admin
Sharuko on Saturday
FOR some fans, it was the year football was born.
And, in a way, it’s quite easy to understand why they feel that way.
After all, in the Argentine city of Rosario, a toddler, who would grow to be their god of football, was born.
That was on June 24, 1987.
His father called him Lionel.
The family name is Messi, as much Argentine, as much Italian and as much Spanish.
Such a simple NAME, such a simple FRAME and such a huge impact on the world’s most beautiful GAME.
The future King had a genuinely cosmopolitan appeal right from the very beginning.
Even his family name had an attachment to royalty, a romantic bond to greatness, a shortened version of some football Messiah, the anointed one who would save his game.
In Argentina, the superstars, who have virtually single-handedly dragged their country to the World Cup final, all have a common denominator in their names.
Somehow, it has to feature the letter ‘M’ — Mario Kempis in 1978, Maradona in 1986 and 1990 and Messi in 2014.
Twice they lost in the final, in 1990 and in 2014 and, on both occasions, it was at the hands of the Germans.
Maybe, when you are part of a family tree where your father’s grandfather was born in Italy and great grandmother was born in Spain, there is every chance you can be a good footballer.
Of course, not as exceptional as Lionel Andreas Messi Cuccittini.
Because, in the real world, a footballer as gifted as the diminutive forward only emerges just once in a generation.
Football purists can be forgiven to suggest that 1987 was quite a very special year simply because Lionel Messi was born.
And, they can point to the All-Star Team, of those who were born in 1987, to back the argument that this was a special year in which the football gods reserved for some of their finest creations.
In goals, for that All-Star ’87 Team, they will have Joe Hart, with Leonardo Bonucci, Gerard Pique and Jan Vertonghen taking the defensive roles.
Arturo Vidal, Blaise Matuidi, Cesc Fabregas and Dimitri Payet will grab the midfield roles.
In attack, they will have Luis Suarez, Karim Benzema and, of course, the captain and leader of the team, Lionel Messi.
The only footballer to win the Ballon d’Or six times, the genius who has won the European Golden Shoe six times and has won 10 La Liga titles.
If there has been a La Liga adventure, which was scripted by the gods, then it has to be Messi’s lengthy romance in Spain.
Because, how do we explain that his championship haul had to be exactly the same number, 10, which became synonymous with his days at Barcelona?
How do you explain that Messi was born on a Wednesday, a day which, in due course, would become synonymous with his finest nights, in the Champions League finals?
In the same year that Messi was born, an Algerian legend, Raber Madjer, who is one of the greatest African footballers of all-time, helped Porto beat Bayern Munich 2-1, to win the European Cup.
Madjer’s cheeky goal, for the equaliser, was so beautiful that it even provoked a comment from the legendary Brazilian superstar, Pele.
“It would have been the greatest goal I have ever seen, if he had not looked back at it,” said Pele.
Madjer would also score in the Intercontinental Cup to power Porto to a 2-1 win over Penarol of Uruguay, after extra-time, as the Portuguese giants were crowned champions of the world.
There are many who believe Madjer should have won the Ballon d’Or in 1987, which would have been quite an historic achievement, for an African footballer.
Instead, the award was won by Ruud Gullit, the Dutch superstar, because in those days, players who were not born in Europe, were not eligible for this prestigious gong.
Among those plying their trade on the continent, in 1987, the best player was undoubtedly Egyptian legend, Mahmoud El Khatib.
He scored five goals, to win the Golden Boot, in the Champions Cup, the predecessor of the Champions League, to help Al Ahly win the tournament in ’87.
Just like Messi, El Khatib won 10 Egyptian championships, during his illustrious career, with Al Ahly, in which his vintage individual performances kept kissing the edges of purity.
He powered them to two Champions Cup titles, three Cup of Cup Winners titles and, in the colours of his national team, he helped the Pharaohs win the AFCON title at home, in ’86.
Today, El Khatib is the president of Al Ahly.
He is the leader of the most successful African football club of all-time, and was the one who took the historic decision to hire Pitso Mosimane, to come and coach the Red Devils.
Even the Americans, who don’t really believe football is the king of all sporting disciplines, will also acknowledge that 1987 was a unique and special year.
After all, it was also the year Salt Lake City Trappers began professional baseball’s record streak of 29 consecutive wins.
THE DEMBARE CLASS OF ‘87
The Dynamos Class of ’87 is not a squad of players which is usually mentioned whenever the great teams, which the Glamour Boys have produced, over the years, are mentioned.
And, to some extent, one can understand why no one appears to remember them.
For goodness sake, they didn’t win the league championship, which was won by Black Rhinos, with the army side picking their second, and last, title.
