The time was 7.45pm on Tuesday. I looked at the pages of Sportinglife for Wednesday and couldn’t find a lead story to sell it. I went into my office to cross-check my diary. It was empty. A few stories that I saw were either not topical or weren’t good enough for a midweek edition.
Tense, I took my telephone outside the office to call my colleagues in Abuja to find out why the day was dry. Two calls to Andrew Abah and Patrick Ngwaogu added to my frustration of not finding a lead story. They were headed for the new secretariat of the Nigeria Football Federation (NFF) in Abuja, where Sports Minister Bolaji Abdullahi was visiting, ahead of the opening of the facility built with the cash generated by the Presidential Task Force (PTF). The minister’s visit was to ensure that things were in place for President Goodluck Ebere Jonathan to open it for football business.
A last call to another colleague, Segun Ogunjimi, didn’t resolve the matter. It brought forth the poser many readers of this column have asked me. Many were wondering if I talk with Super Eagles chief coach Stephen Keshi. They looked forward to the day we would meet.
When Ogunjimi picked his phone, the place was rowdy. He told me he was at the new secretariat. Then Ogunjimi shouted: “Hold on sir!” I could still hear the noise but I felt he wanted to give the phone to a source who he felt could confide in me to get a story. It wasn’t to be. It turned out to be Keshi.
When Ogunjimi handed Keshi the phone, I could hear him whisper, “na who bi that?” Ogunjimi replied: “ Na my editor, Ade Ojeikere”.
I could feel Keshi’s deep breath. Then he said; “Ade Ojeikere, na wetin I do you? I take your girlfriend, abi na your wife? You just dey yab me. Wetin I do?”
Keshi expected an answer, but I wasn’t ready for that. His voice was high. He was angry and never hid his disgust about my writing. I waited until he said: “Oh boy, I dey vex for you. You just dey hit me. In fact, I dey watch AIT this morning (Tuesday) where you talk say if you bi sports minister, you for don sack me for wetin I do for Namibia?
At this point, it was evident that Keshi’s anger had fallen into a receptive voice where I could throw a counter question. Again, I expected his response to be laced with rage.
“Skippo, I dey vex for you too. You sef yab with the things wey you dey do. Dem no good at all. You fall my hand. You go dey fight anybody wey talk wetin you no like. Abi we no get right to ask you things wey we no know? I dey write my columns, ask you those questions make you for fit answer. Even if you no talk to me.
Keshi interjected: “Ade wetin you dey talk so? Shebi you get my number? Why you no call me? Walahi, Ade, you dey disappoint your fans o. Dem don tire for you. People wey like you before dey vex. No matter wetin you think say I do, you for call me na?”
It was clear that a dialogue had ensued. I told him I didn’t have his number anymore. The number I had, I was told he broke the SIM card in anger when he resigned in South Africa.
Keshi raised his voice again, this time he said: “How can you talk like that Ade? Why didn’t you ask Segun for my number?
Yet I asked Keshi if it was out of place for him to call me if he felt what I was writing was not fair to him.
“Oh boy, na true you talk. But you know now, I dey vex. You sef, you too talk.” Keshi said.
“Big Boss, me too dey vex,” I retorted. Keshi wanted to interject again. This time I stopped him, saying that I would be in Abuja on Wednesday and we would talk.
“Okay o. I dey wait. Make we see o! And he handed the phone back to Segun Ogunjimi, after saying: “Ade Ojeikere, na wa for you o.”
This dialogue lasted for five minutes but it broke the ice of a relationship that had gone awry, occasioned by the demands of our jobs.
Keshi has the right to pick his players. He chooses how he wants to train them and how he wants the team to play. Keshi has done well with the Eagles, although he admits that it is work- in- progress.
For this writer, there is the need to ask the coach why certain things aren’t in place. But most coaches don’t like to be told about their team’s flaws no matter how close you are to them. If you dare ask such questions, they will either not pick your calls or raise their voices in resentment. It happened to me once with Keshi, when I wanted to pick his brain to write a story about his likely list of players ahead of the 2013 Africa Cup of Nations.
At the Beijing Olympic Games in 2008, I had a little unsavoury session with Samson Siasia, when I questioned the rationale in dropping Osaze Odemwingie and Victor Anichibe for fumbling players. Siasia told me to face my journalism job while he does his.
Surprisingly, Siasia made the desired changes in the next game and Osaze and Anichebe were the goal scorers. Smart guy Siaisa is, he apologised at the next international post-match press conference. He said he was in a foul mood after that game. Siasia is human, so I moved on.
One of the hazards of journalism, a few would say. But the job must be done in this era where those in authority blame journalists for all the societal ills. Busy bodies, they shout to the roof but we are condemned tell our readers the stories the next day. I digress.
How did you feel Ade after the Keshi spat, many would ask? I’m still excited. The best copies for journalists come when you put your interviewer on the spot. You need to ask him the questions that outsiders confront you with. We are confronted daily with questions. And it is always nice to throw them back at the coaches so that their responses could get to the soccer faithful.
Once The telephone conversation over, I went back to contending with finding a lead story, which I got by sending a text message to a source.
Behold, Keshi’s team list for the August 14 Mandela Challenge in Durban, South Africa. I was excited. A good copy had come at last. The list, though tentative as it turned out to be had Obinna Nsofor and Shola Ameobi. I was relieved that Keshi had started listening to good advice. If what Keshi said was anything to reckon with it, it was that he also reads this column, given the details he reeled out in his fit of rage.
Again, my informant said Keshi submitted the 24-man list to the Nigeria Football Federation (NFF) for vetting, unlike in the past. The NFF directed him to prune it to 18- the number of players that the organisers asked for. Keshi chose 20 players instead and listed four others on the waiting list. Kudos, big Boss. that is what we want rather than outright rejection of the NFF directive which makes your employers look like puppets.
I was pleased with this revelation. Besides, it didn’t leak to the press nor was it an issue for public debate until I stumbled on it. If you ask me, we are making progress.
It is also cheery news that the Director General of the National Sports Commission (NSC), Gbenga Elegbeleye, reconciled Keshi and the NFF chiefs. Elegbeleye’s message of securing our national interest above selfish agenda should serve as the fulcrum for Keshi to take the good criticisms and discard the others.
Keshi should know that he is answerable to Nigerians and not all of us will tell him what he wants to hear. Keshi shouldn’t insult our sensibilities by telling us that Joseph Yobo is the team’s captain. Keshi’s body language and utterances show that Yobo isn’t in his plans He only wants to mock Yobo. He should move on because Yobo isn’t a fool, given his recent stoic silence on the team and Keshi.
Indeed, Keshi’s double-speak at press conferences is disturbing. In one instance, he tells his audience that he won’t beg Victor Anichebe. In another response on the same issue, he startles his listeners with suggestions that he has asked Mikel Obi to talk with Anichebe to do a rethink. Keshi should know that the world is a global village. Whatever he says about his players during press conferences are read by them. He must put himself in these players’ shoes and see if he won’t react otherwise. Thank you for the five minutes discussion. Let’s do it again soon. Ramadan Kareem.
