The Pledge

I pledge to make a minor pilgrimage to Blida on the 2^nd of June to attend Algeria vs. Burkina Faso – a friendly match.

My pledge is a precarious one. I can’t even promise I’ll make the match. The truth is that a barrage of unaccounted variables may yet stand on the road to Blida. What I can promise is that I will try my hardest to bypass all inhibiting obstacles.

Why?

I share a one-sided relationship with the Algerian national team. For its sake, academic examinations have been failed, and lots of money has been spent. Growing up in Canada, football was never something that I could easily follow. Nominally, I supported Arsenal and caught the odd match on early Saturday mornings. Thierry Henry was someone I aspired to, but never idolized.

Meanwhile Algerian football was a nonfactor in my upbringing. Until the age of 12, I could only remember one match: France vs. Algeria in 2001. In fact, I had not even watched the spectacle, but had overheard my father and his friends half-amusingly and half-morosely mumble about Algeria and its children never changing (La Marseilleise was jeered [35 secs] and then the match was prematurely cancelled because of a deliberate pitch invasion from Algerian fans at the Stade de France [1: 14]: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fT6XqwvbRE).

But in 2007, I had an epiphany of sorts. When visiting an Aunt, I began lazily flipping through the channels of her illegally-programmed  satellite television. I stopped when I saw football on Canal Algerie. Algeria was playing Cape Verde Islands at home and my eyes stuck. This team clad in white and green was exciting. Nadir Belhadj, Rafik Saïfi, Madjid Bougherra and Karim Ziani led them to a 2-0 win in front of 66 000 in Algiers. I was sold on Les Fennecs when in-form striker Nourredine Daham nodded in his first international goal. In the ensuing eruption of joy, a dozen flares were lit and the players were immediately transported from a grainy pitch, to being thrust into a backdrop of thick, white smoke. I could barely see the ball, I could barely see the players, but I barely cared.

I quickly fell in love

Now I plan on going to my first match. I land in Algiers on May 17^th. Awkward embraces are to be endured from aunties I barely know, classical Arabic classes are also on the horizon, but best of all, I’m looking forward to Algeria vs. Burkina Faso on June 2, 2013. The match is but a light-hearted friendly encounter, but, for me, it could be a spiritually fulfilling.

Attendance

The Algerian public is generally considered one of the best in Africa. Qualification matches routinely sell-out. Flares light up the skyline, green and white flags drape around clustered apartments and counterfeit merchandise upon counterfeit merchandise is peddled in narrow street markets.

Friendly matches tend to be a mixed bag. Following Algeria’s historic World Cup qualification in 2009, Les Fennecs hosted Serbia in Algiers. 70 000 grateful patriots squeezed into the Stade 5 Juillet and generated an atmosphere I’d hitherto been oblivious to.

Conversely, the Algerian FA booked a worthless friendly vs. Niger following the humiliating failure to qualify for Gabon/Equatorial Guinea 2012. Less than 10 000 anemic fans filled in to Stade Mustapha Tchaker to witness a straightforward 4-0 victory.

The circumstances setting up the Burkina Faso match seem promising. Under coach Vahid Halilhodzic, Algeria has won all of its home matches comfortably and morale has been buoyed by the arrival of talented reinforcements. An intense atmosphere is anticipated to provide Les Fennecs with a boost they might need during the next two road qualification matches (Benin and Rwanda).

Trials and Tribulations 

I reached out to forumers, journalists and friends to scavenge scarce survival tips. This is what I received:

A recent trend arose in Algeria’s matches. Fans began attending early – really early. Against Benin, doors were closed a good seven hours as all 45 000 seats had been claimed. What initially seemed brazen enthusiasm was later found out as ticket insurance. In prior matches legitimate ticket holders had been repeatedly turned away at ticket gates hours before a match. Tickets are but paper slips and are easily replicated. When counterfeit tickets are accepted, genuine supporters who fought tooth and nail for admission are shut out.

So how does one hold his bladder for 7 hours? He simply doesn’t.

