Namumu Staff vs. Namumu Boys: Far From an Instant Classic

I’m not sure which staff member was dumb enough to come up with the idea, but a few days ago we had a big soccer match, with the Namumu staff facing off against the older Namumu boys. Tuesday was a holiday, African Freedom Day, and our office was closed. The weather has cooled considerably and the Namumu soccer field and goal posts are set up quite nicely. So, I suppose it actually wasn’t that bad of an idea.

Set back behind the Namumu dining hall directly beneath the nearby rolling, tree-lined hills, the Namumu soccer field is a pretty good one. It’s mostly dirt with a few patches of rocks and a few of grass, but for the most part it’s smooth and level. The goal posts are two large logs with a Y shape on top and the cross bars are old, rusted iron pipes. It’s a pretty big field, and while I have no real basis for comparison it certainly felt like it couldn’t have been too far from regulation size.

Now, I’ve been playing sports for years and at many points I’ve been involved in some version of the young guys vs. old guys game, whether it be players vs. coaches, students vs. teachers or children vs. parents. They’re always fun, and 99% of the time the old guys take a beating, which is always amusing. This match was no exception. Unfortunately, unlike all the other times I was one of the old guys for this one. And yes, we took a real beating.

In our defense, these older Namumu boys play just about every afternoon, and have been playing every afternoon for years. They’ve been running around and training like woah. My team was made up of an over-weight accountant, a couple of chain-smokers, a borderline alcoholic and a 4 foot 10-ish borderline midget, among others. Oh, and then there was me. The slow white guy. Obviously the odds were stacked against us.

I arrived at the field a bit late and the game was almost starting, which meant no stretching (Tony Perkis would not have been pleased) and no warming up, not good considering I hadn’t kicked around a soccer ball more than a handful of times since my Bon Air Elementary playground days. Plus I had just eaten. Plus I was thirsty. Plus the afternoon sun was bearing down hard, and even in the Zambian winter the sun can be oppressive. Is that enough excuses?

And so the game began. The old guys predictably tired right away, but still hung in there for a while. We had a few early shots on goal that nearly made it through.

Kebby, the boys caretaker, was our go-to guy, our super star. At 33 years old I think his game may start declining soon, but at this point he can still move. He claims to have once upon a time played a bit with the Zambian national team. I doubted his claim at first, but it turns out that Kebby is indeed very good. And the Zambian national team is indeed very mediocre, so hey, maybe it really is true.

Debby, a 17 year old Namumu boy was the clear-cut leader of the boys. He and Kebby had some good head-to-head battles. His ball control skills are unbelievable, and while he’s never flashy or show-offy you can tell right away that he’s the most talented of the boys.

So, for what seemed like hours we ran back and forth across the field, sweating and chasing and trying not to throw up. Well, at least I had to try not to throw up. I can’t speak for the other old guys. Like I said, the staff team certainly had its moments (most of them provided by Kebby) and managed to get some decent shots off. But, overall, the boys team was dominant, controlling the ball and the tempo like pros. They ended up scoring three goals to our zero.

It all turned out to be quite an event. As you might have picked up on by now, there ain’t much to do in Siavonga, so a good number of people showed up for the spectacle.

The Namumu girls were out in full force lining the field, cheering and screaming and having a good ol’ time.

And let me tell you something. I’ve tried my hand at a few different sports over the years, but basketball has always been my game. Through the years I’ve played in front of some rough and rowdy crowds and experienced my fair share of heckling. I’ve played in the city and been ridiculed by OG’s. I’ve played in AAU tournaments all over and been blasted by the opposing team’s parents and friends. I’ve played games in Huguenot park where I was the only white guy on the court and an obvious target for ridicule.

But I’ve never experienced heckling like that which our team heard from the 10 to 14 year old Namumu girls. They were merciless. And small slip-up, no matter how minor, was loudly and aggressively mocked by our girls. They were giving it to both sides, but as the staff provided the most slip-ups we received the most ridiculing.

Still, we played our best, and while we came up short I don’t think we embarrassed ourselves too badly. I thought we played respectably.

Well, I thought that until I was reading with my girls that night. I was talking about the game with Wendy, a 16 year old grade 10 student who you may remember from blogs past. I expressed to hear that I was proud of our effort and performance. Wendy, however, completely destroyed any shred of dignity that remained by pointing out that she had watched the boys play each other and teams from other communities dozens of times and that the boys had been completely toying with us, putting in infinitely less effort against us than against the others. She also pointed out that Jimmet, the older boy picked to play the role of referee, had in no uncertain terms told her that he would be bending the rules as much as possible to propel the staff to victory.

And we had still lost badly.

I heard a wave of comments following the match from the staff suggesting we should be practicing and getting in shape to really challenge these boys the next time. I can’t see that happening. I think that the staff have experienced only their first of many beat downs.