The Saturday before the Confederations Cup started we held a “wake” at my cousin’s house. It was to bid farewell to all the men in the family on the eve of the tournament.
We’d been told in no uncertain terms a few days earlier that we had to relinquish any ties we had with them, as they were no longer available to us in any shape or form for the duration of the football fest.
It was a festive affair with all the women being plied with attention and children being gazed at adoringly by doting dads. At the end of the evening there were some tears as wives, moms and sisters reluctantly parted ways with their menfolk, knowing they were boldly going into the month-long fest of football.
Now, I don’t speak football. I don’t know my midfielder from my defender. When the ref calls for a “corner”, my eyes glaze over in the same way they did when the guy at the car dealership asked for my chassis number. Who was Chassis and where might I find him, I wondered.
However, I’ve never allowed my ignorance to get in the way of my enjoyment of the game. I’m one of those fickle football supporters who get whipped into a frenzy every time there is a major tournament or when the national side is playing. Otherwise my interest or following of the sport is cursory at best.
That’s until this year. I’d never been to a stadium to watch a game but in a period of just four months, I’ve been to two live games. And yes, you guessed correctly, only a man could get me to see so much football.
But I have found myself loving the sense of camaraderie and the effervescent atmosphere in the stadium, even if I don’t always follow what’s happening despite the years of patient effort from my football-mad friends such as talk-show host John Perlman and sports anchor Robert Marawa.
The other reason, though, that I made the trek to the stadium is that I’m a proud and patriotic South African. I’ve completely thrown myself into this tournament because of its significance.
It’s a rare chance to showcase our ability and organisational capacity as a country ahead of the 2010 World Cup. I firmly believe that as part of Team South Africa, it’s important that we all do our bit, whether by attending the games or at the very least showing an interest in the efforts of our national side.
I assumed that as South Africans we were all on the same page on this, but I had a rude awakening on a flight to East London two Saturdays ago. On the bus to the aircraft I overheard a rather disturbing conversation between a middle-aged white man and a woman in her 20s.
While we all waited patiently and quietly on the bus, they were talking loudly (too loudly for a red-eye flight) and unashamedly about what a nuisance the tournament has been. The conversation revolved around how noisy the vuvuzelas were and the man recalled how he rejoiced when Spain beat Bafana Bafana 2-0 in Bloemfontein.
The young blonde woman with a deer-in-the-headlights expression suggested in a guileless manner that if the tickets were made any cheaper, then everyone would go and then there would certainly be riots when “all those people” went to the stadium — and that’s why she would never attend a match.
There was no mistaking what she meant by “all those people”. I was really astonished by this banality, ignorance and downright bigotry. I’m sure such people are in the minority but I found the tone and manner of the discussion very disturbing. Where are the ties that bind us? Where is our sense of nationhood?
It is at moments like these that you realise that our experiment at nation-building has really fallen short. It urgently needs to be galvanised if we are to have a shared vision and dream as a country.
The United States team rose from the doldrums to compete credibly against the best teams in the world. No one expected them to advance beyond the preliminary stages, but they cast aside the negativity to surprise Egypt and Spain and put on a brave fight against Brazil in the final.
I watched the Egypt/USA clash in Rustenburg with two American friends who steadfastly believed in their team even as I chuckled dismissively at their abilities. It is this in-your-face confidence, a blind belief in themselves and most importantly a shared sense of nationhood that makes the US great.
As South Africans we need a big dose of that. It is only when we take pride in who we are and share a common vision that we can become invincible. Support for the national side and being behind the country’s efforts at hosting the 2010 World Cup would be a good place to start.