When women first attended en masse in the aforementioned Serbia match, it was reported that bottles of urine were thrown at them. I never worked out why anyone would go through the trouble…As it is, human waste is an accessible by-product at Algerian stadia.

In addition, 45 000 excretory systems are forced to stand firm against the tortuous pull of the human bladder. Understandably, some simply cannot hold out and relieve themselves in vacant water bottles. Unfortunately for all, if match events take a turn for the worse, said bottles may be used as missiles.

Tony had another idea.

I have the next 14 days to prepare myself mentally and physically for the ardors of attending an Algeria match. How I do so will be documented via this mini-blog and, should I accomplish my mission, you’ll be here to share the euphoria with me.

…to be continued

]]> http://sandalsforgoalposts.com/2013/05/20/journey-to-blida-part-one/feed/ 1 dantetsmith http://sandalsforgoalposts.com/2013/05/10/ethiopian-exultancy-is-heartwarming/ http://sandalsforgoalposts.com/2013/05/10/ethiopian-exultancy-is-heartwarming/#comments Fri, 10 May 2013 08:31:55 +0000 Salim Masoud Said http://sandalsforgoalposts.com/?p=4090 ]]>

Ethiopian football fans are making a reputation for themselves in Africa

Did that really happen, or did I dream it? In the film Being There, Peter Sellers’ character uses his television remote to try to transform reality. On Sunday, as I tuned into the African Champions League second round second leg tie between Zamalek and Saint George, and I found myself flicking to a channel that had me transfixed from beginning to end. The distinction was that I found myself on this channel from my laptop, via the convenience of internet streams, and it was entirely calculated, but the general point still stands.

As with a lot of African continental club matches, there was that significant, will-I-won’t-I-find-a-stream pre-game doubt; hope only heightening into consummate belief due to the fact that a Maghrebi team was involved and Ethiopian football is becoming increasingly streamable. Come kick off, requests and searches for a stream were met with a thundering silence, but, thanks to the African Football Experts, a stream would eventually arise. From there on in, reality was changed.

The dictum is that there isn’t a match-going culture in Africa, empty seats are a biennial criticism by casual observers of the African Cup of Nations and par for the course at club level. Whilst these smirches are completely understandable when you factor in the miniscule disposable income Africans have, the overall ambience fails to capture the hearts and minds of the aficionados who follow world football so ardently. After all, the jogo bonito in excelsis choreographed amidst the backdrop of the samba, exotic beats is what makes South America’s Copa Libertadores so captivating. The Fan Experience is also a large part of European football’s allure, and part of German football’s re-emergence and potential; the state of the art stadia filled to the brim an incentive to investors. When compared against the other continents, African football is more Patrice Carteron faced-off against Sir Alex Ferguson.

Another dictum, a more favourable, otherworldly one, are the sounds emitted from the stands. As David Goldblatt writes in the seminal The Ball Is Round, ‘African football…vibrated to a different energy. Percussion is ubiquitous in African football: drums, rattles and shakers of every kind and size provide the essential beat of the stands. Customs vary but unlike European crowds whose music rises and falls with the fortunes of their side, African crowds maintain their rhythm throughout a game – some do not even pause to celebrate a goal or take a dumbfounded break when they go behind’.

Yet the atmosphere at Ethiopian football matches seems to be an antithesis of that. Given St George’s were involved, you could have been excused for thinking their match against Zamalek was a jingoistic, English Defence League-empathising congregation celebrating the birth of England. It was gentle but joyful proudness that, at times, flickered into defiant and strident, sending many of the 35,000 wide-eyed fans into ecstasy when the St George goals went in.  Prolonged, goosebumps-stimulating chanting and singing filled with smiles and ready-to-smile subtlety etched on the faces of the fans. The plastic flags waving may have made the anti-vexillologists vomit, but there were no vuvuzelas in sight. It was an ambience that was reminiscent of the national team’s v Sudan back in October, a match that will surely be scribbled on African football’s epitaph; a day we saw unprecedented poznans.  But while that match was a crunch play-off tie against their bête noire Sudan, this was club football.

