Ruthless Clever Boys send Boyne Tigers home with nothing after a 4-0 drubbing
Bidvest’s Keegan Ritchie gives a Tiger player a tough time on the home pitch. Photo: Phumi Ramalepe
By: Phumi Ramalepe
Bidvest Wits secured their spot in the Last 16 after beating the amateur Boyne Tigers 4-0 in the Nedbank Cup’s Last 32 match at Bidvest stadium on the evening.
Relentless showers of rain and slippery grass presented no challenge to Wits’ Haashim Domingo who scored the team’s first goal in the 11th minute.
Less than ten minutes later, Scottish striker Simon Murray dribbled past the Tigers and passed the ball to Domingo who secured the second goal.
The unmerciful Clever Boys gave the timid Tigers a tough time on the pitch by dominating their weak defence. Murray scored the third goal in the 20th minute. The fourth goal was bagged by Murray again in the 38th minute.
The striker was happy to have contributed to all four goals in the match. “You never know with an unknown team what you’re gonna get but it’s nice to contribute all four goals for the team. We got into the next round and hopefully we can make it to the finals”, he said to Wits Vuvuzela.
The Tigers returned with force in the second half trying to secure a goal, but were not successful, in spite of Bidvest not scoring any more goals in the second half.
Bidvest Wits coach Gavin Hunt told Wits Vuvuzela that he was impressed with the Boys’ performance.
“The performance was good and we in the 16. We’ll see how far we can go and take it from there. We obviously expect to win the Nedbank Cup,” he said.
A Wits supporter, Henrie Brownliy, thought the game was a breeze for the Clever Boys. “We don’t know the team really… so I think we had to suss them out in the first ten minutes. We put pressure on them… after that it was like a walk in the park,” he said. With a smile on his face, Brownliy added that “I think what’s important is the win.”
Bidvest Wits will be going head-to-head against Maritzburg United at the Bidvest Stadium on Friday, February 1, at 20:00 in the Premier Soccer League.
Bringing people together on dusty grounds and cement pavilions to hosting over 40 000 people at Orlando Stadium, the timeless tradition of soccer becomes more than a game but a way of life not only for players but for supporters too.
Alone black and yellow soccer jersey hangs on the laundry line, giving an indication this is the correct address. A man walks out of the house with a smile on his face and reaches out with a firm handshake. Sipho Nkosi, ‘Mr S’, is preparing to watch a soccer match with his brother and friends the following day.
“Tomorrow is a long day,” he says as he walked back into his house to collect a copy of the soccer newspaper, SoccerLaduma. “Look! There are five matches tomorrow. From half past three, I will be watching soccer. I am just getting my kit ready,” says the 31-year-old.
This Friday afternoon, October 27, in Orlando East is filled with people scurrying around Rathebe Street. The sense of community is amplified by greetings from both sides of the road as the ‘gents’ salute each other with handshakes and slang greetings. “Verder?” (How are you?) is constantly repeated as you walk down from JB’s liquor store.
Vegetable stalls, spaza shops and yard sales are not the only hype of the street on a Friday afternoon in the streets of Orlando. Worn with pride, soccer jerseys in all forms and colours are paraded on either side of the road. Black and white for Orlando Pirates here, Kaizer Chiefs supporters in yellow and black there, some faded and others crisply new.
Further down the road, where Herby Mdingi and Rathebe streets intersect, on the sidewalk of house number 826 sit two men on black and white wooden benches, which have been embellished with a neatly-erected wooden structure. A few steps away from the sitting area is a table with assorted sweets and cigarettes for sale. Next to the stall is a tall white board with black writing: “Orlando Park… The Happy-Peoples, 826”, flanked on either side, by an Orlando Pirates football club skull emblem.
Orlando Pirates supporter, Ace Mokoena, whiles away a Sunday afternoon in the park dedicated to his favourite football club.
Orlando Park was curated by 59-year-old Lazarus Mthe in 2016, in honour of Orlando Pirates Football Club, established in Orlando in 1937.
Offered a yellow vuvuzela by his brother, Ace Mokoena, who lives in the same yard, Mthe refuses to blow it saying he cannot be seen holding a Kaizer Chiefs vuvuzela.
Speaking in Zulu, Mthe describes his passion for Orlando Pirates as a young boy with a smile on his face. “Ngiyithanda ngenhliziyo yami yonke, (I love it [the team] with my whole heart),” he says bringing his hands closer to his heart. Mthe describes how he fell in love with soccer in the 1960s as a hobby that he was introduced to at Orlando High School when playing with friends during break times and after school matches in the streets of his hometown.
The park’s wooden structure which still needs restructuring, and another coat of paint to make it look “more attractive”, according to Mthe, is accessible not only to the community but anyone who wants to take a seat in the Orlando Pirates haven. “I made this for the people, especially for gogos who walk to and from the clinic. They can sit here and rest. People love sitting here. Pirates played at the stadium a few weeks ago and people from Vereeniging parked here and took photos and I told them it was sharp,” he says.
