Prose: [Coach] Chomsky’s Disciples
I grew up living, breathing, and eating soccer. This trend in my life still applies today. It is a quality that many sports fans possess, whether in appreciation of tennis, cricket, baseball, basketball or even rugby. We are all grouped by one umbrella — a devotion to a particular club and particular players. It is when the players walk out the tunnel of the stadium, and the crowd’s chants fall mute as the players stare back and stand cemented on sacred ground, which has birthed many legends, that one begins to realise how soccer, much like any other sport, is a religion.
It is indeed a structured, ceremonious play of events. Showers of blessings come in the form of games and souls won, and miracles mirror the polished glimmer on tournament and league trophies. As the starting eleven stand in silence and gesture to their fans the seriousness of this momentous occasion, we pray as a cohort that the angels on the side-lines will encamp around our boys and the opposition, and make sure they meticulously apply the Pentateuch of soccer. As fans, we trust in the great power which has been vested onto the whistle-yielding protector, that is Michael, the arch-referee. As we lament our desires in spirit, clenching our holy jerseys, we peacefully invite the presence of the Soccer god to reign down from the heavens of FIFA and bless the service before it begins.
As I walk down the aisle of Durban Christian Centre (DCC) I envision the fans that walk into Stamford Bridge as Chelsea’s players discuss tactics with the coach. The atmosphere has a mild buzz of voices and shuffling as the ushers greet and direct the attendees. In the auditorium through the window, one can see the elders and pastors pacing up and down, preaching in tongues, as they get their A-game on for the service. Back at The Bridge, the ticket handlers assist supporters to find their seats and as they walk in anticipation for what is to follow in a few minutes, they are composed yet merry, as well as simultaneously rattled with anxiety. The anxious supporters are like the elders and fellow brethren near the stage of the church, who profusely send praises to The Most High in unity with the pastor and elders in the backstage auditorium. Eventually, a junior pastor announces that all must be seated soon …Pastor John is about to enter. In the midst of the congregation’s anticipation at DCC, as I take my seat having come back from the restroom, silence strikes the church as Pastor John stands by the podium and asks the brethren to rise for the presence of God. Back at Stamford Bridge the commentators notify the audience that the players are making their way down the tunnel and the volume in the stands gradually subsides as the players stand facing their supporters. The commentators entreat the fans to harbour a moment of silence as the sound of the first whistle edges closer.
Chelsea Football Club, based in London, England, is my favourite soccer club. As with most soccer teams, in Great Britain, Chelsea have their own stadium famously known as Stamford Bridge. It is no different from my church, Durban Christian Centre (DCC), AKA The Jesus Dome. Both buildings are majestic and every Sunday, as Chelsea does so once a week for its league games, the fans congregate. With the likes of Hazard, Oscar, Ivanovic, Matic and Pedro, the likelihood of leaving the stadium awestruck by the skill of the team is undeniable. When Fabregas gets the ball and one sees Hazard running down the right hand side of the pitch the crowd already knows that the ball is about to drift in the air and navigate itself to Chelsea’s number ten.
It is up to Pastor John to play ball now on the podium. Pastor John is in the prime of his leadership so that makes him an unpredictable talent The service can never foresee where the Holy Spirit is going to direct him with his first pass . With so much divine skill he is naturally comfortable with taking the initial charge of the service — he was born to preach. Chelsea preaches to its fans too, when they walk onto the field and put in their ninety minute performance. As they kick the ball around they evangelize to non-supporters and preach to their fans. “Yes Lord! Hallelujah! You alone are worthy to be lifted up high!” It is now exactly 8:00am and Pastor John is now ready to blow the first whistle: “Amen”. He makes his first pass of the day as he calls upon his wife, Pastor Joy Torrens, to lead the offering. With senior and junior pastors seated behind the podium backstage one begins to see the formation of Pastor John’s team. Instead of Pastor Johnny Grobbelaar leading the attack with him today; his wife has come off the bench and risen to the occasion of her debut performance. Church is in session. Pastor Joy just might very well get her first touch on the podium as Pastor John makes an early pass to his wife. However, I’ve learned over time and by reading my bible that winning souls is not an individual race. It is a team effort.
You do not need to take a flight to London to experience the impact of Eden Hazard dribbling his way past three defenders on the right hand side of the pitch, the stadium roaring as he nutmegs the last defender and stretches the keeper, before he swiftly smashes the ball into the top right corner of the net. Seasonal ticket holders will attest to the electrifying difference of seeing The Blues play at Stamford Bridge but for those who cannot do the same, a television will suffice as a shrine. The unitary skill of all the players captivates the fans and future fans, even to the extent where devotion is cemented through the purchase of Chelsea jerseys. Christians also extend their devotion when they buy their own bibles, and as they walk in public with their holy text tucked into the palm of their hand, we see where their allegiance lies. Just as my bible notifies a stranger on the street that I’m Christian, my Chelsea jersey sends the same message to cricket fans at large.
However, I digress. There’s more to soccer than Stamford Bridge being swallowed up by an ocean of blue jerseys. As with all religions, exercising your faith is complicit with prayers and even churches and mosques fall short against the virility of Chelsea’s disciples, both at the stadium and those at their homely shrines. We jump off our couches, and seats alike, lashing onto the stranger next to us when our prayers are heard. Our lungs become restless as Chelsea dominate the game and when the scoreboard suggests that The Blues are bound to win without a shadow of a doubt …we rev our throats and pay tribute to the blessing that is a win: “Chelsea! Chelsea! Chelsea!”
The chants echo from all corners of the world and within Stamford Bridge they swoon down on the players like a spiritual transfer bearing the divine power to make the boys punish the opposition, with only two minutes left on the clock, and Chelsea leading three goals to none. Courtois with the goal kick, chested gracefully by Oscar who cuts the defence of the opposition with a home-seeker pass, that magnetically lands on Pedro’s right foot. The young Spaniard sees the evangelical power that this goal will have and thus he increases Chelsea’s congregation with a sensational strike into the top left corner! The visuals send the twelfth man roaring in disbelief and looking up at the blue sky as he offers chants of praise to the Soccer god.
As church reaches a close Pastor John takes to the podium once more and leads his last charge of the day. He thanks the Lord for a powerful, blessed service, where many new souls were won. “It is our victory”, he always laments.
“Fweeeeeeeeeeee!” The whistle sounds — the game is finally over. Chelsea, with an undeniable dominance over Manchester United FC, takes the Barclays Premier League title victory for the 2014/2015 season. The captain, John Terry, in a post-match interview comments on how Pedro, Costa and Hazard secured the three unchallenged goals with their formidable attack, with calm and poise: “We arguably have the best attack in the world right now. Hazard, Costa and Pedro are in their prime so naturally they are a force to be reckoned with. However, all three men know, as much as any player on the team that this is our victory”. Amen.