Ultimately, the fans would not be rewarded for their exultancy, an insipid Zamalek ploughing through to the group stages via the away goals rule largely thanks to the goalkeeping heroics of Abdulwahid El Sayed. It was the timely headed goals of the deadeyed Ivorian-born Bukinabe Abdoulaye Cisse, this week’s SFG Player of the Week, which would add economy though. The first goal came after just three minutes, negating the away goal in the 1-1 first-leg draw in Cairo and calming the nerves. Then, in the 87^th minute, just as St George seemed to be ascending to the lofty heights of the Champions League group stage in their helicopter, the sucker punch – a cross hung at the back post finished with another trademark Cisse diving header.

The midfield malevolence of Cameroonian Essadjo William, one of the standout performers on the day, endowed St George with the West African brawn that made the national team seem so featherweight at Afcon, establishing order and dominance in the centre of the park for large spells. Whilst the callow, stern Ugandan centre-back Isaac Isinde, who walloped the goal that put St George in the lead past El Sayed, showed the intransigency and poise that has seen Uganda regarded as one of Africa’s wiliest sides and East Africa’s next big hope.

The peril of St George, though, is that they were the reflection of the national team at Afcon 2013: the football they played was delightful yet detrimental, an elixir of amateurism evident in their gung-ho stratagem. But perhaps this self-destructive naivety is to be expected, part of the growing pains that any team needs if it’s to gain access to African football’s first class carriage. St George have certainly won a lot of friends. I, like many, will be looking forward to following their fortunes in the CAF Confederation Cup, Africa’s equivalent of the Europa League, for they made me, seemingly, retreat through the time-space continuum.

Please listen and participate!

“Shimelis Bekele is a little magician on the pitch in the manner of a classic number 10,” enthused former Ethiopia coach Iffy Onouora in the prelude to the Africa Cup of Nations earlier this year. “He can play wide or behind a striker, and can see a pass in the manner that Juan Mata and Santi Cazorla can.”

In an Africa Cup of Nations that flattered to deceive for connoisseurs of aesthetically-pleasing football, ten-man Ethiopia’s slickness against Zambia was one of the highlights of the tournament in what was arguably the match of the tournament. Bekele, dubbed The Ethiopian Messi, would be the man sacrificed after goalkeeper Tassew’s 39th-minute sending off, but he did manage to leave positive footprints on the tournament with some eye-catching performances in the forthcoming matches.

The attacking midfielder was deployed on the left-wing for St George in their commendable CAF Champions League second round 1-1 draw against Egyptian giants Zamalek in Cairo, and razzle-dazzle was aplenty with his direct running and backheels to bring team-mates into play; the protagonist in St George’s buckle-swashing fervor-filled forward forays. With Ethiopian football awakening from its slumber, and Bekele just having turned 23 in January, you get the feeling that a move to more lucrative pastures beckons.

At first viewing the figures showing rising attendances appear positive, and you would be forgiven for hailing the role of the AFC in promoting the tournament in the largest continent of them all; a feat considering the myriad footballing cultures which are as diverse as they are far-flung. The figures in Iran, for instance, are eye watering, and would be the envy of many a top club in Europe, China also have impressive figures considering the popularity of the game in the country. Year on year rises in the attendance figure are a healthy indication for any football tournament. However, a more intimate inspection of the figures reveals not all is well within the Asian Club game.  Out of the 47 member nations of the AFC only 10 are allowed to participate in the top tier club competition, five from West Asia (Qatar, UAE, Saudi Arabia, Uzbekistan, Iran) and five from East Asia (Japan, South Korea, China, Australia, Thailand). Clubs from the remaining nations are only allowed entry into the second tier AFC Cup tournament or the AFC President’s Cup, while some do not participate at all for varying reasons, ranging from the political to the financial, to (perhaps most frustratingly for proponents of football) a simple lack of interest.

