AFC’s beautiful game is what football is made of

Watching FC Barcelona take on German giants Bayern Munich at the Nou Camp on Wednesday night, one got to appreciate why soccer is supposed to be the beautiful game.

What a marvel Iniesta was, the manner in which he caressed the ball and weaved intricate passes right under the noses of the much taller Germans.

How Sergio Busquets, with his lanky frame, managed to erect a defensive wall in front of his defenders attested to the fact that in the cultured football, you do not have to have a Goliath-like figure to excel in the holding midfielder’s role.

Neymar Jr’s trickery, which enabled him to effortlessly slalom past the Bavarians on countless occasions, reminded one of the golden era of the Ruud Gullits, Hristo Stoichkovs, Pavel Nedveds, and closer home, the Jay Jay Okochas, Kanu Nwankwos and Abubacar Titi Camaras of this world.

Don’t talk about Messi, the boy is out of this world!

That when all the pre-match tactics have failed to yield fruits, when a trailer and not a bus has been parked in front of the opposing goalkeeper, that is when you need Messi – to get things moving by unlocking stubborn defences.

That is exactly the reason why he exists, God’s gift to our generation and the future generations.

How privileged we are to be able to watch his magic week in, week out!

I never thought I could sample such majestic display of skills in this part of the world until I happened to attend Ingwe’s match against Sony Sugar on Labour Day.

The sheer soccer artistry displayed by Bernard Mang’oli – dictating the tempo of the game, deciding when and whom to pass the ball to, when the opponent should run or stroll, when to score a free kick or not – reminded me of the golden era of Wilberforce Mulamba, and to an extent Allan Thigo Wuon pap, albeit lesser gifted.

Mang’oli does not dribble, he caresses the ball.

Noah Wafula does not shoot to score, he dinks the ball past the keeper in much similar fashion Messi embarrassingly beat the great Manuel Neuer to gift Barca the second goal.

It lifts my spirits that all the financial difficulties Ingwe is facing notwithstanding, the boys remain true to the philosophy of the beautiful game.

At Ingwe, we frown upon the win-at-all-costs maxim so viciously employed by our competitors.

Watching our noisy neighbours – granted they are topping the table at the moment – play Ulinzi last Sunday, I wondered what became of the beautiful game.

What I saw was something akin to wrestling.

“Olunga muoma muoma, ipek ne ng’ano” (Olunga just muscle your way through, that guy is a lightweight), a K’Ogalo fan would occasionally scream.

At this rate, we will kill the beautiful game in this part of the world.