The Day Sepp Blatter Visited Our Pavement

2 July 2010

It was a late Thursday morning. I had just returned to Pretoria from a road trip travelling from George and Mossel Bay to Port Elizabeth through the Garden Route with stops at Knysna and the Titsikamma Forest along the way. I encountered many visiting English, American, Uruguayan and South Korean soccer fans on my brief trip. Like me they were basking in our glorious winter weather and enjoying our golden beaches, magnificent scenery and our legendary hospitality. There’s nothing like a road trip to remind us that we live in a truly spectacular and awe inspiring country. I once again marveled at the beauty of our coastal towns, our roads, our well run hotels, guest houses, our stadiums, our modern and efficient airports and the openness and friendliness of our people.

The World Cup has also reminded me of what Alan Paton wrote in Cry the Beloved Country. Living in South Africa at times, is like being on a giant emotional roller coaster ride. One minute we are plunged into the depths of fear and despair because of some callous crime or idiotic utterance and then in a heartbeat our spirits soar again with boundless optimism and euphoria. It’s a very exhilarating but schizophrenic existence. A lot of negative things have been said and written about living in South Africa but at least one indictment that cannot be leveled at this country is that it is boring. Despite our many serious problems and Bafana’s early exit from the World Cup, many of our foreign guests visiting our shores for the first time have discovered an unexpected friendliness, warmth, resilience, energy and vibrancy in South Africa that is hard to find elsewhere, especially in a distant, debt-ridden and distracted America and a weary, ageing and equally bankrupt Europe.

Back in Pretoria, I decided to pop into Bicccs, my regular coffee haunt for a quick cappuccino, a chat and a glance at the morning newspapers. A weak winter sun gently warmed the pavement. The usual suspects were there as expected, sitting at a high table, holding court as is the daily custom of all dedicated pavementista’s. It was not a full quorum but a learned trio of veterans were present and in session. Coach, a well read and well bred professional golf coach with a very pleasant and polite disposition, was discussing the intricacies of golf with Alfonso, an ex-corporate high flier who has swapped his pin striped suits for casual boulevardier attire, of jeans, a tracksuit top and loafers. Alfonso is a bit of a renaissance man who now finds the rough manners of miners and the incessant demands of the corporate world tedious, life sapping and as exciting as boiled shins. Trained as a CA, he is good with numbers but prefers the more humane pursuits of writing, cooking, travelling on cruise ships, driving fast cars, entertaining slow but passionate women and drinking copious cups of cappuccino with his friends on the pavement. The third pavementista present that day is affectionately called Captain Chaos apparently because wherever he goes chaos follows even though in his private life he is a very orderly, conscientious, disciplined and organized man in everything he does. He is a very experienced senior pilot and airline captain nearing retirement who restores WWII Willys Jeeps in his spare time when he is not flying big four-engined jets all over the world.

The interesting thing about Bicccs is that you don’t have to travel far and wide to meet interesting people from all walks of life or to bump into the odd well travelled Contessa, the rich, the famous or the powerful. If you’re patient, the world comes to Bicccs including, Blue Bulls rugby players, the Springbok rugby team, champion SA swimmers, assorted ambassadors and beauty queens, diplomats, spies pretending they are diplomats, the Secretary General of Cosatu, who dressed in his tracksuit, once sat at our table on the pavement and the Governor of the Reserve Bank who pops in occasionally for her coffee.

The pavement is an interesting forum and meeting place, a place to exchange ideas like the agora in ancient Athens. And it’s an egalitarian place. Seasoned pavementista’s will not ostracize you because of your political views or affiliations. Pavementista’s don’t care how much money you have, what clothes you wear, which car you drive or what your education level or social standing is. Pavementista’s know that things like money, status, power, material possessions or comforts, even talent are at best fragile and fleeting in nature and not a true measure of a person’s worth. Many people may pay lip service to this noble idea but how many actually believe it?

Then lurking on the fringes of polite pavement society, you’ll find some ego driven individuals, mostly competitive thirty-somethings who try too hard to make their presence felt. They don’t quite know or understand the unwritten rules of the pavement. Some of them crave recognition and desperately want to be noticed. They flaunt their money or their expensive flashy cars. That’s often the problem with too much new money. Like a persistent cough, it cannot easily be suppressed. Then there are younger apprentice pavementista’s who feel they need to apologize for the small or “inadequate” car they drive or they divulge too much information and gory details about their latest sexual conquest. The pavement mostly forgives them for their youthful excesses and ignores them along with the fashionistas and hip designer types who try very hard to remain trendy.

