443603 messages.
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 22h07 Contrairement à ce que dit ce morveux,Axel Ngando n a pas été contacté en 2014 pour jouer avec les lions,puisqu il sortait fraîchement d une campagne victorieureuse d un campagne victorieuse avec les bleus de 20 ans qui ont éte sacrés champion du monde de la catégorie.
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h58 Mudo
Tu crois que c est parce que la sélection n est pas structurée que les jeunes ne s y précipitent,ou bien c est parce que beaucoup d entre eux ont passé leur enfance en France,et compte y jouer même s il n y a pas beaucoup d espoir?
Tu crois que certains parents ne conditionnent pas leurs enfants ?
Tu crois que c est parce que la sélection n est pas structurée que les jeunes ne s y précipitent,ou bien c est parce que beaucoup d entre eux ont passé leur enfance en France,et compte y jouer même s il n y a pas beaucoup d espoir?
Tu crois que certains parents ne conditionnent pas leurs enfants ?
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h52 Mudo
Cette remarque n a aucune valeur pour moi,parce qu elle repose sur des conjectures.
Il me semble que Patrick Mboma n est pas sélectionneur,et que c est le coach qui sélectionne les joueurs.
Cette remarque vous faites;aurait eu une grande importance,si Broos avait sélection NGANDO parmi les 35 comme il a fait pour Poundje.
Si Ngango avait refusé,j aurais pu en ce moment là juger le comportement de Mboma.
La question est donc de savoir pourquoi n a t-on pas sollicité Ngando?
Cette remarque n a aucune valeur pour moi,parce qu elle repose sur des conjectures.
Il me semble que Patrick Mboma n est pas sélectionneur,et que c est le coach qui sélectionne les joueurs.
Cette remarque vous faites;aurait eu une grande importance,si Broos avait sélection NGANDO parmi les 35 comme il a fait pour Poundje.
Si Ngango avait refusé,j aurais pu en ce moment là juger le comportement de Mboma.
La question est donc de savoir pourquoi n a t-on pas sollicité Ngando?
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h43 Fortunately for me rock music is the universal language and the guitarist in the hotel lobby band spoke reasonable English and imagined himself to be keen for an adventure. I immediately put him on a contract of $US100 a day and within hours we were sitting in the waiting room of the prime minister of Congo.
Eventually the plane wreckage was found by French military in an inaccessible region of the Âdeepest Congo rainforest. Recovery of the bodies took a week.
But there had been two tragedies in Congo that week. For the prime minister and local reporters, who chain-smoked and drank in a square in the city, the air crash in which 11 people, including the Australian directors, were killed was unwelcome news. But it was somewhat overshadowed by a local rail disaster, in which 76 people had died.
It was a similar story at home. As I had sat thinking of my future in a West African jail, Australian deputy prime minister Julia Gillard had made her challenge to Kevin Rudd.
My story did make page one of the newspaper on one of the Âbiggest news days of the decade but it was painfully clear that most people had other things on their mind.
Eventually the plane wreckage was found by French military in an inaccessible region of the Âdeepest Congo rainforest. Recovery of the bodies took a week.
But there had been two tragedies in Congo that week. For the prime minister and local reporters, who chain-smoked and drank in a square in the city, the air crash in which 11 people, including the Australian directors, were killed was unwelcome news. But it was somewhat overshadowed by a local rail disaster, in which 76 people had died.
It was a similar story at home. As I had sat thinking of my future in a West African jail, Australian deputy prime minister Julia Gillard had made her challenge to Kevin Rudd.
My story did make page one of the newspaper on one of the Âbiggest news days of the decade but it was painfully clear that most people had other things on their mind.
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h42 (..) Along the way I checked progress of the search for the missing plane and made arrangements to meet the highest ranking politician I could muster the following day.
It was a professional decision that probably saved me from a long stay in a West African jail.
On arrival in Yaounde I chose not to check into a hotel but went straight to the airport where Talbot’s personal jet was still on the tarmac. Within minutes I had been arrested for unlawfully taking photographs of a restricted site.
“Who are you spying for?†my interrogator kept asking. “Do you have an embassy in Cameroon?â€
I was calm but pretty certain they had all the evidence they needed. Beside me was small digital camera and on it were unmistakeable photographs of the airport from which the Sundance charter had left.
It was Information Minister Issa Tchiroma Bakary, who I had organised to meet earlier, who saved me. Later, when we discussed the airport “misunderstandingâ€, Bakary said he was the “man who can do anything in Cameroonâ€.
But his intervention didn’t stop my captor leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, to declare, “I think you now owe me a big, big drink!â€
Good god no, a bribe was out of the question. This man had been a menacing hindrance rather than help and I had only enough US dollars left to pay the return passage to Yaounde.
Worse than that, I had already become a victim of West African cyber crime. Each time I put one of my credit cards into the ATM at the Hilton Hotel and casino for cash it was frozen dead.
