Rest Pio, yours was a frenetic race

It is unimaginable that I am sitting before a blank document ready to punch away your tribute Keitumetse ‘Pio’ Paul. I was hesitant at first. As my fingers approached the keyboard, my heart raced faster. But I had to do it, and I believe if you had to know that I did not pen one, you would be utterly disappointed. We are living in a moment where one second, one is here and the next they are gone.

It is typical of a candle in the wind moment that we find ourselves in. The elasticity of the flame under the incessant pressure of the wind is not guaranteed.

At any moment, the flame might be extinguished and the candle goes cold. It happened last week Friday that after lunch the burning candle could not survive the persistent wind.

COVID-19 had claimed another precious soul. Yours was a brief but eventful stay. I only got to know you closely after the arrival of Peter Butler as Zebras coach around 2015. What alert me to your uncompromising temperament were reports in the media of your fight with the then Botswana Football Association (BFA) technical director, Ben Kgomela at the SSKB Stadium.

It was not a personal fight, but about your work. Your exuberance towards your profession was unmatched. My colleagues in journalism would remark how feisty a character you were. You belied your stature and even your tenor-like voice. I would later learn through first-hand interactions that you were one not to take ‘nonsense’. At times, I felt you went overboard, but typically, I never told you that. I never got tired of your phone calls and SMSes. Once I saw a call or SMS from you, I immediately knew that someone in the corridors of football had pissed you off.

Ours was never a personal relationship, it was strictly professional. You never promised to take me out for a drink or even discussed how our families were. We would cut straight to the chase.

“O kae, where can we meet?” that’s how the conversation would go, without any exchange of pleasantries.

It defined who you were, a business-like approach to issues. One thing I never got tired of hearing was how much you had attained in sport, going as far as getting your Master’s degree.

You did not mince your words on what you felt should be rightfully yours. After all, you had worked hard to get to where you were, and you were one of the most qualified local coaches.

When there was a vacancy, like the BFA technical director or national team job, you would tell me without blinking that the authorities should appoint you as you were the rightful candidate. I did not know if I agreed.

While you had the credentials, I always felt your fiery character would not see you last long in your position. You even pointed out most people were afraid of appointing you to the right positions as you were outspoken and true, you did not hold back.

You were forthright, Pio. Some hated this, leading to the common line ‘Paul wa lapisa’. Deep down I liked the fire in your belly, besides giving a journalist the desired sound bites, you did not want local club administrators to rest on their laurels. You were the checks and balances. Some coaches reduced the fight for your rights to a laborious personal war. They did not see the bigger picture as most of them are entrapped in near-slavery conditions.

You did not want to be made a football, but you wanted to make football. Even though it had been some time since I heard from you, the message you left behind is loud and clear, Pio. Rest my brother, rest!