There we were minding our own business, sipping cappuccino, shooting the breeze, when two official-looking black cars drove into our neighbourhood shopping centre and parked nearby outside Ritrovo Restaurant. Imagine our surprise when none other than the much maligned FIFA President, Sepp Blatter climbed out of one of the cars and started walking past us. By then Coach had excused himself and was on his way to check up on some of his junior golf students. Coach must have spotted Sepp Blatter as he was leaving because before we knew it, there he was in the middle of the parking lot towering over the diminutive Blatter. Coach stopped the Blatter entourage dead in its tracks and after an animated exchange of words and greetings somehow persuaded Blatter to come over and pay his respects to the assembled Bicccs pavementista’s. Blatter was accompanied by two petite blondes dressed in black power suits. I’m not quite sure what their function was but I can only presume that such a busy and powerful man needs the support of two executive assistants. Blatter’s solitary bodyguard lurked in the background. He had a twisted telephone wire dangling from his left ear. He sported a droopy moustache as favoured by policemen of old but otherwise looked deceptively relaxed and friendly.

I stuck out my hand as Blatter approached our table, shook hands with him and thanked him for placing his faith in the ability of our country to host the World Cup. Blatter was friendly, all smiles and eager to chat. He looked happy and was disarmingly polite even charming and appeared relaxed in a slick Capo of World Soccer kind of way. He wore a navy blue suit, navy tie and light blue shirt. A small gold FIFA badge was pinned to his lapel. He kept looking at my scarf and jacket for some reason, as if trying to glean some vital clues or measure who he was up against. I sensed he must have been wondering what all these middle aged guys were doing hanging out at a coffee shop on a late Thursday morning.

But many things can happen on an innocuous looking pavement. Just ask the wise guys who hang out on New York’s and Brooklyn’s finest pavements. History has been written, revolutions have been started, overweight family Don’s have been popped getting in or out of their cars, coup d’ etats have been plotted and minor island countries overthrown on pavements. The world is full of surprises and strange twists and turns. And there we were, a harmless bunch, a most unlikely gathering, chatting to old Sepp as if he was somebody’s favourite uncle.

This is a man who understands the power of sport and especially soccer to stir very strong human emotions. In fact he loves using the word “emotions” in his everyday talk whether it is to soccer administrators, politicians, fans or ordinary folk like us. He said he had just been to see the “Head of State.” The meeting at the presidential guest house must have gone well because Blatter was beaming and spoke about the “positive emotions” experienced by all, with the World Cup being hosted in South Africa with the help and participation of the FIFA Family.

I for one confess that I have never been a huge follower of the beautiful game but now readily admit to being totally hooked to soccer at this level. I know that I have been postponing or delaying reality for a few weeks but maybe reality is overrated after all and as Alfonso maintains living with ones illusions, fantasies and sport is better. I have temporarily shelved my cynical disposition along with my diminishing inclination to work and find myself caught up in the enormous goodwill and the feel good factor generated by this event. Emulating our affable President, JZ, I proudly wear my multi-coloured SA scarf and have watched most of the games either at home or at Bicccs with friends.

President Zuma in turn said he was pleased at how well the World Cup was progressing. Blatter told us that general crime levels were down as a result of the extra security measures and police presence required for the Cup. Blatter was very complimentary about the friendly and warm welcome extended by all South Africans to the visiting soccer fans and teams. He said that South Africans were very tolerant and open minded people unlike the G8 protesters in Toronto. I offered that it was a case of African warmth and the power of ubuntu. He said that he was well received in South Africa but admitted that he was not as popular or well liked in Europe. I wonder why? JZ told Blatter that at the G8 and G20 sessions in Toronto, David Cameron and Angela Merkel sat next to each other during the England Germany match. Proceedings were temporarily halted to allow the heads of state to watch the game and the two were constantly looking at messages on their phones as the game progressed. More proof if ever we needed it, of the power of soccer to eclipse uninspiring matters of state. But Sepp Blatter has known this all along. He also knows that he has one of the best jobs in the world. He is treated like a head of state wherever he goes in the world without the tiresome burdens of trying to run a country.

Blatter was scathing towards the G8 protesters in Toronto. He said they had it too good, were far too wealthy and comfortable. He added that they should visit South Africa to see real poverty, hardship and people living in shacks. Well said Mr. Blatter but then how do we justify spending R50 billion give or take a few billion to build only our stadiums, for a short lived dose of distraction, euphoria and heartbreak, over the more pressing and legitimate needs of unemployed people living in shacks and dying in our provincial hospitals. Imagine if for the next six years we could allocate the same energy, funds, dedication, professionalism, tight deadlines, project management skills and accountability utilized to build the stadiums, the Gautrain and to host a successful World Cup, towards solving our low cost housing backlog and our dysfunctional education and public hospital systems. We have been anaesthetized for now by the inherent escapism of this spectacular event but I fear this will soon wear off and once the love fest with the world is over, we will have to face a form of post coital depression.