Mthe and Mokoena not only share a passion for soccer, but support Orlando Pirates religiously as a family. House 826 in Herbi Mringa Street is a compound filled with friendly and welcoming faces. In the yard stands a pink house, next to which are neatly corrugated shacks. Mokoena’s and Mthe’s shacks can be identified by the colours and “Up the Bucs” painted on the sides of their respective structures.
Mokoena recalls the last Orlando Pirates versus Kaizer Chiefs game he watched at Orlando Stadium a year ago, from the atmosphere before the game to how he felt afterwards. “Eish, that game! I have never experienced anything like that before in my life. It was packed outside. There was black and white everywhere,” he says, with an overjoyed smile on his face.
Before going to watch a game, Mokoena prepares by gathering his regalia. Shaking his body, he describes how he wakes up with the “spirit” for the game. “By the time I leave for the stadium, I am telling you, you will cry. I look good,” he adds.
Building the Pirates Park was an idea supported by Mokoena from the moment he knew that the park was dedicated to Orlando Pirates.
“My brother put everything together bit by bit. He got some stuff from people in the community and made it happen. When I saw them working with the paint and I saw that it was black and white, I was very happy. But what makes me unhappy is that people come at night and damage what he has made, as you can see it is open to the public and that is not nice. Yes it is attractive, but not like before because people damaged it,” says Mokoena.
A family tradition preserved for future generations
Julius Sono keeps the Sono home well maintained with hopes that it will be declared as a heritage site in memory of his father, Eric “Scarra” Sono.
Just two blocks away from the Pirates Park is a house with “SONO” written boldly on golden plates on the face brick wall. On the window facing the street is the reflection of a faded Orlando Pirates flag.
“Ekse bra KK” shouts a man walking past, avoiding stepping on the lawn as the son of soccer legend Eric ‘Scara’ Sono drills more golden plated letters onto the brick wall.
Eric ‘Scara’ Sono captained Orlando Pirates in 1957 and used football as a way of disrupting the apartheid system by bringing multiracial players to join Orlando Pirates despite segregation laws.
According to the official Orlando Pirates history, players Bernard ‘Dancing Shoes’ Hartze and Mannie ‘Al die Hoekies’ Davids were some of the players that Sono was instrumental in bringing to Orlando Pirates.
The left-footed soccer player died in a car accident in 1964 leaving a legacy of soccer through his family.
His sons, Jomo “Black Prince” Sono and Julius “KK” Sono, continued the family tradition of soccer.
The Sono home has been transformed and is managed by Julius as a business park that seeks to uplift and enable soccer talent within the Orlando community.
“I am following the tradition of my family of dealing and growing the community through the religion of soccer,” he says.
Affectionately known in the community as “KK”, Julius joined Orlando Pirates in the 1980s where he continued to play for five years.
He wears the Orlando Pirates jersey with pride as he walks around the home mowing the lawn and making sure that the Sono name stands firmly on the wall.
IN ACTION: Julius “KK” Sono playing for Orlando Pirates in 1980.
From his room, Sono brings out a collection of black and white photocopies of his family’s history in soccer. “Soccer was very political at the time my father was playing. I don’t remember much, but he had many friends of different races and the authorities did not like it,” he says.
The official Orlando Pirates history says that, “During apartheid, the black majority were withheld from public gatherings in fear of political discussions. Church and soccer were the only way to get together.”
Articles dated between 1963 and 1980 tell a story on their own, mixed with black and white photographs, spread on the glass table in the Sono living room as “KK” describes how fans adored his skills on the field.
“The supporters loved me,” says the 53-year-old. “They used to shout at the coach to put me on the field. I was dangerous because I played with feeling,” he adds, as he points at a picture of himself scoring a goal when he played for his brother’s soccer club, Jomo Cosmos in 1986.
Born and bred in Orlando East, self-employed soccer enthusiast Sizwe Nkosi sells clothes to support his wife and three-year-old son. Nkosi grew up playing township soccer before playing for the under-19 Orlando Pirates team. He recalls how on his wedding day one of his guests made a joke about how he joined the team. “The speaker told the people at my wedding that he met me at Pirates. He told everyone about how they bought me for R250 and they laughed,” he says, laughing.
Nkosi says that he played with Kaizer Chiefs goalkeeper Itumeleng Khune when he was younger, but people always question the truth of this because of his age. He stopped playing soccer professionally when his parents refused for him to lie about his age. “My wife did not believe me when I told her. I showed her some pictures but she still doubted. We bumped into Khune at the mall and we spoke, I could see she believed me then,” he says.
