Hidden side of me that only athletes bring out

What you need to know:

  • I found myself cheering the four men loudly, shouting, “Come on! Come on!” while clapping my hands hard, as if they could hear me all the way in Beijing.

 

I’m not an overly demonstrative person in public. When everyone else is jumping up and down with excitement and pumping their fists in the air, I’m likely to hang back and take it all in calmly.

Last year in August during the Nation Media Group’s annual sports day, the DJ played Sura Yako, that popular song by Sauti Sol, which was the national anthem at the time.

As soon as the song started playing, everyone around me went into a frenzy, vigorously dancing until it came to an end. I must have been among the few people who did not break into a jig.

The only time I find myself in an uncharacteristically unrestrained mood is when our athletes are competing on the world’s stage. There is something I find exhilarating about watching these gallant men and women resolutely approach the finish line, their long determined strides leaving the rest trailing behind.

On Tuesday this week, I watched with unbridled excitement as Nicholas Bett (the Daily Nation described him as the “newest kid on the block” the next day) bagged gold in the final of the men’s 400m hurdles during the World Athletics Championships in Beijing, China.

I was at work and, determined not to miss any of the action, I got up from my seat and moved closer to the TV, where a group of my colleagues, all men, I might add, had gathered.

I found myself cheering  loudly, shouting, “Come on! Come on!” while clapping my hands hard, as if he could hear me all the way in Beijing. When he crossed the finish line, it took all the will power I had to restrain myself from jumping up and down and screaming with excitement.

MIGHTY DAVID RUDISHA

At around 3 pm the same day, when the mighty David Rudisha won gold in the men’s 800m race, I was ecstatic with joy and pride, and offered a mighty, “Yes!” accompanied by a clenched fist.

A couple of my colleagues looked at me in amazement, probably taken aback by this animated side of me they had never seen before. The previous day, I had freely cheered Ezekiel Kemboi when he predictably took the 3,000m steeplechase gold, and watched with good humour when he did that dance of his. He could do with a few dance lessons but, being the super sportsman that he is, who cares that he can’t dance to save his life?

I am not a fan of selfies, the latest worldwide craze. In fact, I have taken just two selfies in my life.

The first one I took while fiddling with my first smartphone, while the second I took while renewing my driver’s licence online, and only because I could not get a passport photo to scan and send. If I bumped into one of our winning athletes though, I have a feeling that I would whip out my phone and request for a selfie. To me, they are the ultimate celebs.

A few years ago, I bumped into Catherine Ndereba at the Sarit Centre in Westlands, Nairobi. I was waiting for a friend at the Fox Cineplex, where we were to watch a movie.

As I made my way to the ticket area, I spotted her standing with a woman friend. I am not the kind of person who walks up to people who don’t know me (even though I know them) to shake hands, so I only planned to say hello as I walked by.

When she saw me, however, smile in place, looking at her as I approached, she involuntarily stepped back, and crossed her arms, that unconscious non-verbal language that says you’re uncomfortable. I’m highly sensitive to such cues, so I simply said hello as planned, as I walked past her. To her credit, she said hello and smiled back.

I don’t blame her though, because even I am suspicious of strangers who approach me with a smile, no matter how white it looks, and no matter how sane they look. If anything, I might have been a crazie hiding a hacksaw in my handbag — I know, I know, I watch too many movies!  But I wouldn’t have minded shaking the hand of the great Catherine Ndereba.

 

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FEEDBACK

 

I used to think that is is only Islamic extremists who lead their flock towards violence. But our Christian brethren are no better;  you stated how they live in opulence while their flock suffer. See how followers of both faiths defend their masters: one group beheads and blows away the critics while the other books you to the hottest corner in hell.

Githogori

 

The primary duty of a genuine church or pastor is to provide spiritual nourishment. However, freewill to decide is God-given, while responsibility and consequences of such decisions lie with the individual. Therefore, pastors who are spiritually dead and lazy seekers who blindly believe them will all harvest what they sow.   John

 

I am a pastor who ministers in Tanzania. Matthew 6:33 says - But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” Sounds simple but the truth is we have to deny ourselves the worldly pleasures in order to serve God. Joel

 

Church looks like the easiest way of making it in life because it seems all you need is few verses from the Bible like Malachi 3:10 harp on it and distort the meaning to suit you. Ruth

 

Wheat and weed grow together till the day of harvest. I agree with you that we have a responsibility for our spiritual wellbeing hence we must study God’s word and not hang onto every word from pastors. Joan

 

2 Corinthians 4:3,4 says Satan has blinded many through false teachings and people have become blind followers. Ashford

 

I am a spiritual person and your observation about pastors is really saddening. Religion is about hope and faith. Many religions advocate giving to attract blessings. They also advocate obedience. Fake pastors take undue advantage of this teachings to fleece the poor flock. Who was it who said religion is the opium of the masses?  Bor