What comes out of potato fields?

Makoanyane XI, our Under-20 team, is being walloped at the Caf youth tournament currently underway in South Africa.

First they were thrashed 2-0 by Egypt.

Then yesterday South Africa added to their misery, beating them by two goals to one. Makoanyane XI are virtually out of the competition.

Yet for reaching that stage and representing the country well our boys deserve a pat on the back.

But back home you can bet your last penny that some of our football administrators (that myopic lot) are already beginning to cook-up some mundane excuses to explain the team’s early exit.

Pathetic people who have only some sham elections to thank for their plum positions in the high echelons of our football will start spitting the usual tosh.

Our preparations went haywire because the venue was abruptly changed, they will claim.

They will even allege that the referees were biased. 

Yet if the truth be told, the real reason why we did badly in South Africa is because we are amateurs.

Everything about our football is amateurish. The league, administrators, players and stadia are all so amateurish it hurts.

 Every time Scrutator hears the acronym “Lefa” she cringes.

Here is a national organisation being run like a backyard fowl run but still insists on being taken seriously.

It has neither a plan nor a slight indication of a will to develop our football beyond the sick joke that it is now.

Grassroots development programmes are non-existent despite the grants that the association has received from Fifa.

There is virtually no link between schools (the incubators of football talent) and Lefa. 

Because Lefa is insulated by Fifa’s ridiculous rule that politicians must not interfere in football, the association is answerable to one but itself.

It’s amazing that the people at Lefa draw salaries every month yet all they do is sit on their lazy bums while our football remains stuck in the doldrums.

It’s not shocking that few companies still want to be associated with such a pathetic excuse of a football association.

And where is our government in all this? Well, your guess is good as mine. The government has done nothing to show its interest in football or any sporting activities for that matter. Our football fields still resemble potato fields.

The only time you see the government showing some interest in sports is when someone comes back home with a medal.

The sports minister normally reminds people that the government is committed to developing sports.

But ask her if she could fund a sporting programme and she will head for the dance floor.

She likes to dance, that one. Oh yes she can get down.

Not that she is a good dancer, far from it. Her enthusiasm masks her deficiencies on the dance floor. Her dancing skills are as good as her ability to develop sports in this country. But who can blame her?

She is not that sporty either.

Samora Machel, the late Mozambican president, visited some remote district immediately after the war of independence in 1974.

Machel, a fierce disciple of Marxist-Leninism, was immaculately dressed in his revolutionary fatigues with well-polished shoes.

There was a delegation of cadres from his Frelimo party who were sitting in the VIP tent, with a well-laid table just in front.

Machel spoke glowingly about Socialism – that misguided ideology that pretends that we are all equal when those at the top have the best of everything.

He preached the gospel of equality, fiercely defending his Socialist policies.

I am the same as you people, he is reported to have said to the poor villagers.

After his lengthy and meandering speech, an old man in rags, who had walked bare-footed for kilometres to attend the rally, then stood up.

He respectfully told Machel that while what he had said made sense the real difference between him and the Frelimo leadership was “under the table”.

 Machel was lost.

He then looked at the old man’s cracked feet. He then looked below the table, saw his shining pairs of shoes, and the message sank.

The lesson was that the Socialist nonsense of equality was a load of crap.

The difference was indeed “under the table” at the “million-man march” organised last Sunday to shore up support for Size Two, the leader of the LCD (Lesotho Confused Democracy) party.

The gulf in class was all there in the open for all to see.

The class that is eating on behalf of the poor was sitting at the high table.

The disparities in levels of inequality that were on display were quite shocking. But don’t blame it on the leader.

Scrutator is aware of thousands of able-bodied young men in the villages who should otherwise be working but are shamelessly feasting on the government’s generous old people’s pensions!

There are bearded men in this country who still eagerly wait for their mothers’ old-age pensions from government, thanks to Size Two!.

Does that newspaper which claims to be the most informative in the land still have an editor or better still sub-editors with something between their ears?

“Bantu crash Linare’s hopes,” screamed the paper in its last week’s edition. There is a world of difference in meaning when you crush stones in Mafeteng and when you are involved in a car crash in Maseru.

Now to the text.

“The goals, curtsey from, Khalefo Nkoebe and Mpho Matsinyane ensured that Bantu take home 3 points.

For a while, there it looked like it would be a walk in the field Linare who dominated the proceedings, but a surprisingly improved performance from Bantu in the dying minutes of the match proved that they were there to fight.”

Can someone call the police?

Clearly that newspaper’s revolution against the English language has not ended.

Aluta continua!

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