FOR THE LOVE OF BAFANA
I have a confession.
I never actually saw Bongani Khumalo’s “headed” goal vs France hit the back of the French net. I did watch the game. I did see the Siphiwe Tshabalala corner swing into the French area and the French goalkeeper flap at air. But as Bongani rose above the French defenders, I was already off my seat and jumping wildly in celebration.
I have another confession.
I never saw Kathlego Mphela’s goal (the second for South Africa on the night) cross the French goal line. I was still watching the game ofcourse. I saw Tshepo Masilela fighting for the ball in the French box and stroking the jabulani ball towards the French goal mouth. I saw that the ball somehow arrived at the feet of Mphela, just centimetres from the goal line. But again, before the ball rolled between the posts or touched the back of he net, I had run 50 metres in celebration while waving my green and gold South African scarf.
I have one final confession.
I believed in Bafana Bafana.
Like thousands of South Africans around our truly magnificent country, I embraced the 2010 World Cup with ready enthusiasm. I bought a unite 4 bafana wristband, a Bafana scarf, a Bafana shirt, a South African flag for my car, and most importantly I bought into the dream of Bafana Bafana at this the African World Cup.
I know thousands upon thousands of my fellow South Africans did the same. We believed in Bafana Bafana (‘the boys”). We believed that at a minimum the boys would progress to the second round of the 2010 World Cup. Some of my South African brothers and sisters even had faith that this South African soccer side would lift the World Cup itself. I know that I was close to feeling the same. Forget logic. Throw doubt out the window. We believed in our team, our country. We believed in destiny. And we lost... or did we?
Over 180 000 South Africans poured onto the streets of Sandton in Johannesburg to watch the Bafana pre-tournament parade. To show their support of our side. (It is now clear that this parade caused extreme mental exhaustion to the players and contributed to a poor and tired performance vs Uruguay)
When South Africa lined up against Mexico, it seemed as if the whole of our beloved country had stopped their day-to-day lives so as to watch and support Bafana.
And even when the dream seemed dead, South Africans from all backgrounds refused to give up the Bafana dream, and again devoted their time and hearts in support of Our Boys vs France in what was to be their final game.
So have we really lost?
Perhaps Shakespeare (or whoever) said it best. It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
In the year of 2010, we loved Bafana Bafana, and we lost.
But we didn’t really lose at all.
I have a confession.
I never actually saw Bongani Khumalo’s “headed” goal vs France hit the back of the French net. I did watch the game. I did see the Siphiwe Tshabalala corner swing into the French area and the French goalkeeper flap at air. But as Bongani rose above the French defenders, I was already off my seat and jumping wildly in celebration.
I have another confession.
I never saw Kathlego Mphela’s goal (the second for South Africa on the night) cross the French goal line. I was still watching the game ofcourse. I saw Tshepo Masilela fighting for the ball in the French box and stroking the jabulani ball towards the French goal mouth. I saw that the ball somehow arrived at the feet of Mphela, just centimetres from the goal line. But again, before the ball rolled between the posts or touched the back of he net, I had run 50 metres in celebration while waving my green and gold South African scarf.
I have one final confession.
I believed in Bafana Bafana.
Like thousands of South Africans around our truly magnificent country, I embraced the 2010 World Cup with ready enthusiasm. I bought a unite 4 bafana wristband, a Bafana scarf, a Bafana shirt, a South African flag for my car, and most importantly I bought into the dream of Bafana Bafana at this the African World Cup.
I know thousands upon thousands of my fellow South Africans did the same. We believed in Bafana Bafana (‘the boys”). We believed that at a minimum the boys would progress to the second round of the 2010 World Cup. Some of my South African brothers and sisters even had faith that this South African soccer side would lift the World Cup itself. I know that I was close to feeling the same. Forget logic. Throw doubt out the window. We believed in our team, our country. We believed in destiny. And we lost... or did we?
Over 180 000 South Africans poured onto the streets of Sandton in Johannesburg to watch the Bafana pre-tournament parade. To show their support of our side. (It is now clear that this parade caused extreme mental exhaustion to the players and contributed to a poor and tired performance vs Uruguay)
When South Africa lined up against Mexico, it seemed as if the whole of our beloved country had stopped their day-to-day lives so as to watch and support Bafana.
And even when the dream seemed dead, South Africans from all backgrounds refused to give up the Bafana dream, and again devoted their time and hearts in support of Our Boys vs France in what was to be their final game.
So have we really lost?
Perhaps Shakespeare (or whoever) said it best. It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
In the year of 2010, we loved Bafana Bafana, and we lost.
But we didn’t really lose at all.