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Sharuko On Saturday
I WAS 10, somehow, it had to be, somehow, it could only have been — the age, the magical number and all its symbolism to a beautiful game that would define our lives.

Pele’s number, the one he immortalised, and then presented to the world, as a gift, both a reminder of greatness and a symbol of excellence.

Diego Maradona’s number, the one whose magical left foot could paint pictures, and destroy defensive barriers, in a way that made football both addictive and seductive.

Lionel Messi’s number, the diminutive artist who has made football look like vintage art, as priceless as he makes it look so effortless, the one who plays with a touch of both royalty and regality.

Zico’s number, Roberto Baggio’s number, Ronaldinho’s number, the number of the jersey Gheorghe Hagi, the Maradona of the Carpathian Mountains, used to wear.

The one Zinedine Zidane wore, only when national duty called, in those French colours, when those French fans started singing, “vive, vive, vive les Blues,’’ this son of Algerian immigrants, took his country to World Cup glory.

The iconic number that now defines a position, on the field, the playmaker, the one who conducts the orchestra, the one who smashes the opposition’s walls of defiance.

The one which was on the shirt Bob Marley wore, during an exhibition match in Rio de Janeiro in March 1980, with the name Pele at the back, and Santos on its chest.

A month later, Bob was here.

Singing on the occasion of our night of Independence at Rufaro, exactly 40 years to this day, living long enough to see his dream of our freedom, come true.

A year later, Bob was dead at the relatively young age of 36, but his legacy of greatness in music — where he would have qualified as a number 10 if this was football — lives on.

I’m 50 now.

And, on the occasions they don’t call me Chakariboy, my colleagues call me the Football Fellow.

Because, I’m part of the generation that was born in the year the World Cup, for the first time, featured representatives from all the continents.

And, for the first time, the tournament was shown on colour on TV.

That was 1970.

The first, and only time a player, Pele, won the World Cup three times.

The first time yellow and red cards were used in football, the first time the penalty shootout was adopted in and the goal difference rule came into being.

The first World Cup held outside Europe and South America and the tournament where the Game of the Century was played.

It featured Italy and Germany, a World Cup semi-final, which finished 4-3 in favour of the Italians, with five of the seven goals being scored in extra-time.

But, that just tells a tiny fraction of our story.

We are the generation which arrived in the world on the 100th anniversary of the year goalkeepers were first introduced in football in 1870.

And, on the 100th anniversary of the first international match between England and Scotland on March 5, 1870, at the Oval in London.

The generation that arrived on the 80th anniversary of the introduction of nets, in goals, for the first time, the 60th anniversary of the year an African national football team played an international match for the very first time.

The Pharaohs of Egypt had that honour, when they took on Italy, at the 1920 Summer Olympics in Belgium.

We are the generation that arrived on the 40th anniversary of the first World Cup, won by hosts Uruguay, in 1930 and, of course, the 20th anniversary of the Maracanazo.

The day when a match attracted 200 000 fans, the highest attendance figure for a football game, when Uruguay beat Brazil 2-1 in the final in the Maracana in 1950.

The generation that arrived on the 10th anniversary of the first Euros, held in France in 1960, the first Copa Libertadores, won by Uruguay side CA Penarol and the first Intercontinental Cup, won by Real Madrid.

 

THE WARRIORS, 1980, FINALLY, THE GREEN GRASS OF HOME

Some of us, the children of 1970, were in our mothers’ wombs in November 1969, when a group of footballers from this country took on Australia in a ‘70 World Cup qualifier.

Whoever said politics and football don’t mix certainly didn’t know what they were talking about because, when it really matters, the power of politics will always subdue the beauty of this game.

Back in ‘69, a neutral country had to be found to stage that World Cup qualifier, because of the toxicity of the politics which prevailed in this country back then.

Of course, that eventually led to the national team being barred from international football matches, under FIFA’s supervision, until its return at Independence.

That was 40 years ago.

And, the Warriors could, at long last, play either a World Cup or AFCON qualifier in the comfort of their home and before their fans.

We were now 10-year-olds, the generation that had arrived in 1970.

And, in the year in which our ages were the symbol of the very number (10), which represents greatness in this game, our Warriors returned to the international football fold with the freedom to play in their backyard.

Even the four-team Independence Trophy tournament — featuring Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi and Tanzania — almost produced 10 goals in the competitive three matches.

That was, until Shacky Tauro added the 11th (exactly the number of players who start a match for a football team), in the 89th minute.

Until today, the Zambians dispute that goal, feeding from the protests from their then captain Jan Simulambo, that even a pilot in a jumbo jet would have seen that Tauro was in an offside position.

It proved to be the winner of that final, in which the Warriors beat Chipolopolo 2-1 at Rufaro, starting a fierce rivalry that lives to this day.

The hosts stormed back from an early setback, after Peter Kaumba fired the Zambians into the lead, to score twice in the last eight minutes, and win the match.

