Football frenzy is finally over – except maybe in Germany, which even jungle natives know, won the World Cup finals. I am thankful that for a few precious weeks the world had something else besides terrorism and territorial aggression to focus on. Let them play ball, that’s what aliens observing the football mania must have been beaming out across the universe.
I’m not a big sports fan even though I often scored more points for my house than any other female student while in high school. I did well in track and field (was second fastest female runner) and played almost all the games —-scored the most points for our basketball team at one game. I played hockey and volleyball too.
I love the Olympics and since I was in the hospital during the last Olympics I watched lots of it. My own Olympics is fighting to stay alive, I told my nurses, sometimes as I performed my dismount from my bed. The skill that required (and the pain it generated) made getting in and out of bed feel like an Olympic sport. I’m always inspired by the stories of the Olympians, marveling at how they dedicate their lives to becoming among the best in the world in their respective sports.
I am moved by the patriotism that football inspires. I love to watch the touching and crazy ways people express their love for their country. I cried so much many years ago when I watched Nigeria win some big football game —must have been the Men’s football event at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. I listened later to stories about how that win brought instant unity to Nigeria —- across tribal and socio-economic lines. I heard maiguards were hugging their megads and everybody came out to celebrate in the middle of the night. I wish I had been there to soak it all up.
Football whips up patriotism and tests loyalties like no other game. Of course I usually root for Nigeria, the country of my birth or for America my country of residence. When they play each other, it is hard for me to watch. I use this reasoning to break the loyalty tie: America already has much more that it excels at, including the Olympic games in which few African countries win medals so let Nigeria win this one game.
When America plays other countries I cheer all out for her. I resented it when a Senegalese housemate was rooting for China during the Olympics Women’s football game many years ago. “Why would you root for China,” I wailed, “when you live in America?” She said China, unlike America, gives aid to Africa with no strings attached. So no accountability is good.
Me and my folks wanted an African country to remain in the World Cup games as long as possible, but when they were all eliminated we wondered which country to root for. “We root for America.” I said. Somebody else chose Brazil. “But we don’t live in Brazil,” I said “and a good showing by America at the games would do a lot to popularise football in America.”
When Brazil came up against Germany, I was at first going to go all out for them (because of Pele and their historic ties to Africa) but fond memories of my visit to Germany in 1989 bubbled up and made the choice a little more difficult. But my heart did go out to Brazil after Germany played them like samba beating them 7-1.
To make it easier for me to choose what country to root for I will start using the piety expression test. If the players kneel down and make the sign of the cross, I will root for their team over their opponent. But what if both teams score well on the test?
My trip to Germany is possibly my most memorable. It was during a break in summer school in France that my classmates, Jenny and Ricky, invited me to join them on a drive to Germany. I was grateful they wanted my company because most of my other classmates paid me (one of only two students from Africa) no mind.
When we got to the gate leading into Berlin we saw signs indicating different entrances for different countries. We went to the one for the U.S and allied forces. When the security officers said I didn’t belong at that gate, I told them that people from Nigeria, including my uncle, fought alongside the Allied forces and their services must be acknowledged. Much to my surprise they asked, “What’s your uncle’s name?” Before I could come up with a name they let me go through the Allied gate.
I take some credit for helping to bring down the Berlin wall and I long to tell you more about this someday. So I helped bring about Germany’s World Cup victory because they could not have won if they had remained divided by the wall. By the time our German adventure ended, I had said “ we don’t do that where I come from” so many times that both my friends started saying the same thing.
