That women gave up on their men on matters football is a historical fact at least in Kenya. Majority of women and football never mix. They have this tendency of feeling disenfranchised. They detest your boys who always happen to poach you for an entire weekend when you should be basking with Jamali, your 2 year old son on the balcony as you train him to walk and pronounce words. They screamed and barked until they ran out of their voices. They sought the Zanzibar witch-doctor who has his address around your estate, it backfired on their faces. They tried Kilimani Mums on Facebook, who were of the opinion of buying DSTV, it didn’t work even with all the cajoling. Men don’t watch football alone. Its nonchalant. Its like imbibing a flat beer or enduring nags of a woman under the weather. You know what I mean. There is no icing on the cake nor glee and exuberance.
There is nothing that beats men gathered together, gazing on a humongous TV screen, watching the game of football. Men are competitive by nature and this thrill is best manifested around these times. Naturally, football lovers are demarcated into four types. Chelsea, Arsenal, Man U or Man City. A Liverpool’s game is only interesting to watch when they play the big four. Otherwise its a big joke for a man to proclaim to be a Liverpool die hard or anything below that. That’s a guy you shouldn’t take seriously even on matters pertaining life. Watching football is akin to getting hooked to drugs. Its addictive and controlling. It remains to be the best unchallenged invention of ‘killing time’. Thanks to football, entertainment joints laugh all the way to the bank.
Women still try to comprehend how and why men remain so loyal to this game universally. To them, its baffling how men prove to be committed. Relationships and marriages have been shattered, suicides have been committed and fiances’ dumped on the verge of a wedding all in the name of football. During the big games, some become richer while others part with their hard earned money over the multi billionaire industry of football betting. Men tremble as they take uneven sips of bitter drinks. Others fidget their chairs while some smoke and fart away. Others will draw stupor faces, their bodies ducked like gazebos in a plateau. Hearts pound with acceleration all in tandem with goosebumps as thin sweats meander to the feet. On some occasions, that man who depicts zero emotions in the house will be spotted wailing and screeching, in the name of football.
In these rooms you meet ‘football managers’ who’ll expunge your eardrums as they prattle and whine over Mourinho or Van Gaal’s silly substitution or team selection. This is when your patience comes to test. These are the same chaps who didn’t even grow up playing football. You’ll also share the same table with men with pot bellies from here to Jo’burg as well as Mwangi Fangi your mechanic, who happens to blend so easily with Sam. Sam is the tranquil and seemingly collected guy who earns a living by analysing the stock market. On a typical day, Mwangi would be on a dark, dirty apron while Sam will do fitting suits. These two chaps will have a hearty chat as they watch football. That’s football for you. Its creates networks, open ups opportunities, makes new friends and rewards you with something to tease the ladies in the room with. On the flip side, some burn bridges, they make foes as fast as they make friends.
Its funny that men will easily recall all the football incidences and trophies won by their teams but will scratch over their receding hairlines to remember the first surprise from their spouses.To you women who’ll still insist on accompanying your men to watch football even when you don’t differentiate World Cup and E.P.L, kindly learn to remain at home and give your house girl an off or rather meet your girlfriends. There is joy to a man when he checks in the house to be welcomed by warm tea or ready dinner by the wife. No pun intended.