The AFC seems intent on inclusion (exclusion is more of an apt term) criteria and affixing labels to nations, “mature”, “developing” & “emerging” are buzz words at their Malaysia HQ. Teams of inspectors are dispatched to a selection of countries to assess their development of the game, endless boxes are ticked or crossed feverishly, all to determine how deserving the club is of being included in the trendy, upmarket club which the guys at the AFC have concocted. While those who wish to defend or support this notion would say the confederation simply cares about improving the club game, but they would be missing the point. It is not the development of the game that worries the fans, it is the manner in which they are executing it which suggests there is a more sinister undercurrent. The AFC seems quick to exclude many a nation from certain competitions, and with no remorse; they peddle the top tier tournament as an aspiration for those who do not meet the criteria, dangling the carrot (which has ever more stringent & changing requirements-bi annual changes are the order of the day presently). They are so obsessed with the desire to ameliorate the game that they are foregoing the inclusive aspect of football.

How can a country’s league improve when the teams that inhabit it are forbidden from participating in the premier (and in some cases even the second tier) tournament? Why are the criteria so rigid in such a varying continent, where there is a massive disparity in financial resources available to each FA/League governing body? Such questions and more besides are not answered by the men in suits in Asia. Recently, and after criticism from multiple sources, the AFC have decided to make the ACL more inclusive, but with one caveat: Your club must meet the criteria. A glimmer of hope, potentially, quickly extinguished by the self defeating nature of the criteria.

Perhaps the most alarming issue in the midst of this all, is the funneling of teams’ entry into the AFC Cup, who are in some instances superior to their counterparts in the ACL. Not only this but the denial of fervent fans who are both more boisterous and loyal than many clubs fans in the “top tier” tournament. While the AFC are quick to praise the figures of rising attendances, they neglect mention of embarrassingly poor attendances in some Gulf states, the following video shows the game played last week in the ACL between Al Ettifaq of Saudi and Al Shabab of UAE, attended by a paltry 430 fans:

Meanwhile 14,000 turned out to watch Duhok of Iraq lose to a late goal by Al Faisaly of Jordan in March in the AFC Cup. Both teams, by the way, very capable of beating the two previous ACL sides mentioned, among others in the continents top tournament.

While it easy to criticise and point out the flaws of the AFC and their shortcomings, it seems only apt to put forward some suggestions for the club game in Asia.  Actions we feel would improve the game in both a constructive and inclusive manner.

1. Most obviously and effortlessly of all, relax the selection criteria which have excluded so many clubs and their fans from the joys of the Champions League. In their place we propose a return to simpler criteria which are used for the AFC Cup competition. This would allow many more nations to compete in both tournaments, not only would the quality & prestige of the ACL be improved, but so would that of the AFC Cup.
2. Play the continental club tournaments during the usual football season from September to May. This will stop teams from losing top players during the long current break from May to September, which can really detract from the tournaments. Travelling would not be an issue until the knockout phases of the tournament.
3. Play off routes pre-season to weed out “weaker” teams, as is the case in Africa and Europe. This would allow the teams to merit their place in each tournament and make sure the tournaments are comprehensive.
4. Define broad improvement guidelines which are tailor made for each country, that will allow steady and controlled improvement with less time pressure so as not to detract from the spectacle of the game.
5. Make the tournaments fan centric to make sure attendance figures continue to rise with the addition of all Asian countries willing to participate.

For a tournament which had its first edition in 1967, it has fallen from grace rapidly in recent years, most simply and largely due to its now exclusive nature. If Asian club football is being run by AFC employees with tick box forms, then that is a damning indictment on the state of the club game in Asia. As well as a stark warning for the very future of the game and its fledgling popularity in many regions of the continent.

Does SAFA have the blueprint at youth level to improve chances of success at senior level?

A mission statement defines what an organization is, why it exists, its reason for being. One cannot but force a wry smile when one looks at the mission statement of the South African Football Association (SAFA). Part of SAFA’s mission statement, according to their official website www.safa.net, is “creating an image of being a stable, progressive and innovative institution” and “contributing to Africa’s ascendancy in world football through the hosting of major events in Africa, while aspiring and striving to become a leading football playing nation.”

