‘Madala Madala’ basking in mediocrity
MADIBA was much missed yesterday, but he didn’t miss much. Bafana Bafana and the Springboks shared a field for the first time in South African history, and their performances remained etched in our memory for about half an hour.
Since Madiba’s alchemical moments of 1995 and 1996, South African sporting passion has been gradually polluted by the mental toxin of advertising. We are commanded by sponsors and politicians to get excited about congested mediocrity. We tend to disobey.
And not even the most obedient Bafana fan could raise a pulse during the 2-0 triumph over a Burkina Faso C team. It was about as tepidly meaningless as a win can get, despite a snazzy opening goal from Siphiwe Tshabalala. Thanks to the fixture falling outside the Fifa international calendar, the visitors’ ranks contained no players based outside their homeland, and none of the lineup that won silver at this year’s Africa Nations Cup. They were blatantly awful, and it was wearisome to watch a home-based Bafana battle to boss them.
For many of us jaded Bafana supporters, the clash between the South African Legends and their Italian counterparts was a more enticing prospect.
As it turned out, the has-beens didn’t serve up a classic, and Doc Khumalo failed to boss the show as he did against the old Germans recently.
But the highlight of the proceedings was a cameo from Mlungisi “Professor” Ngubane, quite possibly the most spherical footballer ever to be televised in action. Resplendent in his luminous yellow shirt, he resembled the sun — and waddled across the turf at roughly the pace at which the sun inches across the sky. So globular was “Professor” that even Jomo Sono looked lanky in his company. Ngubane didn’t venture too far
Mzansi’s wheezing, waddling South African Legends couldn’t compete with the trim, tomato-munching Masters
from the bench, choosing to station his immense physical presence at the corner of the halfway line and touchline, where he demanded possession. Whenever his teammates obliged, Professor shimmied on the ball with the gravity-defying grace of a hippo in stilettos. The fact that his Legends were 2-0 down to the Italian Masters at the time did not cramp his style.
As for the toppies in blue, their ranks were free of genuine Azzurri legends, barring the once-brutal World Cup-winning defender Claudio Gentile, 59. His surname is a misnomer: he’s the brute who once nearly kicked the genius out of Diego Maradona back in 1982. No surprise, then, that he had the measure of Mark Fish, who galloped around up front for old time’s sake. Mzansi’s wheezing, waddling Legends couldn’t compete with the trim, tomato-munching Masters. Shoes Mosheou and Doc “16V” provided the odd flashback to their salad days brilliance.
Once “Madala Madala” had shuffled off, the punters were treated to the obligatory bout of plodding political theatre. A mob of geezers, including two former presidents Thabo Mbeki and FW de Klerk, took the stage. Up leapt Fikile “Bra Fiks” Mbalula, who roused the drowsy crowd with his stentorian oratory.