It was only the second time, in the eight championship races, since Independence in 1980, that the Glamour Boys had failed to win the marathon.
But, statistics, based purely on winning something, or reaching the final of a tournament, are deceiving.
Because, in a way, they don’t take into account factors like the possibility that, in the season a team excelled, it wasn’t largely because of its excellence but the pathetic state of the opposition.
Well, this debate could need all the pages of this newspaper, for it to be explored fully, and the reality is that we don’t have such luxury.
However, those who had the privilege of being witnesses, and those who have spent years studying the golden domestic football landscape of the ‘80s, will tell you the DeMbare Class of ’87, was something special.
They will also tell you that this should have been the first Dynamos team to, at least, reach the final of the Champions Cup, now called the Champions League.
They were ruthless, in their destruction of Mbabane Highlanders, in the first round, scoring half-a-dozen goals at home, in a 6-1 first leg victory.
They won the second leg 2-1 for an emphatic 8-2 aggregate victory.
In the second round, they beat FC Lupopo of the DRC 3-1, at home, and held the Congolese side to a 1-1 draw, in Lubumbashi, for a 4-2 aggregate victory.
In the first leg of the quarter-finals, they went down 1-2, to Canon Yaounde, but such was their impressive show that one newspaper headline screamed, “DYNAMOS 90 MINS AWAY FROM SEM-FINAL.”
Which should have been the case, had the Glamour Boys prevented the West Africans from scoring, in the second leg in Harare.
Moses Chunga’s venomous free-kick provided them with the goal they needed to progress, on away goals rule, had they prevented the West Africans from scoring.
Of course, they didn’t and the 1-1 draw ended their campaign, with Canon booking a semi-final showdown with Al Hilal of Sudan.
Chunga was just 22.
But, he had already been Soccer Star of the Year, had already captained his Glamour Boys and was completing his move to Belgium.
Exactly 35 years have now passed since the landmark events of ’87 and, on June 24, Messi will celebrate another birthday, as the record holder of the Ballon d’Or.
He might have left Barca but the Catalans will always roll out the red carpet for him, should he ever decide to come back home, in whatever capacity.
They will never forget Messi, he is their eternal football Messiah, and it’s not just a coincidence that the word eternity is mentioned 35 times in the Bible.
I also believe genuine Dynamos fans will never forget Moses Chunga.
The genius who, on his departure from the Glamour Boys, 35 years ago, led opposition fans to coin a phrase, taunting DeMbare, by labelling them “Haina Moze,” rather than “Haina Ngozi.”
Exactly 35 years ago, something special, too, happened, in local football.
A new voice was heard on local radio for the first time, among those whose job is to provide a blow-by-blow account, using the power of their words, of matches in the domestic Premiership.
Until then, we had been accustomed to the high-pitched commentary of Evans Mambara, who had borrowed his style from the legendary Zambian commentator, Dennis Liwewe.
The Liwewe impact, in Evans’ commentary, was there for everyone to hear, it even came with a Zambian touch, in the way he pronounced some of the words.
He loved Black Rhinos, was unapologetic about that, and when the army side were on song, he was at his flowing best.
“Stanford ‘Stix’ Mtizwa takes over in midfield, what a talent, what a genius, beats his man, finds Stanley ‘Sinyo’ Ndunduma on the right, this is Sinyo.
“Sinyo, Sinyo, he keeps going, Sinyo, sends in a cross, to Maronga Nyangela, this is The Bomber, a flick, Jerry Chidawa, Dzungumaaaaannnnnnnn, it’s a gooooooooooooooooooooal.”
Then, Charlie came along.
He was different, he was poetic, he had a rhythm to his commentary, it was a melody, it was like he was conducting the orchestra, it was like listening to a symphony.
It was artistic, it was operatic, the work of art, it was beautiful, the emotions were there, but not to the level of Evans’ high-pitched style.
Hearing Charlie at his very best, especially in the epic derbies between Dynamos and CAPS United of the ‘80s, was probably the perfect sound of what one hears when doves cry.
The sound one would probably hear if the vintage paintings of legends like Leonardo da Vinci, Pablo Picasso and Michelangelo could sing.
The sound one would probably hear if the beautiful pieces produced by our leading sculptors like Dominic Benhura, Nicholas, Anderson, Lawrence, Taguma, Netsai, Ennica, Nesbert Mukomberanwa, Thomas Mukarobgwa and Bernard Takawira could sing.
Charles “CNN” Mabika, the boy from Mbare, who grew up in the company of Stix, as a friend, had arrived on the big stage.
THIRTY FIVE YEARS OF CNN
This year marks 35 years of service to football, the only game he really loves.
