My dad “forced” all of his hobbies on me. This explains why I took after him in a lot of ways, especially the ability to learn handcrafts at first glance. He literally “forced” me to listen to the local TV news, even when I could barely understand a sentence. I had to read newspapers from page to page—not just the entertainment section, but the core politics, sports, and et al. All of which must have helped my writing. And then there was watching football. He would tutor me on how penalties, free kicks, corner kicks, etc., are awarded.
I reminisce now and realize that the category of men I crushed on in my earliest days, apart from the late Michael Jackson and R. Kelly, were footballers. From Thierry Henry (only God knows what I was thinking) to the late Rashidi Yekini (God rest his soul), Austin Okocha, Kanu Nwankwo, Finidi George, Osaze Odemwingie—I got really heartbroken when John Utaka married a white woman. He was the man I had crushed on the longest.
The Matches That Left Me Disappointed
Matches played by the Nigerian national team before the year 2000 didn’t really affect me; I was much younger and in my mid-teens. Besides, the Eagles seemed to be on point back then.
The real struggle began for me during the African Cup of Nations hosted by Ghana and Nigeria in 2000. The Nigerian team was “on point” throughout the group matches, beating Tunisia 4-2, drawing 0-0 with Congo, and going on to beat Morocco 2-0. Fantastic games, weren’t they?
We displayed our dominance over Senegal with a 2-1 win in the quarter-finals and sent the South Africans packing with a 2-0 victory in the semi-finals. Only for the Eagles to leave me with a theatrical heart attack in the finals. They faced the Cameroonian football team in a game that ended in a stalemate (2-2). Thus began the penalty shootout, which we lost, thanks to Kanu and Ikpeba. My heart was literally in my mouth the entire time the penalty shootout lasted. In an instant, the ‘love’ I had for Kanu Nwankwo, the footballer I was crushing on at that moment, “died” a natural death. Childish, I know!
I instantly turned pale, and for a few days after that match, I cried myself to sleep, even dreaming about how we could have won the competition.
Next came the 2002 World Cup in South Korea and Japan. Nigeria was paired with three countries filled with great football players. The group was tagged the “Group of Death” (Sweden, Argentina, and England). We lost 1-0 to Argentina, 2-1 to Sweden, and then drew 0-0 with England. No wins from the boys during that period, and I refused to be consoled.
May I Digress a Bit?
Quite vividly, I remember Baba Onigbinde (full name: Festus Adegboye Onigbinde), my favorite Nigerian coach of all time. I prefer him mainly because of his calmness. Baba exudes so much confidence, and despite all the criticism he faced for being calmly seated during matches and not giving last-minute tips to players by the pitch side—a common practice among coaches—I still preferred him.
It all keeps pouring out now—the list of great Nigerian players I knew. The likes of Ike Shorunmu (the goalkeeper), Celestine Babayaro, Austin Ejide, Vincent Enyeama, Eric Ejiofor, Isaac Okoronkwo, Efe Sodje, Ifeanyi Udeze, Taribo West, Mutiu Adepoju, Justice Christopher, Garba Lawal, James Obiorah, Austin Jay Jay Okocha, Joseph Yobo, Julius Aghahowa (his acrobatic celebrations still ring a bell), Finidi George, and Pius Ikedia (the man with great speed on the pitch, despite his height—kidding, of course), Nwankwo Kanu, and John Utaka. I hope I haven’t left anyone out?
Back to the Crux of the Matter.
In the same year came the Mali 2002 African Cup of Nations. In the group stage were Nigeria, Mali, Liberia, and Algeria. The boys made me glad with a 1-0 win over Algeria. It was a 0-0 draw against Mali and another 1-0 win against Liberia. We had a good game in the quarter-finals against Ghana, with the scoreline being 1-0. The Senegalese were victorious in the semis, beating Nigeria 2-1. By the time the Super Eagles played Mali for third place, I was already battling malaria, and my body mass had reduced by a few kilograms. Even though we won 1-0, I wasn’t pacified for a while.
Like a civil servant nearing retirement age, I wasn’t really getting along with how my health reacted whenever the Eagles lost a match. I was beginning to rethink being a live football spectator, to say the least.
At the Tunisia 2004 African Cup of Nations, Nigeria, Morocco, South Africa, and Benin were paired in a group. Morocco bashed us 1-0, and as if the boys were angry, the scoreline when Nigeria battled the South Africans ended 4-0 in our favor. Nigeria later won their match against Benin by 2 goals to nothing.
One of the happiest days of my life was the fact that we dashed the ambitions of the Cameroonians to proceed to the semi-finals at the quarter-final stage, winning 2-1. That was a great payback for what they did to us at the previous Nations Cup.
Be that as it may, Tunisia, the host country, held Nigeria to a 1-1 draw in the semi-finals. The penalty shootout didn’t go well for us, with Osaze’s shot failing to find the net. We played Mali for the third-place position, which we won 2-1. Tunisia eventually won the competition.
Needless to say, I felt uneasy throughout the match in the company of my dad. Quite unconsciously, we kept moving from one edge of the sofa to the other, fidgeting, screaming at the top of our voices, and “mouth-controlling” the movement of the ball. My temperature rose so high that I could feel the heat from within. I was also oozing annoyance, and now I wonder at whom precisely?
And Titi wept after the loss!
In the midst of my sobs, however, my dad couldn’t help but dash to the dining room for his bowl of Eba and Egusi (an African meal). How he managed to gulp down two bottles of chilled beer despite the fact that we lost a match (as if it were his business) and that I was all teary got me baffled.
After his meal, all he could do was pat me on the back for being patriotic.
“Your reward is in heaven,” he jocularly concluded for rejecting my meal, while my mum joined him in the banter.
“Those Nigerian footballers who failed you right now are in bed with their Tunisian babes, making away. So keep starving yourself, my dear,” she concluded, and my parents burst out laughing.
I must confess, that got to me!
Football is just a game that you either win or lose. So what’s the fuss about?
By the way, watching football live isn’t just meant for some set of people! I am one of them.
To avoid any hurt, bitterness, or pettiness that may arise, I chose to watch matches many days after they have aired. All the frenzies gone down, I sit calmly on the sofa, not oblivious to the scores at the end of the match, with a chilled can of malt in hand and a cookie in the other.
Another Pointer to the Game
Ex-international footballer of French origin, Thierry Henry, is the Assistant Coach who co-tutored Belgium’s national team that later lost to France in the just-concluded 2018 World Cup. As patriotic as he would have loved to be, he is paid to support Belgium over France. Now that’s pure business.
To hell with emotions!
And that football is just a game; it not only unites people of different tribes and tongues, but it is also a major source of livelihood for millions around the world.
Born as Titilayo Oladimeji, I have been known by the nickname Titipetral for nearly two decades. I am a Financial Advisor at a reputable financial institution in Lagos, Nigeria, with over 10 years of experience in Financial Advisory and Credit Analysis. I am also an author and the founder of Titipetral Publishers, a duly registered publishing company.
In addition, I lead the Titipetral Empowerment and Development Network (TEDN), a duly registered philanthropic initiative dedicated to supporting underprivileged girls, boys, women, and men in the Alimosho area, Nigeria’s most populated local government, focusing on serving the underserved.
For inquiries or collaboration, you can reach me at Titilayooladimeji@titipetral.com or titipetral@gmail.com.