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BUT EVEN IN THAT DARKNESS, THE MAGIC OF THIS ROONEY USED TO PROVIDE A SPARKLE OF DEFIANCE, THE RAINBOW OF PROMISE FOR A BETTER TOMORROW, THE COMFORT OF HOPE THAT THE MYSTERY OF TOMORROW WOULD NOT BE AS BLEAK AS THE MISERY OF YESTERDAY
FOR Rooney, their Green Ronnie and not our unwanted Red Wayne who has just turned down a multi-million dollar retirement adventure in China, the special bonding moment with his new family — who just two years ago represented the ultimate enemy — came shortly before the hour mark on Sunday.

A typically assured touch inside the area gave him control, a drop of the shoulder confused his marker, another touch pushed the ball into a little pocket of space on the outside and, even though his balance appeared to be failing him, his technique didn’t.

Then, a swing of that right foot, to produce the sweetest of connection, gave the ball the lift it required to beat a forest of desperate covering legs as it flew home to give his new franchise the lead on their homecoming show to the place where their Champions League adventure had started exactly 20 years ago.

And, as their Rooney — who turns 25 on June 10 — sped away in animated celebrations, struggling to remove a skin-tight jersey in that explosion of emotions, to be welcomed by the open arms and deafening cries of joy from his new family on Sunday, there was no mistaking that a special bond between the player and the fans had been created.

Football, what a beautiful game, where dreams can come true, where stars don’t necessarily have to come out of privileged backgrounds — but like this Rooney, their Green Ronnie — can be lifted from the slums of Epworth, and all the grinding poverty that stalks their neighbourhoods, to get a chance to also enjoy the good things that life provides.

Where celebrities don’t necessarily have to come from the posh neighbourhoods of our Little Hollywood and Little Beverly Hills, but can emerge from those who have suffered the pain of living tough lives can use their God-given ball skills to become heroes whose names carry their weight in gold they can, like the real Wayne Rooney, be adopted tens of thousands of miles away from England.

There was always a feeling there was something good about this Rooney since he exploded onto the scene in the colours of Monomotapa as a raw teenage talent, oozing with a lot of promise, a gem that just needed some polishing, a promising star who was crying out for a bigger stage and a better team than the modest Monoz.

And that stage was provided by the Glamour Boys, who pounced to secure his signature once a window for his availability was opened by that unfortunate collapse of Monoz, and there were some golden moments — like that late, late wonder winner against Shabanie Mine at Rufaro on September 28, 2014, which eventually proved decisive as Dynamos secured their fourth straight crown only just a point better than ZPC Kariba.

It was also Rooney’s first league championship crown.

And, there were also dark days, like that afternoon on May 3, 2015, when DeMbare were humiliated 0-3 by Chicken Inn in their Rufaro fortress, their worst home league defeat in 10 years, and while we didn’t know it back then, that shattering result marked the beginning of the end of their four-year dominance of the championship race as the pillars that had held them aloft started falling down.

But even in that darkness, the magic of this Rooney used to provide the defiant sparkle, the rainbow of promise for a better tomorrow, the comfort of belief that the mystery of tomorrow would not be as bleak as the misery of yesterday, the little oasis of hope in a desert of hopelessness, the refreshing island of life in the bleak raging ocean of salt water and lifelessness.

He even became a cult-hero they nicknamed him CR7, not the imperious Cristiano Ronaldo and his number seven brand that we gave him back in the days when he arrived at our Theatre of Dreams, but their ChitiyoRonald7 or ChitiyoRooney7, whichever suits you better.

In a frustrating age where there has been a considerable death of genuinely talented footballers on the domestic scene, when the production machine that gave us the likes of Stix, Jubilee, Bambo, King Peter, Chehuchi, Digital, Mawiiii, Rambo, Khatazile, Adamski, The Bomber, Chikwama, Yogi, TNT, Mastermind, Sinyo, Amayenge, to name, but a few, has suddenly lost its productive prowess, in terms of the quality it is supplying us, Rooney was quickly embraced as a star.