David Mandigora, who would be named the first Soccer Star of the Year in Independent Zimbabwe, equalised for the Warriors in the 82nd minute.

That was the 10th goal of the tourney, in the three competitive matches, after the Warriors had thrashed Mozambique 6-0 in the semis and Chipolopolo had beaten Tanzania 2-0.

And, as if fate was having a hand in the proceedings, the 10th goal — for us the G10s who believe we are forever associated with this game — was scored in the 82nd minute (add eight plus two and you get why we believe in our story so much).

If you take away the contentious winner Tauro scored, just to cheer our Zambian colleagues given the way they protested against it, you will see an interesting pattern related to the two goals that day — the ninth and tenth of the tourney.

They were scored by two players, Peter and David, and if you add the number of letters which make their two names, something which our G10 generation was obsessed with, you will get the number 10.

The majority of us, the G10s, were in Grade Four at Independence and if you multiply our age, and our class back then, you get the number 40, which represents the Independence anniversary we are celebrating today.

 

A GENERATION FOREVER LINKED WITH FOOTBALL’S FINEST MOMENTS

 

Maybe, it was written in the stars that the team which would be domestic champions, in the year that we turned 10 would, just like Brazil in the year we were born, represent greatness in football.

For, how do we then explain that Dynamos, who emerged as the champions when we celebrated our 10th year — Pele, Maradona and Messi’s number — would go on to dominate domestic football?

Or, maybe, the football gods decided that another 10 years should pass, that number again, before Highlanders, who would go on to become the second most successful local club, found a way to be champions for the first time.

That was in 1990.

We watched as Bosso finally came of age and, whether it was something to do with us, the football generation, having completed our second decade on earth, no one will ever know.

But, maybe, just to highlight that things were not normal, just as what had happened in the game when we arrived on the scene 20 years earlier, history was made that year.

The Soccer Stars of the Year had been introduced in this country in 1969, at a time a big number of us were in our mothers’ wombs, in the year man found a way to land on the moon, one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.

Whereas our arrival in 1970 came with all sorts of firsts, including the only time a player has won the World Cup three times, our arrival on the scene in 1990, also came with seismic                   changes.

Bosso became champions, for the first time and, for the first time in the history of the awards, there was a tie for the Soccer Star of the Year with Peter Ndlovu and George Nechironga sharing the gong.

It has never happened again.

But, our presence, and whatever we had, wasn’t only felt on the domestic front.

For the first time in history, three clubs from the same country — Juventus, Sampdoria and AC Milan of Italy — won all the three UEFA club competitions that year in 1990.

It has never happened again.

That same year, the Republic of Ireland, in their first appearance at the World Cup at Italia ‘90, reached the quarter-finals.

Nothing strange about that until you get to know they reached that stage without even winning a single game.

It has never happened again.

They say life begins at 40 and, by the time we reached that age, the FIFA World Cup rolled into Africa for the first time in 2010.

On the occasions I’m feeling rather low, I also call myself the Sanctions Son — part of the generation which spent its first 10 (that number again) years under sanctions in Rhodesia.

And, the one that has spent its last 18 years under sanctions in Zimbabwe.

The 22-year break we lived without sanctions, as fate might have it, somehow, represents the number of players on the field when a football match starts.

We came and gave the World Cup its colour on TV, and that happened exactly 40 years after the first tournament was held in Uruguay in 1930.

Now, you can even freeze the action on TV, rewind it to watch it again if you feel you want to see that goal once more and, while watching Messi, you can record, on the same TV, the other number 10, Sergio Aguero, playing for Manchester City at the same time.

Cheers Zimbabwe, life begins at 40, and hopefully you get to fulfil all your dreams and trust us, as they say in that Adidas advert, Impossible Is Nothing.

Enjoy your very special day, the beautiful Land of the Warriors, the best climate in the world, the best performing athletes in the world, per population, the country with the most decorated African Olympian, has produced a number one golfer in the world, number one swimmer in the world, number one batsman in the world and number one diver in the world.

The first African footballer to win the UEFA Champions League, the first African goalkeeper to win the UEFA Champions League and the first African footballer to feature in the English Premiership.

Best wishes from the Class of ’70 represented, of course, by the Chakariboy (oh, by the way the number of letters in my Twitter name are 10).

To God Be The Glory!

Peace to the GEPA Chief, the Big Fish, George Norton and all the Chakariboys in the struggle.

Come on United!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bruno, Bruno, Bruno, Bruno, Bruno, Bruno!

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Email — [email protected], [email protected]

You can also interact with me on Twitter — @Chakariboy, Facebook, Instagram — sharukor and every Wednesday night, at 9.45pm, when I join the legendary Charles “CNN’’ Mabika and producer Craig “Master Craig’’ Katsande on the ZBC television magazine programme, “Game Plan”.