Growing up, I had this mad love for football. My love was not just for watching and analyzing the game. It was beyond that: I was very much involved in the game. I registered in a local football club then in Lagos State, because I wanted to hone my goal keeping skill so I could be the Peter Rufai of my time.
The love and push to achieve my dream was so much that I would not spend my feeding money in school just because I wanted to pay for my training. I can’t count how many times I broke my toes and legs all in my drive to becoming a world-class goal keeper.
But, sadly, in the year 1999, my mad love for the game started dwindling. I was encouraged to register as a science student in my senior secondary so I could be the first medical doctor in my family that would heal the world of its infirmities. And, trust my uncles and aunties, they started calling me ‘The Doc’, ‘Docky,’ etc. What I didn’t know was that I had entered a trap.
First, no time to watch football on TV because you will hear, ‘know you are now a science student oo. If you want to be a good doctor, you have to start from secondary school oo.’ Secondly, I was banned from going for training and anytime I flouted this order, my step mother would beat the hell out of my life and report me to my dad for him to give me his own world class beating. After much beating, I was left with no option than falling in love with my new friends: Physics and Chemistry textbooks by P.N. Okeke and Osei Yaw Ababio.
Don’t ask me if I am now a doctor. That question will be answered in my next epistle.
I hope you can now understand why you will never catch me watching the game of soccer or ‘repping’ any club locally or internationally. All I do is play once in a decade for fun. So, if you want to see me play, please wait till the next decade.
Andrew Eneyi is a Media Consultant who writes from Port Harcourt
[Image: Zenith Bank, used for illustrative purposes]