AFCON 2023: Dreams and realities

I was so consumed over the weekend with the funeral rites of my good friend Bernard Nyarko in Kumasi that I did not fully grasp the fact that the 2023 African Cup of Nations (AFCON) was rolling out in all of its glory and majesty.

The start date of the tournament certainly did not register on the front burner of my mind, even though I was vaguely aware of the imminent event. 

Pre-tournament snippets

Ahead of the tournament, I saw photographs of the national team, the Black Stars, clad majestically in kente cloth, with some inexperienced wearers clinging on to the cloth for dear life lest the apparel fell apart.

Some wryly suggested crash cloth-wearing tutorials for our players next time, but if after several years, former President Jerry Rawlings appeared to struggle with cloth-wearing in public, I doubt these tutorials would have done the trick.

Maybe the strategic deployment of safety pins would do instead. 

I also enjoyed watching parts of the opening ceremony on Saturday night at an open-air pub in Kumasi’s Bantama, where a few friends and I sought refuge to drown our sorrows into a jug or two of ‘Bubra’ after Bernard’s funeral rites ended for the day.

It was quite an impressive affair and I believe La Cote d’Ivoire has sold itself quite well.

I have never been to Abidjan. Perhaps I should plan a long weekend there later in the year. 

Nationalistic fervour

My friends who know me well will dismiss what they would refer to as my ‘funeral excuse’, claiming that my ignorance would have been blissful anyway, funeral or no funeral.

I will not quarrel with them. 

In truth, I do not exactly ooze testosterone at the sight or prospect of a football match, nor do I understand the offside rule despite several crash tutorials from well-meaning friends. I cannot name more than four of the national team members, nor can I reel off the top of my head which country is in which group with which other countries.

The list goes on. 

But it is not that bad.

 At the very least, I love the emotions and the high drama around football.

Whilst you will not catch me dead watching a league match, local or foreign, I particularly enjoy watching Ghana play, perhaps fired more by nationalistic fervour than a love of what football loyalists insisit is ‘the beautiful game’ per se.

In 1992, when I was in my final year at the University of Ghana, I remember with great clarity the thrilling final match between Ghana and La Cote d’Ivoire at the AFCON that year held in Senegal.

After a goalless draw, the penalites went up to 11-10, with Ghana losing out most painfully.

I believe this is the only football match I have watched that shot my blood pressure through the roof and had me literally chewing off my fingernails. 

Cape Verde brimstone

I was too tired from a round of funeral engagements on Sunday to watch Ghana’s opening match with Cape Verde, though truth be told I only became aware of it about an hour to kickoff.

That what when I also got to know the other countries in our group.

The commentary on social media that I came across following our loss to Cape Verde has been quite unsurprisingly vitriolic and unforgiving.

Both players and the technical team have received their dosage.

 Even the referee came in for some bashing.

After just one match, many have predicted that Ghana will crash out of the trounament at the end of the group stage.

The comment I found most amusing on Facebook which got me chuckling was from Yaw Nsarkoh. 

“It is finished. Our kente will be remembered.

 We were unsure which was priority; sports or the fashion parade”, he wrote.

Mathematical hopes

Many have suggested that the plane to carry the Black Starts home should start warming its engines in readiness for an early exit.

However, there is no doubt others believe in the Hearts of Oak maxim ‘never say die until all the bones are rotten.’

Such optimists will anchor their hopes on mathematical calculations premised on the ‘if’ factor thus - “if A wins its next match and if B loses its next match and if we draw in our next match, we are likely to qualify for the next stage.”

 But then as my good friend Nana Awere Damoah keeps saying, ‘hope does not cook yam’.

I have no idea how far Ghana can go in this tournament.

I am unqualified to make any bold assertions either way.

All I can do is tap into my nationalism pot and dream of Ghana lifting its 5th AFCON cup after a particularly long drought.

If that makes me a soppy dreamer, then so be it. 

Rodney Nkrumah-Boateng : (rodboat@yahoo.com)