SAFA has successfully failed to live up to their mission statement and one wonders what’s then if not their mission statement guides them. You may be wondering why I am on about SAFA. Last weekend saw Egypt crowned African Under-20 champions for the fourth time after they beat Ghana 5-4 on penalties. In the process Egypt alongside losing finalists Ghana and semi-finalists Nigeria and Mali will represent Africa at the FIFA Under-20 World Cup in Turkey from 21 June to 13 July.

Nigeria has been African Youth champions a record 6 times, Egypt 4 times with Ghana claiming it on 3 occasions. Amajita, as our Under 20 football squad is affectionately known, have only been at these games on four occasions in the championships’ 34 year history – once in 1997 when Amajita, then led by the goal hungry Benny McCarthy who was then voted player of the tournament and top goal scorer, lost one-nil to hosts Morocco and later in Rwanda 2009 when they claimed fourth place.

That was probably the last time SAFA ceased to have leadership with imagination, insight and boldness – leaders who are agents of change, who see the bigger picture and think strategically – the same SAFA whose mission statement that seems to be in direct conflict with events of the past years.

What has happened to the array of stars that have graced out junior teams when they were at the height of success? Does SAFA have a plan to ensure development is not some cliché but a fundamental element of success for our senior national team? The 2011 edition of the Youth Championships held here in South Africa saw goalkeeper Ronwen Williams, Doctor Mampuru and Lyle Lakay strut their stuff but as things stand it’s only Williams who has received a call up as part of a grooming process. What has happened to all the youngsters who are naturally supposed to one day graduate to the senior national team? Do we have right people leading our football? The next African Youth Championships is scheduled for Senegal 2015 – does SAFA have a plan?

As regions prepare to elect delegates ahead of the September 2013 SAFA elective Annual General Meeting, they need to ask themselves whether there has been any tangible transformation of our football as envisaged by the Football Transformation Forum which ushered in a new leadership in Kempton Park I 2009. Back then, after he was installed as the new boss of SAFA, Kirsten Nematandani said the new leadership was focusing on fulfilling its mandate to develop football and to ensure that South Africa delivers a successful World Cup in 2010. The latter was delivered successfully but that’s all there is to write home about. Our football need a serious and concerted revolution and rid it of hangers on whose involvement if anything is detrimental.

This article was written by Boswell ‘BK’ Matewe, his first for SFG. Boswell is a sports broadcaster and is the anchor of Capricorn FM’s sports show. You can follow him on twitter @bkmatewe.

James, Amro, Maher, Salim and Abdul take a look back at African/Asian qualifiers. The 2013 African Youth Championship and Taribo West were also mentioned. Enjoy!

Wilson concluded that Gervinho’s delicate mindset dramatically affects his form. Cote d’Ivoire deal with his shortcomings by sheltering him, but he’s often left stranded in front of Arsenal’s fickle 60 000 on Saturday afternoons.

Arsene Wenger commented on Gervinho’s psychological fragility in a recent post-match press conference:

“I believe that sometimes Gervinho has lost confidence because he played in a very negative atmosphere during a period. Strikers need confidence, and [with] his game, even more.”

So why is it that Gervinho is so diametrically different in Abidjan than at Ashburton Grove? A few factors come into play…

Firstly, Gervinho has a defined role in the Ivorian squad. Drogba, Zokora, the Toure brothers, among other veterans often warmly poke fun at him and have adopted Gervinho as a figurative younger brother. Most had played with him at the famed ASEC Mimosas academy as he was one of the last academicians to flower under the tutelage of Jean-Marc Guillou (read about the JMG Academies here). The team dynamic is therefore familiar to him and he has no issues finding his place among the 23. Take this tunnel cam as an illustrative point, Yaya Toure beelines over to Gervinho calling him ‘La fleche noire’ (‘The Black Arrow’, a moniker he picked up in Africa) and Gervinho breaks into a wide smile of familiarity. The awkward truth is that he seemed more comfortable with Yaya Toure than with the vast majority of his Arsenal teammates.

