Tag: Ghana

45. On Pain and Going Home

45. On Pain and Going Home

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Dear Boys,

If you boys end up sports fans, especially sports fans like me, you are going to have some hard defeats to swallow. The Vikings Wide Right? Sid Bream scoring from first on Barry Bonds? Basically any Yankees-Twins game?

But more than almost any other, when I think about the hardest losses, I think back to a match I watched on a warm, dark, night, with a plate of jollof rice, a roasted tilapia, a wine cooler, and a bunch of new friends.

I think about the “New Hand of God”, the last chance for “the hope of Africa”, I think about Luis Suarez v. Ghana in 2010.

Always an Ant. Love WASS

I had spent a month interviewing young Ghanaian student/actors about their sense of national identity and teaching Literature and Composition classes at a local high school ( “Playing the Part” pub. 2011 Bowling Green State University). At night, I’d call your mother, then my fiancee, and transcribe interviews while watching matches from the World Cup in South Africa.

A few days before, the US had been bested by Ghana…again. I’d been roundly jeered and jostled by every Ghanaian I lived near, worked with, and taught. By the next match, Friday, July 2nd, we were all friends again, and I was taking the night off from interviews to talk to the love of my life and watch the Black Stars.

It was…horrible. First there was the lead, the baffling long-distance strike from Sully Muntari. Then the anxious despair to stop any goals from the talented tandem of Diego Forlan and Luis Suarez. When Forlan equalized it seemed to doom us all. But the Ghanaians grew into the match, asserting themselves again and pushing on. When John Pantsil lined up the free kick it felt inevitable, and to see Stephen Appiah and Dominic Adiyiyah pounce, we were bubbling to burst into cheers.

Then…disbelief. Agony. Anger. Defeat. Suarez had stopped a clear goal with his hand. It was unfair, unjust, unbelievable. Instead of celebrating a hard fought but well earned victory, it was back to the penalty spot for baby striker, Asamoah Gyan.

I think it was Adama, my host teacher, pacing in front of the bar, who said, “no, no…not Gyan…he’s too excited-oh…”. And then…a clanging crossbar, an obviously agonizing penalty kick defeat, and a long, echoing, bitter silence. A painful feeling in a place that was so often music, and noise, and joy to see you.

That was a hard loss. It wasn’t just clearly hard for the players, or hard for me as a fan, it was hard because one whole nation, and so many more across the continent felt it. But, as with all things, it comes with a lesson.

We are marked by our pain, both in scars and in strength.

10 years on from that there’s been a recent spate of writing about the loss and the team that suffered it. But the story that comes to mind the most, is Homegoing , the American Book Award winning novel that has nothing to do with soccer, and everything to do with pain.

The book chronicles two families carrying the long legacy of trauma and tragedy from the golden coast of Ghana all the way to Stanford University and back again. It is beautiful, heartbreaking, and important.

Soccer isn’t that important.

Certainly a match ten years ago is nothing next to generations of stories and legends. However, there’s something about Homegoing that reminds us of the strength that comes with struggle. That through pain and degradation and angst come both our fears and concerns, as well as our strength and ability.

Asamoah Gyan went home last week. He’s said to have watched the match, and his failure at the spot dozens of times. It hurts me as a passive observer to watch it, and Gyan…it hurts him more.

I wish the match could happen again because it really hurts me every time when I’m alone. It’s something that I can never forget. I watch it over and over and over again and hope one day I can turn things around and make people happy.

–Asamoah Gyan (2014)
Baby Jet’s Return (Legon Cities FC)

But that’s the thing. The memory hurts (he stopped taking penalties for the team shortly afterward) but it also encouraged him to set a goal, a goal he’s chasing now in Legon. A goal he’s chasing down the street from where I watched him miss, from where that echoing silence seemed to bury us.

It may have scarred Asamoah Gyan, but it also strengthened him. I hope your most painful moments do the same.

2. Making the Most of New Beginnings

2. Making the Most of New Beginnings

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Dear Boys,

Some things are special. They might seem every day or inconsequential to others, but to you they grab your attention, fill your heart with hope, and offer a new beginning for a long standing love.

