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WHEN the world’s ultimate under-achievers finally ended the longest wait for success by a major sporting franchise, by winning baseball’s World Series, the proud mayor of their city provided the sound bites that captured the relief and joy that swept through this American metropolitan.

For 108 years, the Chicago Cubs had waited for the moment that seemingly would never come — two World Wars had been started and ended, man had been to the moon and back home and the Titanic had been built, slammed into an iceberg and went down to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

The Cubs last triumph had come in 1908, a long way back into a time when only two in every 10 adults in the United States could read or write, when only 232km of road in that country was paved and the maximum speed you could drive your car, if you happened to be one of the 8 000 American car owners, was just 16km/hr.

But that lengthy wait finally ended in November last year when the Cubs won the World Series to erase more than a century of pain, frustration and conspiracy theories related to their trail of under-achievement.

And it was the mayor of their city, Rahm Israel Emmanuel, who led the chorus of endorsement for the Cubs’ phenomenal success story.

“The city of Chicago could not be more proud of the Cubs, and we are going to throw them — and their fans — a celebration worthy of the history the team made,” he said.

And, party they did.

An estimated five million people, the biggest single gathering of human beings to be brought together by a sporting event in history, were there to cheer the Cubs at their victory parade.

Given that Chicago has about 10 million residents — as many people as all the Portuguese or Greek nationals in this world and five times the number of people who call themselves Batswana — this means that half of this metropolitan, came out to party with the Cubs that day.

The city’s fathers even dyed the Chicago River in blue, in honour of the Cubs whose primary colour is blue.

For a mayor whose city has the biggest number of violent gangs in the world, with more than 100 000 active members involved in deadly gang warfare accounting for the majority of the 726 murders in Chicago last year alone — the highest number of homicide cases in a single year in more than a quarter-of-a-century — a Cinderella sporting achievement provided a refreshing distraction from the gloom of the daily killings in these gang wars.

Three months before the Cubs sealed their World Series triumph, Chicago buried 78 of its residents killed in August alone, with 400 people being shot in that deadly month, which represented the peak of a year that saw 2 800 people being shot in the city and 726 deaths resulting from those shootings.

Against such a grim background it was only fitting, probably, that the gods of sport — that powerful tool that can provide a ray of light in the darkness, a rainbow of life in the eye of a hurricane and an island of hope in an ocean of hopelessness — should give the people of Chicago a fascinating tale to cheer their spirits with the Cubs writing a success story made in heaven.

Sport, that powerful of all weapons, had once again demonstrated its massive strength.

Others will say sport also has the power to be as prophetic as it can be political and it’s not a coincidence that when the Cubs won the World Series, in 1908 and last year, the Americans went to the polls to elect their President and, on both occasions, it was the Republican candidate — William Howard Taft in 1908 and Donald Trump in 2016 — who emerged victorious.

MY MAYOR AND HIS QUEER ATTITUDE TOWARDS THE POWER OF SPORT

Lucky them, the people of Chicago, they have a mayor who understands the power of sport, who didn’t treat the Cubs as a bunch of perennial failures, who had flattered to deceive in more than a century of tormenting the emotions of fans who believed in them and, in their hour of isolated triumph, embraced them as a force that his city should be proud of.

Lucky them, the people of Chicago, they have a mayor who appreciates that sport is a very special weapon that can unite the people of his city, which can destroy racial, tribal and political barriers, which can bring a cheer to the spirits of the residents of his city, which can bring a rainbow of hope even in the wreckage of the gang violence that has consumed the soul of his city.

Make no mistake about it, I’m a proud Chakari boy, very, very proud of my roots in those rich goldfields of Chakari, this paradise of fertile soils that produce gigantic farmlands so green with life CAPS United fans would believe this was the earthly Garden of Eden and back home we don’t have a mayor, but instead, we have a welfare officer.

I am also a very proud adopted son of Harare and that I have spent all my working life in this city — 25 years to be precise — qualifies me to call myself a member of the Old Hararians, a son of this city of more than two million people who call it their home.