Turning his passion for soccer into fandom has given Nkosi the freedom to mentor, coach and host celebratory gatherings at his home. “You know, when you run away from a thing and it follows you, I don’t know if it is passion or what. I still play indoors and train some guys from here,” Nkosi says, as he explains how soccer remains close to his heart.
Nkosi’s contact list has a couple of popular soccer players. During the interview he received several phone calls from local football stars. Apologetically he says, “Everything is soccer. Sometimes I go to the grounds to watch soccer, but I always find myself analysing the game. If I feel that the coach must put a player in, I go behind the bench and I call the coach.”
Nkosi believes that “spirit” from both the players and supporters makes an enjoyable match. He keeps this spirit alive by hosting people at his home for post-match braais. “When I coached a team, and we were leading two nil, I called my wife and told her to take R2000 from my money for meat at the butchery. She told my brother to make the fire. We came back to my house to chill and celebrate after we won the game,” he says.
STAY GROUNDED: Soccer helps to keep children in the Orlando East community off the streets and out of trouble.
The soccer player at heart remains nostalgic for the days when Jomo Somo entertained supporters with “tricks” on the field. “If you watch the old DVDs of Jomo Sono, you’ll see a big difference. There was no money then, but people enjoyed football and the rules. Jomo used to stand on the ball but if a player was to do it now it is a yellow card,” he says.
For Nkosi, local soccer traditions have changed drastically because of the continuous upgrades of soccer rules set by the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA), the international governing body of football.
He adds that he does not have anything against international football, but wants the township culture of soccer, particularly in Orlando to be upheld because it is what the fans want and enjoy. “Skill. Our strength is in the skill. Our players are creative. When a team is good with skills, you can tell by the supporters. Orlando stadium used to be full because Jomo Sono was doing his thing. People came because they wanted to see the skill,” Nkosi says.
Despite the ever-changing rules of football locally and internationally, die-hard fans like Nkosi still flock in numbers to watch their favourite players battle to win the hearts of the supporters. “All people want to do is enjoy the game. If you tell someone Soweto All Stars is playing at four o’clock, the grounds will be full because people know which players are going to play flair and freestyle,” he says.
With hopes to carry the tradition over to his four-year-old son, Nkosi is already grooming him. “I want my boy to play soccer. I guide him. I want him to start at an early age, even now I started telling him not to hold the ball in his hands. I won’t force him to play if he does not want to, but it would make me happy,” he says.
WATER IS LIFE: Orlando Sweepers Football Club players quench their thirst after an intense training session.
From giving up your yard in the name of fandom, to opening your home to celebrate with the community and preserve family tradition, soccer in Orlando East goes beyond the 90 minutes on the soccer field for enthusiasts.
As it remains a religion in Orlando, the loyal supporters make sacrifices by coming together to share the joy whether it is through providing space for rest after a long walk from the clinic, or an internet café to apply for a job, or just a braai after a soccer match.
Giving up something for the love of the game does not take away from supporters, but makes them feel like they belong to a team long after the 90-minute whistle at the end of the match.
FEATURED IMAGE: A football match between two clubs. Photo: Files.
The hiss of slot machines, private conversations, numerous television commentaries and crackling sounds of tables and chairs filled U Bet – one of Johannesburg’s popular gambling clubs.
Mungoma, a 25-year-old strapping lad from Thohoyandou, Limpopo, sheepishly squeezed into this packed building for the first time in his life and took a chair that had just been vacated by one of the regular punters.
Mungoma has heard through the grapevine that people make money, lots of money in these gambling houses should luck fall into their laps. He has since been toying with the idea of coming in to push his luck in either sports betting or lottery. But he also isn’t sure whether to just stay away from gambling completely.
To this point, he hasn’t made up his mind. “I think sports is better though, because the results are determined transparently. All you need to do is watch the games for yourself. But … I don’t know man,” he says as he inspects in painstaking detail a pile of betting slips on the table. He says he is in need of cash and winnings as little as R5 000 would suffice.
“Andinawuza apha ngomso ndingawinanga kaloku” (I wouldn’t come here tomorrow without having won anything) a strident voice came as a parting shot from Sihle, a regular gambler, behind us as she was leaving her group of friends, spontaneously offering the newbie (Mungoma) a blinding glimpse of the obvious.
Truth is, to strike it lucky, Mungoma will have to risk a portion of his stipend he earns from East Rand Water as an intern process controller. He feels aloof about spending that R2 or R6 for a single bet. “Gambling may be rewarding but it involves wastage of money”, he says.
But gamblers want the experience they believe only people with money enjoy. They are convinced that just a bit of more money would make things right. Every win is breads hope with exhilaration. Violet, a regular gambler, says she feels “ecstasy” when she wins.
A desperate quest for money
Crowds of people from across Johannesburg (mostly from the townships) converge in five of the licensed betting houses in the inner city or at some random street corner in pursuit of a windfall that would change their lives for good.
