Since the 2010 World Cup ended in a burst of red confetti and a flurry of retreating octopus tentacles one month ago, I’ve transferred my allegiances to local football. A combination of Siphiwe Tshabalala’s left peg, shiny new toys like Rea Vaya and Soccer City, and a happy month-long acquaintance with Philip (eet ees heeere!) made me dismount from my English Premier League-supporting high horse and adopt a South African club.
The next step was fraught with difficulty: which club would it be? I flirted briefly with the idea of Orlando Pirates — after all, they have the coolest name in the league and were once continental champs. Bloemfontein Celtic sounded fun as well, because people say they have the best fans.
But in the end, I settled for Kaizer Chiefs because Nelson Mandela is a fan and the great man is as good an endorsement as any.
On the day of the league’s curtain-raiser last week, the Telkom Charity Cup, I leapt out of bed like Chiefs keeper Itumeleng Khune clawing away a top corner-bound shot. I ripped my brand-new pumpkin-coloured Chiefs jersey out of its plastic packaging, marvelling briefly at its quality, before hauling it on.
I then slipped the pole out of my South African flag and into my Chiefs one. “Amakhosi for Life”, it says. That’s quite a commitment, I thought, as I headed for the door.
Despite the early hour, downtown Jo’burg was already crawling with Chiefs and Pirates fans (more Chiefs fans, I noted, to my relief). Many fans I spoke to were sampling the convenience of World Cup infrastructure for the first time.
As we stepped on to a Rea Vaya bus, you could have linked the sleek machine to the national power grid, such was the electric atmosphere of anticipation inside as we headed to Soccer City’s colourful calabash.
Although the usual criticism of South African soccer resurfaced — too few goals — each game we saw had its moments of drama.
Chiefs beat Sundowns in the semis and Pirates on penalties in the final — a sequence of results that led one delighted Chiefs fan to quip: “Sundowns for lunch, Pirates for supper, Khosi for life.”
In some ways, the World Cup has not bridged South Africa’s divides. The Soccer City crowd contained very few white, Indian or coloured fans.
But our jovial neighbour, Frank Fume, who travels all over the country supporting Chiefs, told us: “You see how the Pirates and Chiefs fans all sit together? Before the World Cup, that would never have happened.”
I now have a standing invitation from Fume to watch Chiefs with him when the league season begins. Leaving the salubrious expanse of Soccer City for grittier venues like Chiefs’ Rand Stadium holds some trepidation, I admit, but it’s just one more step in my bid to become a true Khosi for life.