When Micho Sredojevic’s contract with Orlando Pirates was mutually terminated last week, the Serbian described how he “felt like Mandela being released from prison”. It is sad that the “grand old lady” of South African soccer has been turned into something of a circus with problems on and off the pitch.
I’ll admit I have a soft spot for Pirates. I find the history of football fascinating and, as they prepare to celebrate their 70th anniversary this year, the club have one of the richest and most interesting histories on the African continent.
They are the club, after all, that played their part in the struggle against apartheid; the club that spawned no less a beast than the mighty Kaizer Chiefs after the breakaway of Kaizer Motaung and other Buccaneers players in 1969. The club is ingrained in Soweto life, and the team brought much joy to hundreds of thousands in a time of great sorrow through the dark days of the 1970s and 1980s.
Perhaps that is why their current plight is all the more distressing, but the club’s management have no one else to blame but themselves. Sredojevic faced the ultimate humiliation when Bibey Mutombo was appointed the club’s director of football and all but took over the running of team affairs, leaving the Serbian with a contract to coach the team, but without the power to do so.
Indeed, for the recent league game against Bloemfontein Celtic that Pirates lost 3-1, Mutombo selected the side and was seen to bark orders from the sidelines while Sredojevic sat alone on the bench. But after the defeat, it was Sredojevic who had to face the media and angry fans to defend a side over which he had no real influence. No wonder he was happy to walk away.
It is a well-worn ploy by club bosses. To fire a coach means to pay him out the remainder of his contract, which could run into millions of rands. The easy answer is to make his working environment intolerable and “force” him to walk away.
The appointment of Mutombo above Sredojevic was always going to see the former Black Leopards coach take full charge of the team; it was just a matter of time. We should not be surprised, though, as Mutombo is — incredibly — the 30th man to coach of Pirates since 1990. That is a statistic that says more about club chairperson Irvin Khoza and his board than it does about the calibre of the men they hire.
This chopping and changing has, I believe, contributed to their current plight. At the time of writing, they were level on points with the bottom club in the Premier Soccer League after 13 matches — an unheard-of statistic. Continuity is key in football, and the truly successful clubs worldwide are willing to ride out the tough times in exchange for achieving their long-term goals.
An example of this would be Alex Ferguson at Manchester United, who took seven seasons to bring the league title to Old Trafford. Now, after 20 years at the helm, he is the most successful manager in British football history.
Pirates’ decision to opt out of this year’s CAF Champions League competition is also a poor one, I believe. Aside from being the premier cup competition on the continent, it also provides a path — for the successful team — to the World Club Championships in Japan and $1-million (R7-million) in prize money. What does it say about the image of South African football on the continent when one of our top clubs deem the competition not worthy of their participation?
Pirates claim that the scheduling of matches means they will be playing too much football, but with a squad as large as theirs, this should not be a problem. Top European clubs involved in their continental competitions play more than 60 matches in a season. Pirates will not get anywhere near that number. They have let us down.
It should also be of concern to South African fans that Pirates have among their ranks some of the most talented footballers in the country — the likes of Gift Leremi, Benedict Vilakazi, Joseph Makhanya, Jabu Mahlangu and Lebohang Mokoena — yet seem unable to control them off the pitch, with numerous incidents being reported in the media in the past couple of months.
We have to ask: Are these footballing assets of ours in the best possible hands? The answer would have to be no, sadly. For many years, Pirates (along with Chiefs) were held up as the pinnacle of professionalism and a benchmark for other clubs to follow.
That is no longer the case.
Nick Said is editor: special projects for Kick Off magazine