Of course, I doubt if he will ever be as good as any of the yesteryear fellows I have mentioned, but that is the way life is and let’s not mock those who are embracing him as their hero, as their star, because that is all they have and, in an era where Leonard Tsipa — at the ripe age of 35 — can feel he was robbed not to have won the Soccer Star of the Year award last season, who are we to suggest that Rooney isn’t worth the excitement his arrival at the Green Machine is generating?

After all, each era has its kind of stars and I have always argued that both Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi wouldn’t have won half the number of Ballon d’Or awards they have taken home if they had played in the era of Stanley Matthews, what a genius, Alfredo di Stefano, the immortal Ferenc Puskas, who scored 84 goals in 85 international matches for Hungary and 514 goals in 529 matches for Real Madrid and his national team, Raymond Kopa, Denis Law, Eusebio, Bobby Charlton, George Best, so brilliant Manchester United fans used to sing “MARADONA GOOD, PELE BETTER AND GEORGE BEST.”

FOR ROONEY, RODDIE AND DENNIE, IT’S A MAKE-OR-BREAK SEASON

My colleague at The Sunday Mail, Mako “Gold” Makomborero, whose knowledge of proper football can never be doubted given he is also a Red Devil, said it was the best performance by the green Rooney he has seen in three or four years and that means a lot.

Having seen him lose his way badly in that disastrous adventure at Harare City, where the absence of the chemistry that comes from an adoring army of fans saw him feel both lonely and confused, it was refreshing to see a glimpse of the Rooney that some of us were beginning to fear we had lost to the temptations of life.

And the one we feared we could never see again on the football field or, at least, playing as well as we hoped.

There are times when the purity of football takes over, and everything that has gone before it — the doubts inflicted by the brutality of a public examination suggesting you might not be really as good as they used to believe, the accusations of betrayal that you have a destructive allergy towards the virtues of loyalty, which made the likes of Ryan Giggs immortals, and the scary tabloid front page headlines of a soul that had lost its way – simply evaporate.

And, what takes over, is the enduring power and beauty of the game itself, the one who was an enemy yesterday being embraced as a hero today, the family that represented the ultimate enemy yesterday embracing you as their darling, their sweetheart, their hero, one of them, the past forgotten, washed away by the intensity of this blooming romance, and a flood of tears in the eyes of others.

I consider it a privilege to have been a witness to all this as it unfolded at the giant stadium on Sunday, as Rooney walked his way into the hearts of the CAPS United fans with that fine goal, which ultimately proved the difference between them waving goodbye to the Champions League, at the very first hurdle, and booking a high-stakes battle against TP Mazembe.

Certainly, one swallow doesn’t make a summer, and Rooney has set himself a high standard he needs to maintain, in this unforgiving game where you are as good as your last match, or your last championship as Claudio Ranieri will testify but, for a footballer who spent the whole of last year staggering in the darkness, it was refreshing to note he isn’t finished yet, as some had suggested, in a premature obituary to this remarkable talent. And, he isn’t the only one facing a defining season where it could be make-or-break.

The maverick Rodreck Mutuma, a self-styled Prince of local football when his goals, and not his occasional visit to a church, made newspaper headlines, is also seeking redemption after being dumped by the Glamour Boys, briefly resurfacing in Mozambique before becoming the first player since Stewart Murisa to belong to Dynamos, CAPS United and Highlanders in his career.

Denver Mukamba, who only five years ago was being toasted as the next big thing in domestic football after winning the Soccer Star of the Year award and, inevitably, being snatched by South African clubs before losing his way in the bright lights of Johannesburg to such an extent he was even considered excess baggage by Jomo Cosmos, also faces a make-or-break season this year to revive a career that has terribly stalled.

FOR THE TRIO, A REFLECTION TO THAT NIGHT IN EGYPT COULD POSSIBLY HELP

As Mukamba battles in the wilderness, desperate to convince a doubting army of critics that he still has to what it takes to be a genuine football star after his career slammed turbulence in South Africa and needing a defining season this year to show that his comical homecoming season last year wasn’t a true reflection of the rot that has crept into his game, it’s difficult to believe that just four years ago he was captaining the Warriors in a World Cup qualifier against the Pharaohs in Egypt.

