Thank You Black Stars By Cameron Duodu

I read a funny email from a friend the other day.

It said simply, “Wope football!” (You like football)

It was funny because the guy was not an Akan and I didn't expect him to be addressing me in Akan. And word-perfect Akan at that. For “wope football!” does not merely acknowledge the fact that you “like football” -- conveyed by the literal meaning -- , but has a nuance in it which conveys the idea that you might be rather passionate about the game.

The chuckle that played around my lips when I read that email wasn't caused just by the language aspect of the matter. It also asked, “What else is there to like in the modern world?”

An amazing question but not quite as idle as it sounds. For I used to be quite addicted to jazz music once. But these days there are hardly any jazz “greats” around that one would greatly love to go and hear.

As far as I am concerned, the last of my favouritest to go was Miles Davis. I shall never forgive myself for missing his last-ever gig in Britain — at the Hammersmith Odeon, in London, in June 1990. Within 15 months, he was dead.

Sonny Rollins is still around.. But I've heard him so often that I don't go to hear him any longer. I want to remember him when he was at his best — with one foot tapping away, while the rest of his body remained fairly still, talking melody through his horn.

I went to hear Larry Correall the other day. Not quite the same buzz I used to get, from the likes of Joes Pass.

But football remains — always exciting. The BBC interviewed C K Gyamfi the other day, and he was talking about the old days of the Black Stars. Amazing players were around in his day — Edward Acquah, Baba Yara, Aggrey Fynn, Wilberforce Mfum, Mohammed Salisu and CK himself.

But the tree of football genius keeps dropping fruits of incredible sweetness year after year.

So, after the old Black Stars had gone, we continued to cheer for Anthony Yeboah, Abedi Pele, Odartey Lamptey, and now Michael Essien and Sule Muntari.

Without the last two players, many of us had lost hope that we would be able to go forward to the quarter finals of the current CAF tournament.

But our boys managed to beat Angola at home nevertheless. They deserve our praises; they deserve our thanks. Very little had been expected of them.

So much so that oneo on to record the match and went to bed. His ploy was that if we lost the match, he wouldn't watch it at all. Great was his surprise when he woke up to learn of the result, which made him quickly put on his video, and enjoyed some of the best 90 minutes of his life.

“I am relieved!” he later confessed. “Now, even if we lose in the semi-finals, I can say that with the team we've got, it was great achievement.”

I share his opinion. I do wish, though, that our coach would stop making elementary mistakes, which expose us to unnecessary risk and ensure that we are only saved by luck.

After our goal, our boys, no doubt playing to instruction, crowded into their own half, determined to defend the single goal at all costs.

But this meant that the Angolans were able to lob long balls, often quite accurately, to their players who were hovering in our half.

Whenever such long balls arrived in our half, they set our boys scurrying for them, thus abandoning the plans they'd made for shadowing particular Angolan players.

As a result, the Angolans were able to direct several shots at out goal, which goalkeeper Kingson was brilliant enough to be able to save. At least three good shots by the Angolan forwards should have brought them goals. In all fairness, one felt sorry for them.

I was reminded of the time we played against Nigeria at the CAF tournament in Egypt in 2006 and we resorted to defensive play and ended up losing by a lone goal.

I couldn't believe that Ghana, whose forte is to play entertaining football, passing man to man and being cheered even when we didn't win, could have played such a dull match and lost into the bargain.

Well, the best of luck to our boys. We have a chance and they should make the most of it.

Of course, it is not entirely in their hands: the coach will tell them what to do. We must pray that he tells them the right thing, that's all.

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The debate about Haiti goes on unabated. Some forum debaters have been defending Pat Robertson, the evangelist who said that Haiti had suffered the earthquake because “it had signed a pact with the devil”. How can they?.

To begin with, even if God wanted to punish the people of Haiti for the “pact with the devil” (and the fact that Pat Robertson says so does not make it so: Pat Robertson can only interpret to the world, what he thinks is in God's mind, but has no exclusive access to God's mind!) the current population of Haiti had nothing to do with the pact. And again, even if they were being punished for the pact, it would be inconceivable that God would be so wicked as to include children, who have not yet learnt how to “sin”, in the punishment.

And even if Pat Robertson was right and indeed, the people of Haiti were being punished for the “pact”, would this be the best time to say so?

How can a Christian be so bereft of compassion that he would talk of punishment to people who were dying by the hundreds of thousands under rubble; who, even when they had escaped from the fallen walls of their homes, were dying of hunger and thirst; who were exposed to the elements; and who, charitable people all over the world were trying to help?

Suppose Pat Robertson's words stopped other people from helping them?

If Pat Robertson was a good Christian, would he not remember two of the sayings of Jesus? These are (1) he who is without sin, let him cast the first stone and (2) a man is not defiled except by what comes out of his own mouth.

Pat Robertson, Rush Limbaugh and his ilk, who sneered at the people of Haiti in their hour of need, have all defiled themselves — out of what came out of their own mouths.

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