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VUSI DHLAMINI (PART 4)

Mavusana, we believe you have more to share! At one stage, we had the late Thabang Lebese playing for us and he liked me so much that he didn’t want to travel with the team bus to training. Instead, I would pick him up because I also respected him as a legend. Guess who were our coaches at the time? Lefa Gqosha and Alex Bapela. He used to play with them and now they had to bark instructions to him. Ha, ha, ha, it was so awkward for him. You would hear him telling them to select him for games because, according to him, they knew that he was a better player than them. So, on the day of the selection of the team, we wouldn’t do much – it would just be free kicks, corner kicks and penalties. One time, he took one free kick so f **** ng well that it flew straight into the back of the net. Out of excitement, I shouted, “Chilli Sauce!

Hayi iyababa lento (The chill sauce is too hot)!” and we both started to run and he did his trademark goal celebration. Everyone started to cheer for him and I said, “Noma bangathini, uyayiqala (Come hell or high water, you’re starting) this week nakanjani (definitely).” He said, “If I don’t go to camp today, I’m retiring.” Yho, you should have seen the expressions on the faces of both coaches. They had no option but to take him with to camp, ha, ha, ha. But before they could call out the names of the players selected, Lebese just stood up and said, “Thabang Lebese!” and went to the other side, leaving us all. Wow, all of us just laughed, even the coaches.

Bavele baphelelwa amandla (They just looked defeated) and had no option but to select him.

Ha, ha, ha.

I remember in that camp, he shared a room with me. The stories he would tell me about his time at Kaizer Chiefs and Orlando Pirates made me realise this guy was a true legend. He would brag to me and say, “Hawu, Vusi, wena uhlanyiswa yile (you’re all crazy about this) Golf 4 yakho (of yours). Mina I’m the first soccer player in South Africa to drive a Golf 4, not 1… Golf 4.” Ha, ha, ha. He used to tell me how he would throw random parties at his house whenever boredom got the better of him. Remember this was Thabang Lebese, so he would organise booze, a lot of booze, and then he would organise ladies. Not just any calibre of ladies but the ones commonly referred to as “slay queens” these days. After that, he would call amajita (the gents). You know who we’re talking about when we’re talking of amajita who were close to Lebese at his peak. He said they would have fun as if there was no training the next day. And while the other guys were struggling at training, he would be running all over the show, busy talking about stuff that happened the previous day, in the presence of the coaches nogal, ha, ha, ha. That was all because he wouldn’t drink any alcohol at these parties he threw.

There will always be one Thabang Lebese – may his soul rest in peace. Then there was Sakhile Mhlangu. This one time, we were at a nightclub… it was me, him and Nhlanhla “Zizo” Vilakazi. We were busy enjoying ourselves and then, when it was time to leave, we decided to book accommodation for the night in town, to avoid going home at that late hour. While we were walking out of the club, we stumbled upon this girl who was busy crying in front of the exit. Zizo and I just walked past her because we could tell she was drunk and you know people do all sorts of things when they are in that state. Mhlangu, walking behind us, went up to her and tried to console her. While he was doing that, he was busy saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new phone kusasa (tomorrow).” The girl is busy asking, “You promise?” Our friend answers, “Yes, baby.” Talk about a man on a mission, ha, ha, ha. The woman tagged along, and the three of us found a moment to have a quick discussion amongst ourselves, and the concern that Zizo and I had was what was going to happen with her since we had booked one room for the three of us. Mhlangu said, “Khululeka (Don’t worry), Vusi, I’ve got this.” Okay, then, we entered the hotel with the girl. Imagine the looks we received from the hotel staff, three lads with one lass, as if to say, ‘Sies!’ Luckily, Zizo and I dozed off while Mhlangu and the girl were still busy drinking. When we woke up, it’s only Zizo, Mhlangu and I on the bed. No girl whatsoever! Ha, ha, ha. We began asking from Mhlangu where she was, but before he could even answer, we ran to our trousers to check whether our phones and wallets were still around. To our great fortune, they were there and intact. But guess what? Mhlangu’s phone and money had gone for a walk, if you know what I mean. The girl took them while we were fast asleep and left, ha, ha, ha. Eish, our teammate was so stressed because the girl only took what belonged to him. So, I was busy saying to him, “Ungawari baby, ngizokuthengela kusasa ifowuni (Don’t worry, babe, I’ll buy you a new phone tomorrow),” the very same words he used to gain the girl’s trust the previous night. Oh, I just loved the fairness of the woman because she could have stolen from all of us, but she chose to take only from her sweetheart.

That’s unbelievable, ha, ha, ha. Poor Mhlangu must have learnt a lesson from that night. Eish, Lunga, players go through so much you won’t believe it. I remember one time we were in camp in Durban because it was our home game. After we checked in, the late Richard Henyekane realised that he had left his soccer boots at home. So, he goes to the team manager to report the matter and, because we were in Durban, the team manager drove with him to his place. Now, remember that the guy had left his girlfriend earlier coming to camp. Because it was his flat, he didn’t knock before entering. He gets inside, only to find a man wearing his Golden Arrows short and a team travelling vest, sitting on his sofa and watching his TV while drinking his Heineken, ha, ha, ha. Apparently while Henyekane was still trying to come to terms with this set-up, his girlfriend was at the loo. Yho, he came back (to camp) fuming like s**t! That day, I was his roommate. I asked him why he was so upset and he just couldn’t talk, ha, ha, ha. Ubelokhu engingiza kuphela (He was only just mumbling), swearing like nobody’s business. He was saying, “Le n**uza ingijwayela kabi yazi. Ngizoyibulala (This man is disrespecting me. I’m going to kill him).” Just imagine a Tswana guy swearing in IsiZulu and overcome by anger! It was so funny. He said, “Le n**uza le, ngiyithola kwami igqoke izinto zami (Just imagine, I find him at my house, wearing my clothes), watching my TV. Then, after that, he asked me to score a goal for him. Wow, le n**uza ayingizwa maan (he just has no sense of respect for me at all).”

Ha, ha, ha, the guy even asked Henyekane to score a goal for him? We’d be very interested to know if he indeed did score that day. We can imagine the guy and the woman watching the game from the comfort of the bedroom with keen interest, and getting frustrated whenever their favourite striker missed a chance. Thanks for your time, Vusi. Sure!