I was a footballer during my days. When I was employed and deployed to sports unit, my joy knew no bound. I was daily at the stadium, looking for the latest information to serve my boss who was impressed by my job. Sometime, he would send me to Sapele, Warri or Asaba to cover sporting events. My first trip outside Nigeria was occasioned by sports.

Last Friday, friends and well-wisher including patriotic Nigerians gathered in my office. They wanted to watch the Nigeria/Argentina Olympic football final event live. They were not too sure NEPA or PHCN would supply power to residents in their area to watch the match. My office was chosen by those avid football levers, some of who had prayed hard for the Samson Siasia-led Eagles to triumph over the Argies.

Those with contrary views were humiliated out of my office even as early as 6 p.m. Torrential rains took over and those who had the means went home early. It was my production day and I could not leave the office. For the past two months, I hardly go home whenever it rains. My area – the area I live is home of erosion which once swept away a lady returning from the market. Since that day, those of us who fear alot, resolved not to go home whenever it rains.

Near-by the office, there is this lady who they call Mama Ebo. She sells pepper rice, laced with assorted meat and stockfish. If you want to enjoy yourself, you must be armed with at least N400.00. On that Friday, my friends went with their food-flask and came back with mouth-watering food. Some bought stockfish and others assorted meat, I told them it was my duty to fend for them but they told me to forget it as my food flask had already been stocked. I dread pepper as an ulcer patient. I do everything humanly possible to avoid confrontation with the stuff. Having been opportuned to see the stockfish, which served as ‘umbrella’ for the rice, I forgot about the paper and was ready whenever my visitors were ready.

It was few minutes past ten in the night and I decided to keep an all-night prayers date with my brothers and disters. We were not yet ready for bed (newspaper parlance) and by 1 a.m., I had left the church to join my friends who defied the rains and waited patiently outside for my arrival.

We all rushed for our flask to devour the contents. I shoveled the first spoon into my mouth and what a great mistake! My stomach reacted violently that I had to rush for the milk I kept in my refrigerator. I slept off thereafter. My friends did not. They ate my rice and shared the stockfish amongst themselves.

It was their shouts that woke me up few minutes after 5 a.m. They were sweating all over. They pulled their shirts and prayed for a clear victory for the Eagles. I could not tell them this was not possible as the Nigerian side were only assembled together less than six months ago. Samson Siasia did not even know his team until one month to the global contest. As if that was not enough, the man had to go out of his way to borrow money to meet the financial needs of the players in camp. That players like Mikel Obi and Taye Taiwo did not show up, underscored the big task ahead of Siasia.

Meanwhile Lionel Messi was running rings round his challengers. Players who had showed their worth in Livelpool, Barca and other top clubs in Europe were doing what they knew best. After the tense first half, which ended in goalless, my friends believed that the Eagles would come out Smokey in the second. I left the room. I knew that it would take a miracle for the Nagles to surprise the Argentines in the second half.

Three minutes into the second half, the Argies initiated a move which would have resulted in a goal but the Eagles rose up to the occasion to ward off the attack. Few minutes later, the Argies scored their only goal. All efforts to equalize failed. My friends left dejectedly. Insults came for the officials who lacked the foresight to keep the boys together like other countries, which participated in the Olympic soccer games. Akara friers abandoned their duty posts for the first time. Bus drivers went back to sleep and the streets were deserted. It was supposed to be Evbuotubu market day. I used to drive down to buy plantain for amala. The market women refused to show up. They used to sell snails in the market too. The hawkers did not come. Such was the blow the sad 0-1 loss inflicted on everybody. God Himself may have joined other Nigerians to mourn as it rained throughout that morning.

Next time, our football administrators and other sports administrators should learn from those who prepare well for competitions. The era of fire brigade approach should be allowed to go for good. Thank God that we even won some medals. If we are to go by the ceiling president Musa Yar’Adua set for out athletes, we should not expect red carpet reception. Yar’Adua had tasked the Nigerian representatives to come home with at least 7 gold medals. We could not win any. A shame? No, our performances in the various field showed how unprepared we were. May this not be our portion next time? Amen.