In parting, Captain Chaos threw Sepp Blatter a curved Jabulani ball and asked him to predict which team was going to win the World Cup. Blatter ever the skilled negotiator and cautious diplomat replied carefully that his position did not allow him to comment because if he did pick a team and that team went on to win, then people could say that he had rigged the outcome. Gavin one of the Bicccs proprietors asked the FIFA President to sign his autograph on a Bicccs menu with a blue marking pen. Blatter then shook hands with all the waiters before leaving to enjoy a leisurely lunch at Ritrovo next door.

Whether he has a God complex or not, hubris is always an omnipresent danger waiting in the shadows ready to pounce on the powerful to bring them to their knees and teach them humility. In Sepp Blatter’s highly organized world nothing is left to chance so he is holding thumbs and praying to himself that the remaining games go smoothly. There were so many hard questions we could have asked Blatter but this was neither the time nor the place to put the man on the spot. As a student of applied ethics and without irony, I could have asked him about the inner workings of FIFA’s ethics committee but time did not permit such fanciful excursions. There were a host of technical questions we could have asked him about referees decisions and video camera technology. I could of asked him why soccer experts and legendary stars like Eusebio are complaining that fewer goals are being scored in this World Cup yet many more goals are being scored off the field of play by fans including some spectacular own goals by countries gutted by the early failure of their teams.

Speaking of own goals, Blatter is about to give both Nigeria and France red cards for their political interference in soccer in their respective countries. Goodluck Jonathan, the new President of Nigeria, a man who needs all the luck his name can muster to rule his vexed and fractious country, has decided to punish the poor performance of the Nigerian soccer team by banning them from international competitions for two years. It’s an ill-considered and idiotic decision by an educated man who dresses like a rap artist, who is possibly pandering to the masses for political reasons and reminds me of the kind of insane utterances and behaviour of that infamous homicidal buffoon, General “Big Dada” Idi Amin of Uganda. FIFA rules dictate that national federations face suspension from world football if they do not manage their affairs independently of political interference. Blatter has said that FIFA will deal with any kind of political interference regardless of the size of the country. It seems only FIFA has exclusive rights to political interference.

Goodluck has 48 hours to come to his senses. It will be interesting to see how FIFA deals with rogue state, North Korea. Back home, it appears North Korea’s soccer team is presently undergoing rigorous reorientation exercises in the deep recesses of a coal mine, working on improving their endurance levels and upper body strength.

Meanwhile on the same day, the war of words between Argentina and Germany was escalating ahead of their quarter final showdown on Saturday. Bastian Schweinsteiger, whose surname means “he who climbs pigs”, said that the Argentinian team used intimidation and showed no respect towards referees and other players. He even accused the Argentinian fans of invading and occupying the seats and spaces of other fans and then refusing to move. I thought that invasion and occupation was a cherished German pastime especially at hotel resorts when German holiday makers get up early before everybody else and put their towels on all the sun loungers.

Turns out the young German side, many of them from immigrant backgrounds refused to be intimidated by Argentina. They not only neutralized the threat posed by Lionel Messi but in the process they outclassed and outplayed Argentina. It was a demolition job and must have been extremely painful for Maradona to watch and endure such humiliation. In the end, his crazy antics, his hugging and kissing of his players and his attempt at a German accent, was not enough to inspire his players. The German side came out in their very smart black and gold kit and if history is anything to go by, you just know that when the Germans dress in these colours, things are about to get ugly. Chancellor Angela Merkel, the saviour of Greece, sat in the VIP section, wearing her favourite red party jacket. She stood up and clapped every time Germany scored. She had every right to giggle and behave like an excited schoolgirl. This was no time to show restraint. Eventually barely able to contain herself she walked up to a clearly delighted JZ; hugged him and planted a big fat kiss on him. Relations between Germany and South Africa have never looked so good. Perhaps we can look forward to more arms purchases to bolster our small fleet of corvettes and submarines? Maybe an aircraft carrier or two is what we need not only to boost German exports but also to protect our sardines and the new wave of German burgers expected to set up residence in the Cape.

As for Sepp Blatter, I admit that I have been critical of him in the past both in conversation and in writing but last week on a fine Highveld morning he had willingly but unwittingly ventured onto our revered pavementista turf. We were his hosts at Bicccs and as good hosts you never insult or criticize a visiting guest in your own home. Under a warm African sun we chose rather to radiate humaneness and extended to him the warm embrace of an ubuntu welcome. We were prepared to receive Mr. Blatter at our table with courtesy and respect. And finally, following Madiba’s legendary example of reconciliation and forgiveness, we chose to forget Mr. Blatter’s sins for a brief shining moment and instead offered him redemption in coffee and true friendship on the pavement.

Costas Ayiotis
Pretoria