Most punters downtown are motivated to gamble by only one reason- money. They are apt to build castles in the air and they believe their dreams of a better life would come true one day.
However, gambling demands some resources which may not always be within easy reach. Regular gamblers, specifically, need enough time to decide their bets, and money to play with.
They sacrifice their hard-earned monies for something bigger and better. Most of them have 9-5 jobs or businesses that lade them with even more responsibilities.
Violet, who is also a university graduate from Nigeria, says sometimes she cannot gamble because either she doesn’t have money or her food business needs her presence.
CLICK CLICK:Slot machine gamblers trying their luck at Supabets on a Sunday afternoon. Photo: Sisa Canca
Getting the numbers right
For gamblers, choosing numbers for their bets requires more than just guesswork. Sihle, a mineworker, spends her waking hours cinching the numbers before taking a 67 kilometre trip from Carltonville to tempt fortune with her money at U Bet.
She goes underground with a notepad and a pen, specifically earmarked for taking notes of signs to be interpreted to numbers later on. She is constantly on the look-out for signs and symbols and every dream she dreams has got a meaning about a potential lottery number.
Certain incidents, most of which come in a dream but sometimes even in real life, mean a certain number is extremely likely to win. Gamblers will see a combination of numbers in a dream, which need to be jotted down as soon as they wake up from sleep. Failure to do this, gamblers believe, will result in letting the numbers slip from memory.
If she dreams of a prostitute, then number 15 is her lucky number the following day. A dead man represent number 4, whereas human faeces represent number 34. A urinating man means 47 is the number, sea water is number 3, a graveyard is 30, fireworks is 38, a little boy is 33 and so and so forth. Every lottery number from 1 to 49 has more than one symbol attached to it.
This belief system comes from a widely-accepted Dream Guide available in most of these gambling clubs in Johannesburg. This system stipulates that there is a symbiotic relationship between dreams, numbers and people’s names.
Some gamblers keep track of recent previous results to follow a pattern. Dunisani believes he has cracked a winning system of some lottery competitions.
“Yesterday I made a terrible mistake. I switched my Powerball and lunchtime (UK 49) numbers around. I would have won both”, he says with rue and signs of a heavy heart. “I don’t subscribe to this Dream Guide thing, most people have these visions because that is what they are obsessed about” he says.
Going the extra mile
STUDYING THE NUMBERS: Punters going through recent results to follow a pattern that will help them decide on their next lucky numbers or scores. Photo: Sisa Canca
Sihle takes the first Metro Rail train straight after her night shift at 8:15 AM to arrive in Johannesburg Park Station about two hours later. By the time she leaves Carltonville, she has already decided on the most important numbers of the day’s world lotteries, including France Powerball, Greece Lotto, local lotto and Powerball, UK 49’s tea and lunch time bet games.
Some gamblers have the luxury of time in their jobs to focus their attention on their future bets. Olebile, a Jo’burg City security guard, says they converse about sports betting at work with his colleagues long before they pay Hollywood Bet a swift visit during an hour-long lunch time break. Like Sihle, who goes underground in the mine with a book and a pen, some would go about doing their jobs while secretly gratifying their betting hunger.
Between the time someone plays to the moment the numbers come out, gamblers go through a psychological turmoil. The anticipation is one fervid, adrenaline-filled conjecture often displayed, in these dens, by intense focus on screens and tickets with few exchanges of words if any at all during the moments of results release. “There is anticipation. Also a doubt that maybe you should have played this number instead of that one” says Violet, also a regular gambler at U Bet.
Punters need less convincing in if any at all to check the results. Besides TV screens inside the clubs, punters make efficient use of computer monitors installed inside for them to use. During travelling hours, they regularly check updates on their phones.
When money is too tight, more hospitable environments like U Bet have a culture of fellow gamblers, at times complete strangers, helping each other with money. Sometimes, punters would have a good start, especially in the slot machine games and end up using all their gains and the money they had for other usages.
Terrence Mpofu, cashier at Hollywood Bet, says she always have people who need money to get home because they have used all money they had on gambling. “I help them whenever I can, but sometimes it becomes too much and I wouldn’t have enough myself to help all of them” says Terrance.
This depicts the life of regular gamblers. They lose money, and sometimes go bankrupt. Violet was once up to her ears in debt trying to sustain her gambling passion. “I was financially bankrupt. I remember this one day I played R3 500 without any control” she says. Loosing comes with a great deal of misery. “I struggle to sleep at night when I’ve like a lot of money and I just change, even my children notice me” says Sihle.
In her very first bet, soon after she arrived in the country back in 2002, Violet made R2 000 out of R10 she invested as her betting price. The next time she played, a fellow countryman from Nigeria disappeared with a R30 ticket which could have won her over R5 000. She later learned through her other friend of her winnings.
