In the past week or so, when all was quiet and we Ghanaians were ‘sleeping our somewhere,’ we still had one eye open, computing how we could be promoted from the group stage to FIFA Club 32, by the shortest route possible.
After we had humbled England 0-0, here was this country called Croatia coming to spoil our ‘kakalika.’
The problem with Croatia being that their colours (the red and white cross) could be easily confused with the Presbyterian Church of Ghana, who are our brother’s keepers.
But Croatia also posed a dilemma: if we should beat them, trouble for us; should they beat us, trouble for kakalika! How do we come away with World Cup results that would give us a perpetual smile?
Here also was this bad boy called South Africa; if they are allowed a winning spree, they will be encouraged to evict more African immigrants…; if we pray for their defeat and they happen to win, ‘we die finish.’
If they are defeated, we would then get the chance to pay them in their own words, ‘You are finished, go beck, go beck home? Go and fix your soccer.’
Yes, football needs fixing in South Africa. And why not? South Africa had never gone beyond the group stage since 1998. Ghana had done it twice: 2006, 2010, and are almost there, 2026. If the two countries entered the knockout stage 2026, there could be xenophobia war ahead of the African Union. All these calculations were indeed ongoing, both of us quietly afraid of each other. In the interest of world peace, therefore, nature avoided a bloodbath; and how did this happen?
We had an impending match with Croatia, out of which the winner would meet dreadful Ronaldo and his Portugal boys. Should we beat Croatia, our ‘kakalika’ dance may be great but short-lived. Should we then not lose to Croatia? If so, how do we confess our dreams to FIFA?
Ghana then happily lost to Croatia: a defeat many prayed for: a kind of ‘Thank God… we have been spared a Portugal demolition.’
This was a defeat many prayed FIFA would not investigate: a kind of ‘FIFA we have lost, but please don’t go to VAR…’ The night of Ghana-Croatia, the entire soccer village of Philadelphia was quiet: Ghana’s global front was quiet: our teeming supporters across the globe respected the kakalika accord, and muted their voices.
The CNN avoided the temptation of cross checking from Kwaku Bonsam, whether he was on sabbatical leave or he tactically imposed any ‘nolle prosequi’ on our banter with Croatia. There was another dilemma; after Black Stars have beaten Croatia, the subsequent duel with Portugal would be without Thomas Partey who would have visa issues entering Canada to be watchman over Ronaldo.
The way out was simple: let the Black Stars allow Croatia a mutually agreed ‘suuriya’! The 2-1 victory by Croatia over Ghana was therefore understandable.
In the interim, there were dramatic developments. Like the trickster Ananse, mini sized Cape Verde made it to Club 32 without a single win. Specializing in drawn games they humiliated world giants Spain, Uruguay, then Saudi Arabia, and winked their brother Ghana to come along to the elite Club. Verde paved the way for themselves and for Ghana with draws only.
Admitting Ghana and blocking Uruguay was vengeance Ghana has awaited 16 years; and here it came sealed and delivered by West Africa’s Cape Verde, with half million population. 2010 World Cup, Ghana’s chance to enter the semi-finals was stolen by Uruguay’s Suarez whose thieving hand attracted only a slap on the wrist. Reparations for this finally landed last week, when Uruguay was blocked by Cape Verde to allow Ghana up the ladder. Our forthcoming war with Columbia is tough; but IT IS POSSIBLE.
The battle between Canada and the Bafana Boys last Sunday was another wild card. This was a banter which was not Ghana’s business, but it was. We quietly prayed for South Africa to lose and ‘go beck’ by the next available flight. That they would appreciate the joy of ‘going beck’ home at short notice, carrying their suitcases.
This was a match that was easier to sit through. For once you watched a game without palpitation, and without tactical retreats to the washroom. You could even eat dinner throughout the entire match. Happily, both sides had nothing to write home about. Playing like primary school kids, they largely kicked the ball in the stomach direction with everybody chasing the ball to the right and thereafter to the left.
At the 11th hour when you were about to doze off, came the winning goal from Canada, which brought relief to our teeming kakalika fans worldwide. At long last the Bafana Boys were on their way home.
The spontaneous weeping in the camp of South Africa at the blow of the final whistle, was not surprising; and neither were these tears of the crocodile. Bafana Bafana were going ‘beck’ to empty streets, looted stores, and to a football sport that needed fixing. In response to xenophobia chants of ‘Go beck Home’ from Cape Town, came the echo, ‘Go beck home’ coming from the World Cup. Both had 30th June as the deadline.
Bafana Bafana had not only Ba-Fallen; they had also Ba-Finished. Indeed Ba-Gone.
