Big Mouth: It’s just a game

Wherever young men are gathered I hear them debating, arguing and even quarrelling about who deserved to be awarded the Balon d’or which confers upon the winner the title best player in the world. The Argentine midget has grabbed his sixth. He makes up for his miniature size by being the giant amongst footballers on this planet called earth with his dazzling skills.

Lionel Messi is simply one of those players whose every on-field performance seem really worth watching in slow motion. If your player stops Messi, then your boy has become a man. Some say it is Senegalese slick bomber Sadio Mane who should have won the award and even blame the Africans who took part in the vote saying most of them did not have Sane as the best and some did not even have the Liverpool forward in their top three.

Let’s not get sentimental here, and it does not matter whether it is an African brother or not. Mane has got pace,passion and plays with much of everything and combines well with his striking partners, Salah and Firminho.

He is world class. Now is he the best? Messi wiggles out of the way of defenders, accelerates at astonishing velocity, can conjure a sublime pass from any situation. Ii think the man’s low sense of gravity helps him breeze through any opponent’s defence.




The Mane – Messi debate takes me down memory lane when Didier Drogba and Samuel Eto’o had a cult following. Their fans would argue to the point of sometimes getting into violent confrontations.

“Drogba na who noh?” You will hear them.

“If Eto’o put ball for down, Drogba fit stand?”

While the fans were baring fans at each other, the men were plying their trade. The Cameroonian with Barcelona and the Ivorian with Chelsea. They kept on doing what they were popular for; scoring goals. Commentators went beserk because of the sheer genius of these boys with roots in Africa who had taken the global football scene by storm.

“The stadium is buzzling with expectations as Chelsea come out of the dug-out, their attackers are deadly from range as they are in the box. Didier Drogba is leading the charge this afternoon…” One commentator would be saying at Stamford Bridge, Chelsea’s home grounds.

“Tension and anxiety cackling in the air like electricity as Barcelona’s baby faced killer Eto’o runs into the area and strikes… Oh my word! This is not a warning shot across the bow – this is an open declaration of war… The goal poacher Samuel Eto’o has come here to hunt and he won’t accept to go back with some game and boy, is he dangerous?” They played exhibition football. They were tornadoes, rushing winds that hopped from spot to spot leaving destruction behind.

Defence men were nervous when they had to handle any assignment that involved trying to stop Eto’o or Drogba. Eto’o got four African player of the year awards, Drogba got two but none of them got the ballon d’or – the world’s best player award.

People made a lot of noise about these two arguing heatedly about them. Some would threaten to stab others, meanwhile paparazzi reporters caught them on camera eating out and sharing drinks. When they clash as it is said in football lingo, you see a tremendous sense of camaraderie, like in the quarter-final game of the African Cup of Nations in 2006 pitting Cameroon against Cote d’Ivoire which ended in an Ivorian victory after a post-match shootout.

Football is a mega business with money aplenty. So the big boys who own the clubs and run the various football associations and confederations worldwide know that it is just a game. They play and the fans do the betting and quarrelling. Let us reason a little bit, is Messi the best footballer on earth? According to the facts and the statistics,yes. Yet, my friend Elimbi is twenty. In the Sunday league known in the local parlance here as ‘Sunday Sharp’, Elimbi is sure to score at least a brace.




He will gingerly lift the ball away from the outstretched boots of defenders.He is got blinding speed, magical ball skills. Elimbi is a sorcerer and the ball is under his spell. Oh My! There is talent in abundance but no motivation to match it. But, who knows Elimbi? Even if Elimbi scores two hundred goals a game, who cares?

Whether he dribbles the entire field of play plus the spectators, who cares? And whether Messi and Ronaldo win fifty ballon d’or awards, and so what? Why quarrel to the point of fighting? Whether you play professional football in Ukraine or Azerbaijan or the Mauritius Islands or France or England or Italy, so what? Ronaldo has to gone to Italian giants Juventus and some people dare say why can’t Messi move to another club, so that they know who has got the real deal.

The truth is, football is just a game, you are either a big player or a mere spectator, but it’s just a game. Elimbi is the world’s best player to me and he is not in the big leagues.

By Winston LEBGA

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