While still in that state of despair, she gathered that women gambling in South Africa was not in any way as taboo as people make it to be in her home country. “In Nigeria, it is taboo for a woman to gamble. So gambling for me here represent some kind of freedom” Violet says.
LOOKING OVER THE SHOULDER:Gamblers keeping tabs on the latest lottery and sports results across the globe on a monitor screen. Photo: Sisa Canca
The inside of the gambling world
Betting dens are generally loud, busy places with people from different backgrounds sharing an interest or two. At the entrance, there is always a security guard who searches everyone coming in, presumably for dangerous items.
Some would have a mobile security scanner that they’ll run all over your body to detect such items, whereas some will grope around your waist with bare hands, whether you are a man or a woman.
There is usually a speaker at the entrance. Loud music is more audible at the entrance than inside. Inside are different queues for different games ranging from lucky numbers, action sport (dominated by soccer), horse-racing, lotto and Powerball.
Lucky numbers people have their eyes fixed on screens twice every five minutes. A stopwatch is always visible for everyone to see the countdown to the next draw. When that time comes around, a lady (usually white) in either a black or red dress appears on the screen to facilitate the process.
Scenes of tantrums escorted by heavy huffs and foul language coming out in gasps (when a number they played is closer to the one on screen) are usually a constant background noise in these particular queues. And rarely do you hear a roar of celebration and when that happens, people incline towards that particular winner, wanting to confirm for themselves if the numbers on the ticket correlate with the ones shown on the screen.
Soccer fans are quite obvious to notice with their markedly long slips with fixtures of up to 50 games at times. They will fill up their coupons while looking at fixture books, which tend to be a couple of about six to 15 pages. The fixture booklet has codes which direct them on what to tick on the coupon for different choices.
The horse-racing community is more relaxed than others. It never really gets tense unless a major event is on the cards and the horses are heading for a finish line. Every gambler shouts their chosen horse number, “woza number 8” (come on number 8..or 12 or 17 and whatever the case may be).
Thwala, a 60-year-old regular horse better, says Hollywood Bet is like a haven for people his age to pass time. “It’s a clubhouse for us. Much better than sitting in a tavern back in the townships because here, we not only spend but we also gain something out of our winnings and we have sober conversations” says Bab’(father) Thwala.
Slot machine people line up in short lines, sneering at each other when the person on the machine doesn’t give them a chance. Some people are infamous at Hollywood for tendencies to occupy two machines at a time or using one machine the whole day.
In his worst days,*Abel loses about R2 000 on average per day on the lucky numbers game but he keeps coming back over and over again. An insider confided that he had won an amount of over R35 000 more than once.
ACTION SPORT:Punters watching weekend sport action on television screens to see for themselves the outcome of their bets.Photo: Sisa Canca
Who’s who in the city?
The most popular in terms of numbers and vibrancy is Hollywood Bet at Newtown Mall, corner Plein and Harrison Streets. There is also Betting World at corner Rissik and Lilian Ngoyi Streets. U Bet is on Plein Street, between Wanderers and Eloff Street. There is Sports Bet on Jeppe and Polly Streets as well as World Sport Betting on Pritcherd and Troye Streets.
You can see more women than you could see in both Hollywood and Betting World combined. Violet thinks the setting at U Bet is more conducive than its competitors. “I used to go to Betting World, but that place is so crowded, the situation there is tense and there is this stink of smelly shoes and armpits of some men who jam that place”, says Violet as she frowns showing sullen displeasure about the kind of environment in question.
At U Bet, there is more interaction and courtesy for one another. People gather in small groups chatting, giggling and swapping coins, betting tickets and pens. The space is a social centre for Sihle where she meets and mingle with birds of a feather.
Gamblers, mostly at U Bet regularly “bank” numbers as groups of at least four members on a single bet, with each person putting forward their lucky number. Should they win in this instance, they split the money equally amongst all the participating members.
It is hard to spot by chance someone who has just won in some of these houses. But most regular male gamblers are notorious for flaunting at their counterparts when they’ve won big.
These gambling spaces are crowded by people traditionally viewed as working class or not wealthy. Security guards and police officers are the most visible in their branded uniforms whereas domestic workers, cashiers, cleaners, mineworkers, small business owners, pensioners go about without much visibility. They all come from different townships ranging from Soweto, Tembisa, Katlehong, Daveyton, Alexandra, Kagiso and so forth. Depending on age, they all dress up differently, with youth mostly wearing sports brands in shoes and fashionable clothes like DH, Guess, and the like. The older generation wear their semi-formal wear or golf Ts and tukkies.
The daredevils on the streets
Outside these spots, are informal groupings of illegal gamblers either playing dice or three cards or three caps. Most of them are lining up on Plein Street. There is always noticeable presence of young men rolling a dice by Attwell Gardens Park. The game is played with two dices and each player must get the two pieces show the same number of dots at the top.
