Tony Yeaboah |
Growing up in the streets of
Accra [capital of Ghana], names that ate my head off - back then - were
players like Nana Arhin-Duah, Charles Taylor, Louis Agyemang, whose
glowing qualities were much like the lighthouse that flooded everywhere,
in the mid-2000s. Few weekends would pass without me yearning to watch a
local league game. The hype and aura were just unreal.
In
a larger though same vein, I trust many Africans of my contemporary
sacrificed numerous activities to savour and patronize their local
matches to the max, not forgetting how much woo was thrown behind their
dear clubs respectively.
Yes - the good old days that!
Abruptly
yet strategically and gradually, the cherished round ball much relished
on the continent by folks, lost steam and gas. Our once loved diet lost
all of its appetite-wetting-ingredients and sugary content.
Debilitating and disheartening enough, only a handful of citizens cared
to still throw their weight behind the game, even up till date.
The
more they make heroes and legends out of our Black-African players
gleefully, they'd perpetually maintain their status as the leading
football-delicacy in our part of the world till an epoch when the
much-anticipated-yet-never-coming revival of the African game takes
seat.
Some new breeze had taken
Africa by storm. We now had a substitute - chalk it off - now a primary
focal point where a new sight was given continental-folks. One providing
almost same, if not more of what we were acquainted with.
Well, enough drama.
Amongst
these new 'leagues of whitemen' the African-folk had embraced, there
was one that was met with an overawing enthusiasm beaming spontaneously,
the faces of Africans. Reasonably, it should be the Dutch Erevedise or
French Ligue 1 given the amount of Blacks in both countries, but it
wasn't the case.
The new delicacy that elicited incessant drool was the English Premier League.
A
league that treated the Black-player as their very own darling-boy.
Legends like Didier Drogba, Tony Yeboah, Bruce Grobbelaar have their
names engraved in golden letters in the annals of the Premier League.
Admittedly, nothing beats the feeling of having another race hailing a
fellow 'race-man' for his commendable exploits. Sometimes, worth
much-heralding a crusade than individuals appreciating themselves for
similar reasons, yet belonging to the same class.
This
epitomizes why many an African support English clubs than teams in the
French Ligue 1 or the Erevidise. You might as well reckon, other top
leagues like Spain's La Liga, Italian Serie A have a number of Africans
steering affairs - but - the racial discrimination often perpetuated by
fans and other white-players alike, make those leagues/clubs
almost-unsupportable from a genuine pan-African point of view.
Not
as though, the English League wholly is devoid of racial abuse
whatsoever, no, but the quantum and heightening effect levelled against
Blacks agreeably isn't on the rife relative to others.
Another
attracting element in English clubs [and the league as a whole], is the
pattern of play. More synonymous to Africa's own - but recycled and
upgraded - blatantly. Little flair and less technique deployed [in
comparison to the German Bundesliga et al]. Pragmatically, kick-and-run.
Exuding robustness, grit and sheer zeal for success whether toiled
for/not. Few will argue with me, that many African teams possess
characteristics bigly different from the aforementioned.
So
indeed, if the English League will forever exhibit these
desiring-attributes [from an African perspective], it sure will never
trail any other league in our sight. The more they make heroes and
legends out of our Black-African players gleefully, they'd perpetually
maintain their status as the leading football-delicacy in our part of
the world till an epoch when the much-anticipated-yet-never-coming
revival of the African game takes seat.