Gervinho himself is partly to blame as he only extended his adaption period by struggling to grasp the English language a full two years after his transfer from Lille. On the field, the very nature of Gervinho’s playing style  is prone to elicit infuriating reactions from spectators. It seems that whenever he graces the pitch at the Emirates, he consistently gets himself into dangerous positions on either flank, but just as he seems ready to pull the trigger, an unorthodox and uncoordinated convulsion overtakes him and the chance is somehow fluffed.

Gervinho a different player for Les Elephants

Unfortunately for Arsenal fans, the indecisiveness and poor decision-making probably won’t go away anytime soon. Instead the unsavoury aspect of his play may need to be subsumed for what he can offer under the right conditions.

Whether it is on the right or left flank, Gervinho always finds enough space so he can receive a pass, turn, then run at the opposition. It’s a quality of his Wenger recently extolled:

“He’s always taking the ball, going forward and provoking [the play]. Now he has found his confidence back, he’s a very dangerous player. He is the type of player who is difficult to find because they always go at people.”

Because Gervinho is such a rare breed, his game tends to make or break. A series of successful dribbles and passes and he’s untenable. A few gaffes, then groans from the crimson faithful, and he can turn into a deer in headlights. His Ivorian teammates, who virtually grew up with him, understand and look to lift him when he’s struggling. When he plays well, they make him feel even better about himself.

In a recent World Cup Qualifying match vs. Gambia, Gervinho was in a devastating rhythm. He terrorized both fullbacks with relentless give-and-gos and long, slaloming runs. In the 70th minute, Gervinho collected a seemingly innocuous pass and, with nimble feet, breezed through four defenders before laying a sumptuous ball off for Kalou, who couldn’t miss. Didier Zokora ran the length of the pitch to pull Gervinho’s Nike Vapour onto his knee and treat him to a ceremonial shoe-shining. Everyone crowded around, giving him playful nudges and winks. Then the crowd began to chant his name and he saluted them all triumphantly.

It’s true that a 25 year-old footballer shouldn’t have to be protected the way Gervinho does. The best players find a way to stoically perform in the toughest of conditions, but – *spoiler alert * – Gervinho isn’t world class. However, on his day, the Ivorian striker can be an extremely useful weapon. In spite of what Tony Gale may think, Gervinho does have buckets of pace and can be devastating on and off of the ball.

Arsenal fans now know what they’ve been dealt, and in some twisted way, Gervinho’s future at a club he loves may lie in their hands… or voices. If the hostility continues, Wenger’s hand may be forced to sell, but if they can generate that nurturing atmosphere a player like Gervinho needs, then he’ll be capable of this:

Gervinho vs. Gambia

*Tony Gale repeatedly questioned Wenger’s decision of starting Gervinho against Reading after this performance.

Mbwana Samata celebrating his second goal of the game, Tanzania’s third in their 3-1 win.

Mere hope has metamorphosed into belief. A 1-0 win over the 2012 Cup of Nations champions Zambia and a 1-0 win over Cameroon in December 2012 and February 2013, respectively, had acted as the prelude with many subsequently sitting regally when the Tanzania national team was mentioned. But those were friendlies; nothing more than boisterous Bunsen burner experiments that were not fool proof. Zambia had fielded experimental XIs in each half in preparation for the Africa Cup of Nations and have been slayed enough to suggest that they’re not giants but potential one-hit wonders. Cameroon, meanwhile, are undergoing a nadir and are masquerading as 35-year-olds who no longer want to play together; the Indomitable Lions are domitable.

Tanzania, the sixth most populous country in Africa with a population of roughly 44 million, have been mired in footballing mediocrity since their appearance at the 1980 Cup of Nations, failing to qualify for a major tournament ever since. On Sunday, a splendid 3-1 win over Morocco served as the competitive inauguration of this Tanzanian team. The victory, the first over Morocco, means the Taifa Stars remain second in the in Group C, one adrift of group leaders Ivory Coast and four ahead of Morocco. The Tanzanian national team is growing before my own eyes and I’m starting to believe in it.