Three cards has been a popular game in Johannesburg for quite some time. The owner of the cards is the only one who dictates things by shuffling three cards (two have blue colour and one is red) with other players expected to point the red one. The cards are in black pouches and before every shuffle the player show all the colours to show fellow gamblers. A minimum of R100 is supposed to be placed on top of the red card. If you get it wrong, you lose the R100 but if you’re right, you get a R100 in addition to yours.
There is also a more dodgy game by unscrupulous gangs in town and that is three caps. It is played much like three cards. There is a little clod that is hidden underneath one of the three 2 litre bottle caps and gamblers have to point the correct cap after a long and quick shuffle.
Most people are tricked to get into the game and never allowed to leave if they have won a few games. Next to Bree Taxi Rank, last week, a lady in her mid-30s was enticed by one of the female gang members to partake in this game and she ended losing R200, and her cell phone confiscated as she was trying to win back atleast a R100 to get her home.
In the National Responsible Gambling Programme research paper by Leanne Scott and Graham Barr, they concluded that dice and cards were perceived as being “fairer” and allowed punters to be in control than casino gambling.
“Police are regularly and routinely bought off” reads the paper about illegal gambling. Johannesburg Central Police Station Spokesperson Xoli Mbele could not be reached for a comment.
Gambling a tad too much
Mashudu Netshivhungululu, a registered counsellor for the National Responsible Gambling Programme, said gambling problem is a mental illness. “It’s a psychological problem, and the behaviour of people with gambling problems doesn’t make sense. Gambling addiction falls under mental disorder on the DSM 4 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 4). One of the symptoms that reflect a gambling problem is someone who feels a need to gamble with the increasing amount in order to achieve the desired excitement.
“When you play, it’s like something is pulling you. Gambling has got a spirit of its own,” says Violet. The quest for money never stops.
FEATURED IMAGE: Gamblers looking at the screen for their bet outcomes. Photo: Sisa Canca
For the people of Little Mogadishu, life in South Africa is characterised by a constant attempt to survive the harsh realities of being “a foreigner”. They have, however, found something that can help ease the sting of that reality – football.
Bowling or football?: The Mayfair Young Stars teams use the grounds of the former bowling club to play their football. Photo: Masego Panyane
The first thing that catches your eye as you walk up to the Mayfair Bowling Club is the fence that has fallen down at one place and the heap of rubbish that lies there. Then, as you move closer, you see a few patches of grass. It’s uneven land, about the size of a normal soccer pitch, and a couple of sharp rocks stick out of the ground.
This is the place the Mayfair Young Stars Football League uses as its home ground. The league, which is made up of players of foreign nationalities, is the pride of the community of Little Mogadishu. The lives of foreign nationals in South Africa are filled with many unpleasant experiences. For this community of Somali refugees and asylum seekers, football provides them with a sense of normality.
The area is home to an estimated 6 000 refugees and asylum seekers, most of them Somali, and has long been a safe haven as well as being accused, without proof, of being a source of Islamic militancy.
I walked into the area as a black, Christian young woman and soon found myself talking about something as masculine as football to the men in the community. I was not chased out. Instead, I soon found myself in impassioned conversations about Manchester United and why they aren’t the team to beat in the English Premier League.
The passion for soccer carries off the field in Little Mogadishu, the heart of which is on 8th Avenue in Mayfair, Johannesburg.
The different faces of football
Malelo Abdool, a 24-year-old businesswoman, decided to start up an informal games arcade in Little Mogadishu after realising that there wasn’t much to do in the area for the children. She took a small shop space, installed plasma screens and PS4 consoles, put in a couple of chairs and bean bags, and the ultimate chill spot was ready.
Xtreme Fun: One of the walls of Malelo Abdool’s game shop. The shop is called Xtreme Games. Photo: Masego Panyane
Abdool’s gaming store is unlike most others. Where you would normally expect a range of gaming experiences, her store contains only football-related games, with versions of the games for every year. “The kids [here]are very inspired by soccer … I tried putting in other games like Grand Theft Auto, Call of Duty and they just didn’t play them. So I put in games like FIFA 16 because there’s a demand for them,” she said.
With the community being so football crazy, it only made sense that they would have their own football club. But how the club came about, along with its ups and downs, isn’t that simple.
Greater Mayfair Local Football Association (GMLFA or GML) is the managing body of all local football-related activities in the western and southern parts of Johannesburg. The organisation, which is affiliated to the South African Football Association (Safa), oversees six local football leagues that are divided by age.
Local Somalis began playing in the Greater Mayfair LFA in 2008. They encountered problems in the league and could not advance to higher Safa leagues because they did not have South African ID books.
“We couldn’t challenge them. We don’t have lawyers … We don’t have anybody so we left the league,” said Mohammed “Mash”, 34, a member of the Somali Football Association.
