Welcome back from selfimposed exile, Mhlekazi Jali

● The return of Andile Jali from selfimposed exile is an exciting occurrence on many fronts.

At personal and professional levels, pressing the self-destruct button has previously appeared to be his wont.

Capturing tabloid headlines for tidbits that dragged his name through the mud instead of his playing prowess should not be the pastime of any self-respecting professional footballer.

Owing to matters off the field, he tended to toy with his talent rather than toil to deliver his exceptional best that everybody who has been vaguely exposed to his exploits knows he can.

But boy oh boy, the man from

Matatiele has got his groove back.

In the last couple of months, Jali has been producing such polished performances, it’s like he’s on cloud nine doing a moonwalk, while others around him are chasing their tails.

For Jali, juggling between being an indefatigable master instigator of match intelligence on the offensive and serving as an irrepressible protective shield defensively comes as natural as breathing.

A healthy dollop of confidence and arrogance — otherwise known as confirogance — is a perfect combination for an assured athlete.

That is the state Jali is in. Mind. Body. Soul.

Nothing beats dogged determination, and the resurrection unfolding before our eyes, hopefully, speaks of a second coming of he who has dumped his demons in the dustbin of oblivion.

Indeed, there were times it looked like Jali had gone with the wayward winds. We have seen many players who have returned from their overseas sojourns waste away and getting reduced to a pale

More often, those without the mental fortitude disintegrate

shadow of their former selves.

To borrow from his hard-to-please taskmaster Pitso Mosimane, we had seen this movie before.

More often than not, those without the mental fortitude to pick themselves up and dust themselves off, disintegrate.

When they bid discipline farewell and give recklessness an enthusiastic embrace, they set in motion a downward spiral which ends in one destination: Pauperville.

It says something about Pitso that if you’ve got the class he will make sure you don’t drift away.

At his best, Jali is the best central midfielder in SA.

Cast your mind back to how he embarrassed Sergio Busquets when Bafana scored a massive coup and gave to then world and European champions Spain in 2013.

Looking at their heights, it was a clash of the long and short of it. Jali emerged a cut above and broke the Barcelona bulwark down.

Therein lies the rub.

Jali was able to stand tall against one of the best midfielders in the world.

Six years later, you would have wanted to see an upward trajectory in his career. Sadly, that has not been the case. Rather, regress replaced progress. Thankfully, it is not all over.

He is lean. He’s mean. He turns 30 next April.

If he continues to take care of himself in the way he is right now, if he permanently closes the door on his demons, if he lets the fire in his belly continue to burn, he’ll have a good four years left to look up to.

He can look no further than Hlompho Kekana, his captain and partner in that Downs midfield.

Kekana is a model professional. At 34, he is no spring chicken, but has respected his body as a temple of his talent so much he has been durable since breaking into the professional ranks in 2004.

Jali has got himself a get-out-of-jail card and it is a sight to behold.

Even Mosimane is enthusing that the player we now see is the one that Sundowns bought. and it is a sight to behold.

Welcome back from self-imposed exile, Mhlekazi.

Twitter: @bbkunplugged99