Under the tutelage of Danish coach Kim Poulsen, a man who possesses erudite insight into Tanzanian youth set-up after his previous job as coach of the U-20 and U-17 sides, there has been focus on integrating youth into the senior side. The growing sense of unity is palpable, the collective cohesive raison d’etre – aided by players largely plucked from Tanzanian behemoths Simba and Young Africans – encapsulated in the intrepid manner they toyed with the Atlas Lions at times. Whilst West African nations have been able to combine power and technique to overcome Maghrebi nations (and dominate African football), East Africans, of smaller stature, generally less technically-accomplished and more suited to the rigours of long-distance running, have seldom been able to outplay Maghrebi nations; victories have come via gossamer-thin, seat-squirming margins. The greatness of this performance by Tanzania, who recorded their biggest win ever over a North African team, was that it was imbued with technicality that is finally becoming cherished in East Africa.

It was a continuation of the praise Gambia coach Luciano Mancini had reserved for the Taifa Stars when they beat his team 2-1 last June in the second game of World Cup qualifying. “The Tanzanian team played very well,” the Italian observed. “They have players small in physical stature and able to play some fast combinations while  moving swiftly with the ball.”

Whisper it: Tanzania, with a talented, experienced nucleus of players aged 23 or under, are on the path towards something special. Of course, with mass population come great expectations. Tanzanians are no different in that respect, but an accustoming to mediocrity had rendered to apathy towards international football during their 31-year longueur. They want the world – qualification for the 2015 Afcon would be enough, and that is Poulsen’s target – or nothing. It was apt, then, that 19-year-old Thomas Ulimwengu [Ulimwengu means ‘the world’ in Swahili] would prove to be the inspired half-time substitution in this World Cup qualifier.

Dar es Salaam is a tough place to go – I know this because I was born there. It may seem counter-intuitive, perhaps a shtick; after all, the name Dar es Salaam is derived from Arabic, meaning a safe port. If Morocco had come to Dar es Salaam for an idyllic cup of tea in the sub-sahara, then Ulimwengu was the wide-eyed raver keen to throw a spanner in the works. Within forty seconds after trotting on for Mwinyi Kazimoto [Kazimoto means ‘hot work’ in Swahili], he had put the Taifa Stars in front after a mammoth throw-in had caused mayhem in the Moroccan box.

Kazimoto may have been warming the bench in every sense of the phrase but he had obviously transmitted his heat to the quicksilver Ulimwengu who seemed on an incessant quest to add layers of perspiration to the Moroccan backline. His fraternal understanding with talisman Mbwana Samata formed from club incursions with continental heavyweights TP Mazembe came to the fore. For the second goal, Ulimwengu drew a Moroccan defender out of his position before leaving the pass for Samata to run onto and finish low past Nadir Lamyaghri with dead-eye accuracy. Then he sealed it by hurrying Chakir into a tumble before squaring to Samata to do the rest.

The overwhelming thing about it all was that there was trust; a coming-of-age, if you will. Even the most cynical football fan reaches a point where they trust their team not to balls it up. Morocco’s penchant for pressing the self-destruct button undoubtedly added logic into my train of thought, but even if one considers that I remained pretty phlegmatic at 1-0. Salum ‘Sure Boy’ Abubakar displayed the origins of his moniker with his yogic calmness on the ball, Amri Kiemba wasn’t far behind in the poise stakes, the forceful forays of Shomari Kapombe provided relief, and the pace down the flanks mixed with Samata’s finishing reassured me the rest would be history. The defensive, helped by the profligacy of Morocco in front of goal, rode their luck, but sometimes you have to; goalkeeper Juma Kaseja made some stunning saves, enough to forgive him for his mishap deep in injury time to gift Morocco a consolation goal.

Tougher tests are yet to come. The double-header in June, away to Morocco and then at home to ruthless efficient qualifiers Ivory Coast, will chart at which point of their upward curve this young team is stationed at. Realistically, it’s hard to foresee Tanzania qualifying for the World Cup but the seeds are being planted for 2015 Afcon qualification. The fact that they’re doing what good teams should be doing – winning home games, insofar that they’re considered bankers – is enough to leave Tanzanians stargazing at the Taifa Stars.