But, I have to say I have serious reservations with the way the leaders of the city that I have called home for more than a quarter-of-a-century treat sport as something that doesn’t matter at all to such an extent the mayor of my adopted home can even have the nerve to come out in public to say he is quitting his role as patron of the football club owned by the council that he leads.

Of course, Bernard Manyenyeni is right to speak out against what he claims to be alleged rampant abuse of public funds — which could have been directed elsewhere, including buying refuse collection trucks for Harare rather than ploughed into a football club — and anyone who has seen the garbage that litters our streets will certainly support him.

Given a choice, between injecting money into a football club or investing those funds in securing refuse collection trucks, which can keep our capital city clean and ensure its people, especially our vulnerable kids who are the future of our nation, to remain healthy, only a madman will argue in the corner of those who want to put that money into a football team.

In this argument, the mayor ticks all the good boxes. He comes out as a responsible first citizen of his city who cares about the health of its residents — which should always be his first priority and should never be compromised — and that he took the bold move to quit as patron of Harare City Football Club, because he felt the project was a waste of money that should be directed to other more important sectors of the city, was probably right.

Our capital city clearly has a lot of serious challenges, there are potholes that have turned into craters everywhere you drive, water is never available in the suburbs, waste is rarely collected, there is barely enough housing for its booming population, the traffic in the central business district — which the kombi and mushikashika drivers have turned into a lawless jungle where they don’t have any respect for the traffic lights or can drive in the wrong direction in one-way streets — is a mess.

All that needs the attention of our mayor, and a massive financial outlay, to sort things out and, during such desperate times — when a city that used to pride itself as the Sunshine City has now turned into the Garbage City — the funding of a football club should be the least of its priorities.

THE MAYOR, THE FOOTBALL CLUB AND A TRICKY RELATIONSHIP

But while I agree with his argument, I have a serious problem with his chameleonic approach — where he apparently sings a tune that suits the moment and when you are in such a position, where standing by what you believe in is the hallmark of great leadership, you shouldn’t be a man who regularly shifts what you believe in to suit the moment.

Just two years ago, on November 1, 2015, Manyenyeni was cheering the same Harare City FC from his VVIP seat in their Chibuku Super Cup final showdown against Dynamos and when they won, he was there on that stage, feasting on the glow of the moment, flashing his big smile to all those photographers and celebrating with the players.

“The coach was very tactical, he got his team to contain Dynamos and secure the victory in the first half,’’ he told the media.

“I think in terms of talent we have got what it takes to get into the African journey and would like to support the guys, in fact we are carrying a lot of tail wind as we push into Africa.

“In terms of resources it is going to be challenging, but the national flag is at stake and we have to fly the brand.’’

A year earlier, in December 2014, Manyenyeni was the guest of honour at the Harare City FC end-of-year party, held at an exclusive hotel located in the capital’s leafy northern suburbs, which is expensive to rent for such occasions, and not either in the boardroom at Rufaro or Town House, where they would not have spent a cent to host the function.

The fact that this club had just avoided relegation on the final day of the season, when they beat Chicken Inn 1-0 at Rufaro, didn’t trouble the mayor’s conscience for him to question the relevance of partying in a season in which the club — which the previous year had been beaten to the league title on the final day of the campaign — had terribly under-achieved.

Instead, he was the guest of honour, enjoying the party without questioning his conscience as to why he should be the one who should hand over $5 000 to defender David Kutyauripo, for being the Player of the Year, $4 000 to Martin Vengesai for being the Players’ Player of the Year, $3 000 to James Jam for being the most consistent player of the year and another $3 000 to Osborne Mukuradare for being the club’s top goal-scorer in a season this club had avoided relegation on the final day of the season.

A further $2 000 to Francisco Zekumbawire, for being the Most Disciplined Player at the club, $1 500 to Raymond Uchena, for being the most improved player and another $1 500 to Munyaradzi Nenye-Diro for being the most loyal player in a season the club had just survived relegation by the skin of their teeth.