It’s a lifetime spent serving his beloved sport and, if you meet him today, he will tell you he isn’t thinking about hanging up.
Why should he?
After all, he remains the most authoritative fellow in local football, the custodian of its history, the guy who provides counsel, when there are challenges.
He will always tell you that he is the Warriors’ number one fan, and it’s hard to argue otherwise because, when it comes to our national team, his passion for the game really explodes.
He becomes the other CNN, the boy who used to play this game on the lively streets of Mbare, and enjoyed it without having to cage his excitement.
I have been around for some time now and I have to make a confession that I am yet to find someone, among the local journalists, who has the same undiluted love, for the Warriors, as Charles Mabika.
Yes, he loves Middlesbrough, fair and fine, but when it comes to his Warriors, it’s a different ball game altogether.
It’s a relationship made in heaven.
To me, CNN is our football hero, just like Peter Ndlovu, the greatest Warrior of all-time, just like Sunday Chidzambwa, the greatest coach we ever produced.
That we haven’t honoured CNN, especially within our club of sports journalists, is an aberration, an insult to reality, a shameless attack on honesty and a romantic fling with the Devil.
We have another chance this year, as he celebrates 35 years in the industry, and we should not let it pass by once again.
The irony of it all is that I even heard some rumbling, among some people, who even questioned if CNN deserved to be honoured, with a house, by Sakunda Holdings.
That’s the sad truth of the state of our community as sports journalists.
It’s a community filled with some individuals, whose DNA is dominated by jealousy and they even believe they are God’s only gift to this profession.
Anyone else — those who came before them and those who will come after them — is irrelevant.
It’s a community not happy that Mike Madoda even did some work for SuperSport TV and a community not happy that Steve Vickers doesn’t only do some commentary work for SuperSport TV, but also writes for BBC Sport.
They will tell you that Charles Mabika is old school.
Because, in their world, only the likes of Peter Drury are the kind of commentators, who deserve respect, and only the likes of Gary Neville are the only television pundits, who make sense, when it comes to football.
I have always considered myself to be privileged to work with CNN because, every time I am with him, I learn quite a lot.
He is one of my colleagues, in this industry, I consider to be my true friend.
He is a genuine fellow, one who derives a lot of pride in that he is a boy from the streets of Mbare, a place he usually visits every weekend, for a drink with his old friends.
Never forget your roots, he has always told me, and he will be the first to admit that he found a willing student who is also fiercely proud of where I come from.
The M4 Section of Chakari, at House Number 82, adjacent the Zimbabwe Grounds, a stone’s throw from the cocktail bar and our stadium.
That’s home for me, always has been and always will be.
I have always taken the special relationship between CNN and me to be like the one which used to exist between the late Christopher Martin-Jenkins and Mike Selvey – two of the best British cricket journalists of their time.
Next year, the world will mark 10 years since CMJ, also known as the Major, died after finally losing his battle against cancer.
The Major had one frustrating habit, he was always late in everything he did.
The obituary, which Selvey wrote, about his long-time friend, remains one of the best stories I have read in my life.
“The late Christopher Martin-Jenkins. We always said it had a pertinent ring to it because that is what he generally was,” Selvey wrote.
“And, that’s what he is now.
“Farwell my dear CMJ, broadcaster, writer, colleague, friend, travelling and dining companion and golfing partner.
“Throughout his entire working life, the Major championed cricket and cricketers of all abilities. The game has lost perhaps the best friend it ever had.
“If ever I write an autobiography, I once told him, I shall call it ‘WAITING FOR THE MAJOR,” because that is what I seemed to spend much of my time doing.
“To this day, I have a text template specifically for him that reads: ‘Where the f*** are you?”
My good friend CNN is still alive and kicking, 35 years after his first plunge into our industry, and there is no need for an obituary.
Instead, he deserves an autobiography, and if I ever write one about him, I shall call it, “LAUGHING WITH CNN,” because that is what we seem to always go on the occasions we are together.
You are my hero CNN.
To God Be The Glory!
Peace to the GEPA Chief, the Big Fish, George Norton, Daily Service, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse and all the Chakariboys still in the struggle.
Come on United!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ronaldoooooooooooooooooooooo!
Text Feedback 0772545199
WhatsApp 0772545199
Email- [email protected]; [email protected]
You can also interact with me on Twitter (@Chakariboy), Facebook, Instagram (sharukor) and Skype (sharuko58) and GamePlan, the authoritative football magazine show on ZTV, where I interact with the legendary Charles “CNN” Mabika, is back every Wednesday night at 9.30pm
Peter Tanyanyiwa
Online Reporter