In response, the Somalis formed a league of their own, the Mayfair Young Stars, in 2009, shortly before South Africa’s Soccer World Cup. This league meant they could continue playing football in their community outside of Safa’s regulations.
Xenophobia or Safa regulations?
But the experience still left a bitter taste and the founder members believe they were kicked out of the league because they are Somali.
“In the GML we ended up being blamed for everything … If a fight broke out, ‘it’s the Somalis,’ they said, if there were any kinds of problems, it would be the Somali people causing the trouble they believed,” said Mash.
“It became unfair when they would make us stop games because we were winning. The last problem was when they didn’t want us to go to the next level because we didn’t have ID books,” he said.
Safa’s regulations, however, state that foreign players are allowed to participate in regional, inter-regional and national competitions provided they meet a number of conditions. These are that a) there cannot be more than three foreign players registered in one team; b) they must have valid documentation such as a valid asylum seeker’s permit, passport or any other international clearance certificate provided for in the Immigration Act and c) that they meet the eligibility criteria set out by Safa of different age groups.
But according to the members of the Somali community, the reason for their exclusion was simple: the Greater Mayfair LFA was motivated by a dislike for them steeped in xenophobia.
Nadia Patel, secretary of the Greater Mayfair LFA, agreed the Somalis could not advance because of documentation, but denies they were victimised because of xenophobia.
“The only reason we could not let them play is because of that Safa regulation. We even established another social league where teams that are completely foreign can play socially, for teams like Mayfair Young Stars,” said Patel.
“We had a couple of issues with discipline with Young Stars, but we have never discriminated against them because they are Somali.”
It was after this series of events that the idea to form Mayfair Young Stars was born, a team for a generation of Somalis born in South Africa.
“We said these youngsters are South Africans, they were born here, maybe when they reach there, they will have the advantage of joining the formal league,” Mash said.
Losing out on playing in the formal GML had some serious consequences for the Somali footballers. They lost some good team members and a coach but, most importantly, they lost out on a space to play their football.
“When they managed to kick us out because of that Safa rule, they also blocked us from using the grounds we used to practise and play on. So whenever we’d try to get in, the guard would tell us R200 per hour or not let us in at all,” said Aydruz Ismail, manager of the Mayfair Young Stars League.
The situation was devastating for the team. The senior team realised they would be wasting their time pursuing semi-professional football careers in South Africa. They did not have the correct documentation and, to their knowledge, this would prevent them from playing.
The senior team saw it as their duty to get the league up and running for the next generation of Somali footballers. Establishing the league happened fairly easily because the community was already very attached to football. Many of the young people in the area used to play recreationally, so bringing them together wasn’t a far-fetched idea.
The dawn of a new era: legitimate soccer stars
“When we established Young Stars, there were a few youngsters who used to play by the park by themselves. We collect them … and they formed their own teams,” said Ismail.
Huddled in front of TV screens in Abdool’s game shop are a number of young men who play for Mayfair Young Stars. They are in a particularly heated discussion about who is the best midfielder in the community league. It becomes obvious how important the space to play and polish their football skills is to these young men. For people like Mohamed Abdool, 18, and his friend and team-mate Osman Yasin, 15, having the league keeps them healthy, but they also get to try out some of the tricks they see on television.
“I love the sport, I have a passion for the sport. I’m planning to go to London … I want to play for one of the Premier League’s teams,” stammers Mohamed excitedly. His friend Osman also wants to play in Europe someday.
Focused: Mohammed Abdool playing the latest FIFA game in Malelo’s store. Photo: Masego Panyane.
For the two young men, the opportunity to play in the Mayfair Young Stars League is a step closer to these dreams.
Mohamed began his career at Young Stars playing for the senior team but he asked to return to the lower level team in his age grouping to get more game time. Osman describes him as an intelligent player who has a bit of Argentinian player Lionel Messi in him.
Osman, a central midfielder, started playing football because all his friends were playing it. He says his plan after he finishes matric is to succeed in football. If that doesn’t work out, then he’ll settle for being a computer software engineer.
For the boys, it is worrying that, even though they were born in South Africa, they may not have a stable enough future in football because of their documentation. For them, there’s nothing they would rather do than play football. As clichéd as this may sound, football is their life.
“There isn’t enough opportunity here. Even when I was playing for the Orlando Pirates Academy, they’d always ask us for documents and that is limiting us, that’s why I want to go international,” Mohamed said.
Mayfair Young Stars have their matches every weekend because they do not want to disturb the young people with their schooling. Mash added that the major purpose of having organised football in the community is to keep the boys out of trouble.
For some of the other young men like Abdullahi Mohammed, 19, the creation of this league gives them a sense of belonging and it keeps hope alive – that they could one day play professional football – despite not being able to play in the formal GML.