But, for me, it’s what the mayor said in the club’s Official Yearbook, more than his presence on that night of opulence in a season in which this club had terribly misfired, which mattered and — as I recall his words back then and what he is saying now as he grandstands in a sickening portrayal of himself as the virtual saint in a sea of sinners — they paint a picture of a man who doesn’t live by his principles.

“The 2014 soccer curtain has finally come down, leaving us to tell the tales of a Sunshine Boy for 2015. For me, it was not just the joy of watching the few games that I attended, I was with the team in spirit throughout every minute in the three-stage drama we went through,” he said in his message.

“Despite our worrying start to the 2014 season, we were later seen fighting for honours in the Chibuku Super Cup where we were denied glory in the final minute. The battle for 2015 playing rights also went into extra-time. The relegation zone was really over-crowded — the rest is history.

“To the team management and players (old and new), I thank you for your energies in 2014 and wish you a Merry Christmas. I extend best wishes for a better 2015 playing season.”

That was just 27 months ago.

Ironically, in February 2014 — 10 months before Manyenyeni partied with his Harare City FC players and officials at that end-of-year party, the Harare City Council’s finance committee chairman, Norman Markham, quit his post in a resignation letter sent to the mayor in which the issue of the football club featured prominently.

“It is with regret that I tender my resignation as chairman of the finance committee and indeed the committee itself. I cannot believe that anyone with any self-respect would chair the Harare City Council finance committee as it stands and runs today,’’ wrote Markham.

“An amazing folly, which I cannot accept, is a budget of US$1,6 million to sponsor a football club in the current economic crisis.’’

Ten months after receiving that letter, Manyenyeni was feasting at that football club’s end-of-year party and Mr Mayor, try convincing someone like Markham today that you are a principled man, who cares for the priorities of your city when you didn’t only ignore what he stood for, but even went on attend a lavish party, and if you do that, good luck.

For goodness sake, dear Bernard, please don’t remind me of the Mayor of Casterbridge, Michael Henchard, in that classic novel by Thomas Hardy, who got drunk on rum, argued with his wife Susan and decided to auction her off, together with their baby daughter Elizabeth, to a passing sailor.

Our mayor should be asking himself some tough questions, right now, about why he was apparently sleeping on duty when his grounds people were not removing the artificial turf at Rufaro in December and replacing it with natural grass back then, so that this stadium would be ready for the start of the Premiership, rather than this laughable scenario where they started planting the grass just two weeks before the football season begins.

Now we have a crisis of stadiums in the capital and Rufaro, which gives the council a lot of revenue every time Dynamos or CAPS United play there, remains closed because the city fathers — whose leader speaks loudly about the need for funds to buy new refuse collection trucks — chose to sleep on duty.

Why has the council done little to renovate Rufaro, even though they get a fortune from the punitive rentals that football clubs pay, all these years with the only major facelifts — the laying of the artificial surface and the erection of the City End and Mbare End stands — being done by FIFA and the Government?

Why has the council done little to renovate Gwanzura, where raw sewage from blocked toilets flows into the playing surface and, if our mayor cares so much about our health — given he talks a lot about refuse collection trucks — why haven’t we heard him condemn this stadium as a health hazard for thousands of his football playing residents who play at the old stadium week-in-and-week-out?

Why has the council let Dzivaresekwa Stadium, which a few years ago was good enough to host Premiership games, succumb to this decay? If you really care, Mr Mayor, why do you play golf at an exclusive sports club that pays only a dollar, a year, in rentals to your city council and don’t find that repulsive?

Imagine how much revenue your city would generate if these exclusive golf clubs, where you play your golf without having the conscience that they are not paying their dues to your city, were to pay market rentals like the 20 percent of gross gate-takings that you take away from Dynamos every time they play at Rufaro?

Maybe, Mr Mayor, you don’t need to worry, really, because — after all — even your colleagues in Chitungwiza turned down a proposal by Prophet Magaya to renovate Chibuku Stadium because they are happy to just see it wasting away.

 TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

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