Equally pressing was the fact, although the missing plane took off from Cameroon, it crashed in Congo, which was only tens of kilometres from where I stood — but to get there I had to travel hundreds of kilometres south to Douala and then catch an international flight to the Republic of Congo — which I didn’t know much about but the only things I had heard were bad.
It was late evening in Sydney but editor Paul Whittaker was able to arrange a Western Union transfer of $US5000 for me to collect in Douala.
Unfortunately, when I collected the money, it was given in a bundle of West African francs that was a wad of notes the size of a house brick.
I strapped the brick to my stomach and made the journey through sticky fingers at Customs in Cameroon and transit in Kinshasa before arriving in Brazzaville, where I discovered they don’t speak English in Congo — they speak French.
Fortunately for me rock music is the universal lan
It was a professional decision that probably saved me from a long stay in a West African jail.
On arrival in Yaounde I chose not to check into a hotel but went straight to the airport where Talbot’s personal jet was still on the tarmac. Within minutes I had been arrested for unlawfully taking photographs of a restricted site.
“Who are you spying for?†my interrogator kept asking. “Do you have an embassy in Cameroon?â€
I was calm but pretty certain they had all the evidence they needed. Beside me was small digital camera and on it were unmistakeable photographs of the airport from which the Sundance charter had left.
It was Information Minister Issa Tchiroma Bakary, who I had organised to meet earlier, who saved me. Later, when we discussed the airport “misunderstandingâ€, Bakary said he was the “man who can do anything in Cameroonâ€.
But his intervention didn’t stop my captor leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, to declare, “I think you now owe me a big, big drink!â€
Good god no, a bribe was out of the question. This man had been a menacing hindrance rather than help and I had only enough US dollars left to pay the return passage to Yaounde.
Worse than that, I had already become a victim of West African cyber crime. Each time I put one of my credit cards into the ATM at the Hilton Hotel and casino for cash it was frozen dead.
Equally pressing was the fact, although the missing plane took off from Cameroon, it crashed in Congo, which was only tens of kilometres from where I stood — but to get there I had to travel hundreds of kilometres south to Douala and then catch an international flight to the Republic of Congo — which I didn’t know much about but the only things I had heard were bad.
It was late evening in Sydney but editor Paul Whittaker was able to arrange a Western Union transfer of $US5000 for me to collect in Douala.
Unfortunately, when I collected the money, it was given in a bundle of West African francs that was a wad of notes the size of a house brick.
I strapped the brick to my stomach and made the journey through sticky fingers at Customs in Cameroon and transit in Kinshasa before arriving in Brazzaville, where I discovered they don’t speak English in Congo — they speak French.
Fortunately for me rock music is the universal lan
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h40 Less than 36 hours before this moment I had never heard of Yaounde, Douala or even Cameroon, a corruption-racked central African country named by French settlers for its abundant stocks of prawns.
But here I was, white walls closing in, under arrest in a subterranean interrogation room at Yaounde airport where a thin man with a crisp manner was stating more than asking “you are a spyâ€.
It had been a long journey that started in winter-chilled Sydney and was headed for the steamy, thick jungles of the Congo.
A plane was missing, presumed crashed, while carrying the full board of directors of small Australian mining company Sundance Resources, which included one of the nation’s wealthiest businessmen, Ken Talbot.
At morning news conference we had discussed sending London correspondent Peter Wilson to cover the story but he could not go. Having been to West Africa before to investigate the voodoo healers of Benin and Togo, I was a natural choice as replacement. Unlike others in the newsroom, I could pass the threshold test for entry to Cameroon — a current yellow fever certificate.
So, after successfully arranging an expedited visa from the private house in Hornsby, I was airborne, business class, via Dubai within a matter of hours.
But on arrival in the port city of Douala, where pickpockets roam the arrivals hall and police with canes warn against loitering, it was immediately apparent my speedy departure had left many issues untended. The hotel pick-up was late and as my driver made his way into the unlit backstreets he uttered the words I have learned to dread from Third World travel: “The hotel you booked is full but my brother has another one. I will take you there.â€
I insisted we go to the original destination but it turned out the driver was telling the truth.
Nonetheless, at 2am, I took stock and organised a “fixer†to take me to Yaounde, the capital, from where the plane carrying the Australian miners had departed.
Conflict zones and harsh Âplaces such as Iraq, Papua New Guinea and East Timor had taught me the importance of paying for local knowledge and support. Unfortunately my Douala chauffeur cum fixer turned out to be a dud because when things realÂly got hot he was missing in action.
It was about a six-hour drive from Douala to Yaounde, past the impressive high-voltage power pylons being built by gangs of Chinese labourers who lived in compounds. Along the way I checked progress of the search for the missing plan
But here I was, white walls closing in, under arrest in a subterranean interrogation room at Yaounde airport where a thin man with a crisp manner was stating more than asking “you are a spyâ€.
It had been a long journey that started in winter-chilled Sydney and was headed for the steamy, thick jungles of the Congo.
A plane was missing, presumed crashed, while carrying the full board of directors of small Australian mining company Sundance Resources, which included one of the nation’s wealthiest businessmen, Ken Talbot.