Defending hard: Members of the Punishers and Man City teams from Mayfair Young Stars battling it out for the ball. Photo: Masego Panyane
“The committee of the GMLFA is racist towards Somalis. Even though for most of us that played in those teams, we’ve never seen Somalia before. We were born here, this is our home,” he said.
Mohammed said they experienced injustices at the GML because of what he calls “xenophobia”. Mohammed said he never experienced xenophobia when he played for premier league teams like Bidvest Wits and Jomo Cosmos that had a number of foreign players playing for them.
The Mayfair Young Stars Football League has become an important part of the lives of the men, young men and boys of the community. It has given them hope that, even in South Africa, where it may sometimes seem almost impossible to get correct documentation or citizenship, they can still hold onto their passion for football and, for some of the younger ones, to maybe become world-renowned football players.
Where to from here?
It’s a hot morning in mid-October at the former home of the Mayfair Bowling Club. Outside in the yard, two tattered nets stand at the opposite ends of the grounds. The grounds themselves could do with a bit of TLC, maybe a new bunch of grass could be planted and watered to give the grounds a healthier feel.
The grounds are not marked like a normal football field would be but everyone seems to have an idea of where the centre of the pitch is and where the lines to mark the boundaries are.
In this particularly heated encounter between Somali teams Man City and the Punishers, the most important things at stake here are respect and bragging rights. Both teams play with skill that one does not expect from a group of teenage boys. They are determined and play with the flair and intelligence we all miss seeing in professional football matches.
Ooops!: Abdullahi Mohammed finds himself having to retrieve a lost ball after a little accident. Photo: Masego Panyane
The soccer games attract a number of men in the community, ordinary men who have a keen interest in football and want to see who the bright youngsters to look out for are.
The supporters of the Punishers are adamant that the referee has made a series of decisions against them, all because he doesn’t like them. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that they trailed for most of the match behind Man City by a single goal.
After I watch pure magic at the feet of these boys, the match draws to a close with the final score line being Man City 3-2 Punishers (Man City actually scored 4 goals because of the own goal scored in the 23rd minute). Man City walk away with the ultimate bragging rights for the upcoming week.
After watching these young men play as if they are playing to get paid, one wonders if any of them will be able to make it professionally with the number of obstacles that stand in their way. It is very clear that breaking into the professional football scene here will be difficult for the boys.
But once they do, they will be a sight to behold. For now, they work at becoming the best of the best. The boys continue to play FIFA at the game shop and practise their tackles on the uneven pitch of the Mayfair Bowling Club, one match at a time.
FEATURED IMAGE: Defending hard: Members of the Punishers and Man City teams from Mayfair Young Stars battling it out for the ball. Photo: Masego Panyane
The Clever Boys came back from a spirit dampening loss against Mamelodi Sundowns last week to taking the third spot on the log after showing Maritzburg United how its done.
PERFECT BOOT: Bidvest Wits debutant and goal scorer, Kris Bright trying to break the defence of opponents, Maritzburg United. Photo: Anlerie de Wet
ROUND THREE of the Absa Premiership saw Bidvest Wits beat their KwaZulu-Natal guests at home Wednesday night and slide into a familiar third place on the rankings.
Maritzburg United’s captain Ashley Hartog made a visible effort to keep the players forged in Jozi from scoring, but two powerful goals flew past him and his team.
After what was a very slow start for the Clever Boys with a couple of failed open shots at goal, New Zealander Kris Bright scored a beauty from Daine Klaite’s corner kick.
Bright had a massive game and worked well with Elias Pelembe and Sibusiso Vilakazi until he was sent to rest in the middle of the second half.
Wits kicked-off the second half with Vilakazi’s right boot directing the ball past the Maritzburg goalie, Virgil Vries, to stretch the home side’s lead to 2-0. This goal came two minutes after the start of the half with a great assist from debutant Bright.
With many attempts at goal none of the teams seemed to be able to score after Vilakazi’s success, leaving the final score at 2-0.
The discipline in this game was something to strive for in the rest of the season. There were only a total of three yellow cards between the two teams as Wits already had five yellows against them from two games and Maritzburg a troubling 13.
Wits managed to move-up the rankings from 10th to 3rd with six points, just below their Ajax Cape Town rivals. But the Maritzburg boys failed to sway away from their 15th position.
Although the Clever Boys’ performance is a step-up from that of their 4-2 defeat last week against Mamelodi Sundowns, they still failed to convert a couple of easy opportunities. They won’t get away with these slip-ups as easily when they face the calibre of Ajax this Saturday in the MTN 8 semi-finals.
Bidvest Wits will be taking on AmaTuks in their next Absa Premiership round on September 13 in Pretoria.
In episode six of We Should Be Writing season 7, the team unpacked the evolution of music as a form of expression and protest, through four decades in the South African context. The episode explores the journey of South African music and its consumers from the 80s, 90s, early 2000s and contemporary listeners. From the […]
