Among reports of the northern territories melting down and concerns over the start of the Formula 1 season (Bahrain has bigger problems) and Muammar Gadaffi, the man of many names not to mention many fashion statements, sharing headline space with Charlie Sheen for the “who is the craziest award” this is too good not to share. Continue reading →
Every week for the past few months me and the 9-year-old take ourselves off to a boxing gym in Norwood where we train as if we are planning to meet Ali in the ring. Under the guidance of a former champ – Andrew Matabola – we do crunches, push-ups, sit-ups, squats, lunges, weights, skipping and then we punch, and punch and punch. Combinations of straight punches, uppercuts and hooks, our hands wrapped, and encased. Continue reading →
#210 Bask in the glow of a successful World Cup only to avoid the pull of humdrum routine now that the party is over. And while some are still pondering the significance of those fantastic white elephants that sucked dry the pond at the closing ceremony I have been celebrating the fact that I finally got to wear the colours of a winning team (evidence below), packing up my array of supporters flags and scarves (Bafana Bafana, Ghana, Argentina, Portugal, Netherlands) and catching up on the good press South Africa has been getting while playing Knaan’s waving flag over and over again and sobbing quietly. Just read Boris Johnson’s Telegraph column and couldn’t say it better so here goes. Continue reading →
#209 Follow the game – which we did to Bloemfontein on Friday to watch Honduras vs Switzerland. At this point we’re watching everyone – loving the mood, the spirit and fan fashion sense of World Cup 2010. And we are learning to love the team we are with. Wednesday was Germany vs Ghana at Soccer City (Go Ghana – of course one of my favourites; loved the men with pots on their head and the German guy wearing lederhosen also deserved a mention). Continue reading →
#208 Join in the fray about vuvuzelas that has become more deafening than the trumpet itself this week. Score one to South Africa for getting the word into international headlines, another for causing Twitter to shudder with #vuvuzela overload, a third for making Ronaldo weigh in on this weighty matter (instead of on fast cars and faster women) and give that guy at the rugby match in Wales that was brave enough to blow one a round of applause. It’s something I have written about before, the fact that I like the vuvuzela and its angry-wasp-like sound (cue the insults from the vuvuzela-haters). Continue reading →
#207 Enjoy this moment – In true Jozi style flags fly proudly off electric fences, the sound of vuvuzelas (singly, that of a wounded bull elephant, in large groups – more like angry hornets) rings out wherever you are – from Melrose Arch to Braamfontein, Sandton to the Soweto no matter what time of day. Fashion trends hold no sway as most people are intent on showing their team colours. I have succumbed. This city is yellow and green, in love with this time, this place, and this nation. Continue reading →
#206 Nothing to do in Joburg besides become a fan – of football, Bafana Bafana, the diski, the flag, the colours, the people, the spirit, the music and even the vuvuzela (I have my earplugs ready for the opening game at Soccer City tomorrow night). It’s hard not to. Yesterday in Sandton the streets filled with thousands (they say around 185 000 to be more precise) — and even the actuaries and accountants and a few oddly dressed people that could only have come from some corporate IT department joined the throngs Continue reading →
105 Something truly amazing took place in this country over the past few days.
A collision of worlds and I am not talking about the people who queued for the last round of World Cup tickets on Friday and ended up having to be dispersed by riot police after their appetite for the event was underestimated.
These photographs from last week’s clash between the Blue Bulls and the Crusaders at Orlando Stadium in Soweto have been doing the email rounds. They capture the day Pretoria’s rugby lovers made their way into Soweto (many of them for the first time) Continue reading →
#177. Gasp a little as Zapiro gives new meaning to “member” of Parliament. With President Jacob Zuma’s sex life firmly back on the national agenda following Sunday’s revelation (see the original article from the Sunday Times here) that he has fathered his 20th child with Sonono Khoza, daughter of soccer boss Irvin Khoza, it appears that the presidential cavalcade may need some Venter trailers to add to the minibuses that are used to transport the wives club. Travelling with four wives (I hear the sound of wedding bells) is no light matter.
By Zapiro, from TimesLive 2.2.2010
I am a little uncomfortable (call that a lot) about referring to the President’s extra-curricular activities but not so squeamish as to wish that he was keeping the mouse in the house or at least practicing “no glove, no love”. If you are going to put it out there, you can’t blame the nation for noticing.
#168. Enjoy the Ras Dumisani saga. This is the man who cried sabotage after he was accused of “butchering” the national anthem in the lead-up to the Springboks vs. the French in Toulouse earlier this month. Some went so far as to call it “treason”.
Dumisani, who claims to be an experienced reggae artist, had this to say in response: Continue reading →