At morning news conference we had discussed sending London correspondent Peter Wilson to cover the story but he could not go. Having been to West Africa before to investigate the voodoo healers of Benin and Togo, I was a natural choice as replacement. Unlike others in the newsroom, I could pass the threshold test for entry to Cameroon — a current yellow fever certificate.
So, after successfully arranging an expedited visa from the private house in Hornsby, I was airborne, business class, via Dubai within a matter of hours.
But on arrival in the port city of Douala, where pickpockets roam the arrivals hall and police with canes warn against loitering, it was immediately apparent my speedy departure had left many issues untended. The hotel pick-up was late and as my driver made his way into the unlit backstreets he uttered the words I have learned to dread from Third World travel: “The hotel you booked is full but my brother has another one. I will take you there.â€
I insisted we go to the original destination but it turned out the driver was telling the truth.
Nonetheless, at 2am, I took stock and organised a “fixer†to take me to Yaounde, the capital, from where the plane carrying the Australian miners had departed.
Conflict zones and harsh Âplaces such as Iraq, Papua New Guinea and East Timor had taught me the importance of paying for local knowledge and support. Unfortunately my Douala chauffeur cum fixer turned out to be a dud because when things realÂly got hot he was missing in action.
It was about a six-hour drive from Douala to Yaounde, past the impressive high-voltage power pylons being built by gangs of Chinese labourers who lived in compounds. Along the way I checked progress of the search for the missing plan
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h39 @nkoulou soeur
je dis hein comment voulez vous que ces gars repondent a l appel des gens qui de nos jours construisent encore des stades a l aide des pioches,a bot zaa!...bien entendu toutefois que ces stades aurons vu le jour ces gars viendrons,soyons un peu serieux.
je dis hein comment voulez vous que ces gars repondent a l appel des gens qui de nos jours construisent encore des stades a l aide des pioches,a bot zaa!...bien entendu toutefois que ces stades aurons vu le jour ces gars viendrons,soyons un peu serieux.
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h21 @Nkoulousoeur
Je crois qu'il te faut des lunettes pour lire, ma reponse est dans le. Post et ceux qui lisent ont compris. Comment peux tu blamer les enfants dautrui alors que tes propres enfants tu les défends de faire la. Même chose?? Mboma se moque de qui?? Son neveu n'est pas venu en 2014 pourquoi qu'à t'il fait lui?? Le patriotisme n'est bon que pour les autres et pas pour lui?? Lui qui parle de patriotisme ce Mboma ces enfants sont francais ou pas?? Lui il paye ses impots où?? Pourquoi nous sommes même colle ca au Cameroun?? Toi Nkoulou tu viens raconter ta merde merde ici
Je crois qu'il te faut des lunettes pour lire, ma reponse est dans le. Post et ceux qui lisent ont compris. Comment peux tu blamer les enfants dautrui alors que tes propres enfants tu les défends de faire la. Même chose?? Mboma se moque de qui?? Son neveu n'est pas venu en 2014 pourquoi qu'à t'il fait lui?? Le patriotisme n'est bon que pour les autres et pas pour lui?? Lui qui parle de patriotisme ce Mboma ces enfants sont francais ou pas?? Lui il paye ses impots où?? Pourquoi nous sommes même colle ca au Cameroun?? Toi Nkoulou tu viens raconter ta merde merde ici
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h14 @ John barrick
Jodo a fait la même remarque que moi en ce qui concerne Ngado, je viens de lire son post.
Jodo a fait la même remarque que moi en ce qui concerne Ngado, je viens de lire son post.
a écrit le 7 janvier 2017 à 21h11 @ John Barrick
Je ne pense pas que Patrick Mboma incite son neveu Axel Ngado à opter pour les lions, je ne comprends pas pourquoi il blâme ceux pour x ou y raison refusent de participer à la CAN.
Si la sélection nationale était structurée les jeunes ayant peu d' espoir avec les bleus se précipiteraient pour défendre les couleurs de leur pays d'origine. Liste non exhaustive: Ngando, Bahebeck, Ngog, Nkoudo voir Ntep ect...... Je ne mets pas Mbappé car c'est un crak et lui la France ne le laissera pas filer. Pour info son père à jouer en jeune avec Mboma au stade de l'est pavillonais dans le 93.
En a
Je ne pense pas que Patrick Mboma incite son neveu Axel Ngado à opter pour les lions, je ne comprends pas pourquoi il blâme ceux pour x ou y raison refusent de participer à la CAN.
Si la sélection nationale était structurée les jeunes ayant peu d' espoir avec les bleus se précipiteraient pour défendre les couleurs de leur pays d'origine. Liste non exhaustive: Ngando, Bahebeck, Ngog, Nkoudo voir Ntep ect...... Je ne mets pas Mbappé car c'est un crak et lui la France ne le laissera pas filer. Pour info son père à jouer en jeune avec Mboma au stade de l'est pavillonais dans le 93.
En a