Owen, at two months old, this is probably any time you hear a play mat toy jingle. Alex, any bus related noises (particularly beeping and break hissing) demands commentary so that others might know that “that’s a bus” and tell you “where the bus go?”. For me, it’s any time someone or something alludes to Ghana.

While for other parts of the world, I have affection, fondness, or appreciation, with Ghana (and Montana) it is love. Pure and simple love. So when it comes up in daily life, it fills me with hope that this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, or a great conversation, or the chance to get my hands on some high quality nkatekwan (peanut stew).

I’m still not over this…

I’m starting this blog, at the same time Ghanaian soccer is starting a new beginning of its own. For most of its past, Ghanaian soccer was the story of a great team and a star player (Abedidi Pele) who rarely had the chance to shine on the global stage (thanks ingrained FIFA bureaucracy). Then it was the story of an immensely talented team that never reached its full potential (thanks Luis Suarez). But most recently, Ghanaian soccer was the story of staggering corruption and near ruin.

Two years ago a group of Ghanaian journalists, dug deep into the local soccer world and brought to light the 12th Man of Ghanaian soccer: corruption. Referees and executives who played a major part in organizing teams and determined winning teams admitted a willingness to take bribes. (Of the 94 officials investigated, only 3 turned down the bribe).

Anas Arenewat Anas and Kwesi Nyantaki
(The journalist and power broker at the center of the scandal)

Most discouraging of all was the head of the game in Ghana, Kwesi Nyantaki, a banker and lawyer who had overseen some of the country’s greatest triumphs, but who also crowed about using the nation’s President to get deals done and make more money. He resigned. He forfeited ownership of his own team (side note: if someone makes the rules and owns a team that profits from them, you shouldn’t be surprised when they turn out to be self-dealing.) Then, he was banned for life from all soccer activities.

The country and its favorite game were shaken. The organizing body was disbanded. The triumphant national team went on hiatus. And the national league was cancelled.

Just before the new year, the league started again, and Nyantaki’s old team was re-formed in a new city for its own new beginning. As Legon Cities FC, they are what I like to think of when I think of new beginnings. I hope, when you face new beginnings, you’ll do it like Legon Cities FC: with optimism and gratitude.

Think of new beginnings like you think of play mat toys jingling, or wheels on a bus squealing. You have hope in that moment of something new, something remarkable, as long as you approach it with optimism.

For Legon Cities, there are new fans, new hopes and new energy. Every social media post is hashtaged “#We Deliver” or “#BringBacktheLove” everything is possible, everything can be done. In this new beginning, all things are possible. Pessimism is not allowed. Every match, every kick, deserves an optimistic eye.

At the same time, new chances aren’t always on offer. Sometimes we succumb to the trap of thinking we deserve it, or just being glad for it without realizing that we have it through the grace of others. So please, practice gratitude for the new beginning.

The bell jingles because you’re there again, and because your mom helped you get there. The bus sounds because the driver made a stop. The chance to restart a team, a league, a love of the game, it all comes down to fans. Legon Cities knows that and shows that. Y’all can do the same.

To be sure, this second chance came about not because of contrition, or apologies, or a desire to change, but because one businessman saw the opportunity to take over where another had failed. Richard King Attipoe, the club’s new owner has splashed serious cash into his investment, trying to, in the eyes of competitors, buy his way into a title.

But the truth is that Attipoe did something that had to be done. He seized a new beginning and did so while letting go of assumptions of the past. Legon Cities isn’t just a flashy new team, it’s a team that is exploring new media, new fan engagement, new promotions (with dance hall music stars popping up to perform at every home match). Attipoe has done what Bill Veeck used to do in American baseball, drawing people with a game plus bread and circuses rather than just the game and a long still silence.

New beginnings bring hope, whether they come gilded with an owner’s gold, or just arrive when you least expect it. But they do not last long, so boys, take it when it comes, approach it with optimism and gratitude and do what you can.

Oh, and Alex, like Legon Cities, you can approach it with a really nice bus.