Yes, as much as you might find this hard to believe today, Mukamba was installed Warriors captain at the relatively young age of 21, by coach Dieter-Klaus Pagels, and he was the team’s skipper in that 2014 World Cup qualifier at the Borg el-Arab Stadium in Egyptian on March 26, 2013 with the German gaffer going for a predominantly youthful Zimbabwe side.

Denver was the leader of a team that featured Knowledge Musona, who scored Zimbabwe’s goal in that 1-2 defeat in which the Pharaohs needing a last-gasp penalty from Mohamed Aboutrika to win the match, Khama Billiat, Ovidy Karuru, Silas Songani, Archford Gutu, Partson Jaure and Washington Arubi.

Pagels, who recommended Musona’s move to the German Bundesliga, had seen a lot of talent, leadership qualities and potential in Denver to give him the responsibility that comes with the massive role of captaining the Warriors in a World Cup qualifier, in Egypt of all places, and was rewarded with a fine performance by a young team unlucky to lose that match.

Mutuma played more than half an hour of that match, partnering Musona and Billiat in attack, after being introduced in the 58th minute and was on the field when the Warriors got their equaliser from the Smiling Assassin.

Chitiyo was an unused substitute in that game.

But while Musona, Gutu, Karuru and Songani have had a taste of European football, since then, and Khama has turned himself into an African champion, played at the FIFA Club World Cup, swept all the individual honours on board in South Africa, was voted into Africa’s All Star XI and, with the Smiling Assassin, inspired the Warriors back to the Nations Cup finals, Denver, Roddie and Rooney have seen their stars fade horribly and fallen down the pecking order when it comes to the senior national team.

And, it’s not just the quality of the company they had in that Warriors’ team which should trigger a painful soul-searching exercise for Dennie, Roddie and Ronney today but also the quality of the Egyptian players they battled against that night on March 26 on that Egypt’s Mediterranean resort city.

Mohamed Sallah played the full game for the Pharaohs and has since played for Chelsea and Italian giants Roma and was one of the stars of the 2017 Nations Cup finals in Gabon while Roddie and Rooney have been reduced to the crumbs of playing at the unfashionable CHAN finals, as was the case in Rwanda last year, where they barely made an impact.

In sharp contrast, Mohamed Elneny, who played the full 90 minutes in that game for the Pharaohs, has found his way into the big league of the English Premiership with Arsenal and starred at the 2017 Nations Cup finals while Denver was being forced to return home last year, from a disastrous Super Diski adventure, and failed to even make an impact on his return to the domestic scene.

Mohamed Nagy Gego, who played 79 minutes of that match for the Pharaohs, has been to Hull City while Ronnie, Denver and Roddie have been seeing the careers stagger backwards with each passing season, since then, provoking questions whether these guys were as good as they were made to believe.

Or we made them to believe.

But, all isn’t lost for them, to prove an army of doubters wrong and Rooney showed us on Sunday he can play at a reasonably good level again and it’s up to him to find the consistency his game is crying out for, to put in the workload needed to improve and the discipline needed to be successful.

Dennie, in my little book still probably the most naturally-gifted footballer of the trio, is now playing for a coach who unleashed his talent on the big stage, who believes in him to such an extent he even went to the footballer’s family this week to plead with them to help him rebuild this player’s shattered confidence, who off-loaded everyone to ensure he builds a team around him and who says he can get the best out of him again, and he can’t blame anyone if he fails.

Roddie, always the maverick, has a tougher battle to convince Bosso fans the gamble their team took on him was worth it but if there is a character, certainly short on talent but long on ambition who can explode if he cuts the excessive baggage of negativity that usually stalks him, then this is the man, with his boot as a makeshift phone, calling home to tell us he has scored.

He has even turned to God and in the Lord there is salvation.

TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

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

Pogbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

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