Many would say his exclusion was deserved. Such is the reverence for him in the Ivory Coast that there had never been a cacophonous clamour for him to stand down. Before the Afcon, of course, it would have been sacrilege to suggest the Drog, the Captain, the Leader, the Legend, the Civil War-ending Hero, should be put away, but there has been a sotto voce-acceptance of his exclusion. Drogba is at the age when insipid performances that would have once been forgiven and forgotten are now interpreted as signs of the insidiousness of the dotage process.

Drogba is idolized in Cote D’Ivoire

What’s more, the idolatry for him throughout the team and his monumentality makes him impossible to ignore when he is in the squad. That was certainly the case at the Afcon. The eldest member of the golden generation, there was a Do-It-For-Didier mantra flowing throughout the Ivorian set-up. Despite his indifferent performances, being dropped for the second match against Tunisia after Togo’s Vietnam-based Vincent Bossou marked him out of the opening game and his replacement, Lacina Traore, impressing, he was back for the crunch quarter-final tie against Nigeria. Although he would win a foul and subsequently assist Cheick Tiote’s equaliser, Nigeria’s callow centre-back partnership Kenneth Omeruo and Godfrey Oboabona were rarely troubled.

Merely blaming Drogba would only be a whiff of the post-mortem of the latest edition of the Ivorian Golden Generation Afcon-failing sequel. After all, it wasn’t the strikeforce that was the problem – they scored more than enough to win games – rather it was the disequilibrium in midfield and defence. Kolo Toure has since shown outstanding club form to dissipate the intermittent nanoseconds of narcolepsy that he displayed in January, Emmanuel Eboue has been dropped whilst composed left-back Siaka Tiene has lost his place due to a lengthy lack of first team football at PSG.

Drogba’s exclusion could also inspire a change of philosophy because he was not only a symbol of reverence but also one of reference. As I wrote in the Ivory Coast 2013 Cup of Nations preview: “the ex-Chelsea striker’s big-game bravura, completeness and leadership skills are crucial. Ivory Coast may have a phalanx of good and very good forwards on the bench, but their 4-3-3 system is tailored to Drogba and no other striker has shown they have the all-round attributes to replace him.”

Daddy Cool is ready to take over

My sentiments still stand. Les Elephants have myriad options to don the phosphorescent shirt, and all come with their coruscation and dimness. With 26 goals in 24 games for Vitesse Arnhem in the Eredivisie and a regular impact-stimulator from the Ivorian bench, Wilfried ‘Daddy Cool’ Bony is hitherto the most prolific of the contenders. He is endowed with the top-heaviness of Drogba and has the star aura that goes some way to filling Drogba’s spacious shoes, but tends to be lackadaisical when it comes to the hurly burly of pressing the opposition centre-backs and chasing lost causes. Wigan’s peroxide-haired Arouna Kona offers directness and intricate link-up play to function well in a front-two – which was experimented to devastating success in the 3-0 win over Austria – but isn’t the master-of-all-trades that Drogba was. Lacina Traore’s 6 foot 8 inches certainly provides instant grandeur and with 2 goals in 2 starts, as well as sharing a good understanding with Gervinho and Yaya Toure, it’s easy to understand why he has become a favourite of Lamouchi, he lacks mobility and remorseless finishing however. The dead-eyed Seydou Doumbia, fresh from a length injury lay-off that saw him miss Afcon, is next in line to the throne but he has often flattered to deceive at international level, albeit largely starting on the bench, and is more of a poacher. Turkish second division top scorer Gerard Bi Goua Gohou and Sochaux’s Giovanni Sio, both members of the 2010 Toulon Tournament Ivorian triumph, have received their first call-ups and are outsiders.

It will be interesting to see what happens from here on in until the 2014 World Cup, assuming the Ivory Coast qualify. It’s important they start preparing for a future without Drogba; including him in the upcoming squads would be more of a hindrance than help. Giving him a cooling off period, even for just the next 2-3 squads, whilst experimenting with the striking options only benefits Les Elephants in the long run.