If I believed, like the poet lost deep in hell, that whatever I would say here would be heard by anybody returning to the world, my words would sound firmer and more forceful. But, pity me, in this vale of darkness, I am facing Mr. Owona, the de facto president of the Fécafoot, who is definitely not returning to the world anytime soon. Actually, he wouldn’t even hear me as he is busy digging his way into the familiar territory of underachievement and high-handedness.
Is there something useful here that can be said to the President concerning his handling of the attribution of the FIFA codes to the national media ? Yes, of course, even though it appears that nothing constructive will come from ‘une certaine presse’ whose members are in cahoots with dark forces bent on smearing and ultimately destroying the careers of God-anointed mandarins.
Doing the right thing, Mr. President, is one thing. Being perceived as doing the right thing is another. You have made your decision ; it is your job, for another 6 weeks or so I believe. But dismissing a fairly reputable cyber outlet like MboaFootball and a star journalist like Mr. Mimb after barring them from Fecafoot sponsored events does not foster any perception of fairness on your part in the public. Actually, it helps to unveil a vindictive and emotional part of you that is so depressing for some of us who have known a nicer Massa Yo.
On a more personal note, Sir, unlike Mr. Mimb, I am no journalist. I never expected you to pick me, even though FIFA has routinely sent a well-deserved accreditation to me since 1994, when I was just moonlighting for LeDroit, an Ottawa, Canada, daily. I hate long-haul flights, that is the only thing that would prevent me from traveling to Brazil. I hate the rowdy, smelly and lawless crowds that flock on the terraces of football stadiums, so I rarely go there.
I do not have to. I can write a mean column right here, in cool and cozy Sipandang, West Babimbi, about a gay parade in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Between you, me and the gatepost, may I confess that in 2010, with an all-inclusive accreditation from FIFA, I ended up in Mbabane, Swaziland, on my way to South Africa, and yet wrote some great comments about the competition ?
You see, Sir, I have the best job in the world : I am a colour commentator. Pity !
