He is likened by many of his devoted South African followers to a persuasive soccer version of Rhema’s Pastor Ray McCauley.
Matsilela Ephraim Sono, affectionately known as Jomo Sono and lumped with the moniker of ”Black Prince” during his often spectacular and acclaimed playing career, waits at this moment for the fulfilment of his calling as Bafana Bafana coach at the World Cup on home soil in 2010.
Whether the multi-faceted business entrepreneur and paradoxical icon of local sport achieves what may well be his ultimate ambition, is open to a great deal of conjecture.
Sono is certainly a legitimate dark-horse candidate. His regiments of zealous, unwavering supporters see him as nothing less than the saviour of South African soccer.
But his detractors — and they are not inconsiderable — perceive him as a charlatan for supposedly coveting the testing, time-consuming and far-reaching position of national coach when he is committed to dozens of other enterprises.
These include owning, managing and coaching Jomo Cosmos, holding a 50% shareholding in a golf course, sitting on the board of directors of an assortment of major conglomerates and investing as a significant financial partner in many more portfolios.
Black empowerment has been kind to the enterprising Sono and his variety of interests includes hospitality (Formula 1), fuel (Sasol), civil engineering (Entech), motor parts (Midas) and a diamond consortium. He was even president of an oil company at one time and sat on the board of African Bank.
Sono does not see this hectic involvement, which might test the staying power of 10 other individuals, as detrimental to being an effective Bafana coach. But ”The Black Prince” is adamant he has not — and will not — apply for the much-publicised, debated and invariably controversial post.
”Why should I?” he asks. ”They know me and they know my record. If Safa are interested, I believe they have my phone number.”
And Sono points out that he has received numerous such calls in the past — among them those for the 1998 African Nations Cup and the 2002 World Cup.
In the meantime, however, Sono is lying low. Tactically it is probably a smart move. He must be aware that the road to a rewarding, long-term tenure — no matter who and how qualified the successful candidate might be — is paved with pitfalls.
And with Safa providing scant evidence of emerging from an ongoing mire of confusion, the next coach could also end up packing his bags prematurely — with Sono getting the late call he knows so well.
It is also smart of Sono to proclaim that if he gets the World Cup job it will have to be on his terms. ”I would want my own technical staff,” he insists, ”and that’s from top to bottom. If I ever occupy the hot seat and carry the can, I’ll want to rise or fall by my own decisions.”
His business interests, he insists, are not in the ”hands-on” category and would not interfere with any Bafana commitments.
As for Jomo Cosmos, Sono says, he has already enlisted a competent complement of coaches and administrators to run the club — and he would merely oversee operations.
But recall that in 1998 he took what might politely be construed as the unorthodox step of departing from the Bafana camp in Burkina Faso in mid-stream to return to South Africa for a week.
Despite this questionable excursion, Bafana reached the final and emerged with a good deal of credit.
Born in Orlando East on the outskirts of Johannesburg on July 17 1955, Sono was left in the care of his ailing grandparents at the age of eight after his father, Eric ”Scara” Sono, an Orlando Pirates hero, died in a vehicle accident.
He recalls how he sold apples and peanuts at soccer games and railway stations to buy clothes — soon acquiring the streetwise characteristics that were to benefit him as a player, coach and administrator. Apart from his skill as a mesmerising midfielder or striker, Sono has become especially skilled in identifying talent — and utilising it to maximum financial advantage for himself and the players concerned.
That Sono possesses the credentials to be Bafana coach in 2010 when the attention of the world will be on South Africa is not questioned. More relevant is whether he has the enduring grit, determination and time for the hard slog ahead.
Astute, eloquent and ring-wise in soccer matters, Sono has enjoyed mixed success as a coach at both club and international level.
In a poll, admittedly of dubious authenticity, he was voted 49th among the top 100 South African greats — and this says a great deal for the man.
Sono, however, has also acquired a reputation for unreliability and betting against him keeping an appointment would, as they say in racing parlance, put you onto a good thing. For a long time I perceived I might have suffered more than others from this trait. But on his recent visit to South Africa, the great Pele disclosed that Sono, with whom he played at New York Cosmos, had made an appointment to see him — and had simply not turned up or offered a perfunctory explanation.
And, if he could stand up Pele, who am I to complain?