch how the handing over of the trophy and the individual awards will go. The league had indeed improved and grown. First time in the league’s history, the best goal scorer of the tournament was awarded a golden boot and the best player accordingly. Another proud moment to watch a father being called among the dignitaries to hand over the best goal scorer of the tournament to his son, not because of the son-father relationship, but because his hard work had earned him so much.
After the trophy was handed over to the winning team, the streets choked. Pedestrians couldn’t find the way. Motorcyclists choked every space there is. Football had become this town’s birthright. Football has for the years become the passion this town lingers and leans on. Football is made from England, but talents and the human resource for the game are countlessly born here like tadpoles. Just one astroturf here in this town, we’ll have many stadiums in the future named after some legendary names like the likes of Babayara and Abedi Pele.
Gbo Lo
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Editor-in-Chief at Beenie Words LLC, a Communication Geek, Creative Writer, Strategic and Result Oriented PR Consultant & Freelance Publicist.