Each match day is an event to
look forward to. Be it just a match in the universities league, the national
league or those locally arranged Is Moto matches pitching the big boys versus
the small lads. But there are events in the hockey calendar a Vulture won’t
trade for anything. When I say anything, I mean anything, be it CATS,be it free
unlimited ugali at Blessed, even for opportunities ya ‘kudishi bila shati’. Don’t
ask me what that means, just Google. I can bet a bull they wouldn’t swap this
events even if a truck of Bluemoon overturned and there’s provision of enough
liquor to keep them stupid for a year. You should know that’s a big deal
because the basic needs of the vulture are earthly food, ‘heavenly
food’ and those drinks that makes a teacher awaiting graduation throw reason to
the dogs and proclaim profanities. Remember I didn't mention anybody’s name.
The residential training is one such event
that is looked forward to with so much gusto.This is a fortnight of nothing but
pure hockey .It comes when preparing for the big events like the National games
where we are the champions and the East African games where we are the current
silver medalists I must add. The residential involves waking up for the morning
runs, going for breakfast,resuming training, breaking for lunch, resuming
training and the cycle continues. One would wonder what is so interesting about
this muscle torture. Nothing. It is just that this is one moment the good
university recognizes how much the sportsmen and women of the university bleed
and sweat while defending its good name. Not that we don’t appreciate when they
give us that hundred bob allowance after using over two thousand shillings to travel
from West Pokot to honor a league fixture. The residential training gives us an
opportunities of eating some of the delicacies we just see in the food charts in
the wall hangings and swallow saliva for while window shopping in the malls of
Nairobi. As I said earlier ‘kudishi’ and ‘kudishi bila shati’ are the most sacred
activities of this sect.
The league match at Homa Bay is also
an event to look forward to. And yes it is because of the opportunity of
sampling the local Pisces cuisine. All the Maina Mwangis of the team desires is
to visit the capital city of the Nyanza republic, learn some basic skills on
hooliganism and partake of this aquatic delicacies that make the Varaqs of the
world ooze so much intelligence. And maybe learn something about how we took
that thing.
However, the event that retains
the number one spot in my sports calendar is the coastal job. It never disappoints.
Save for the sweltering heat it is a weekend to look forward to. The itinerary
involves doing the business early on Saturday, hitting the beach for the rest
of the day, securing a communal room at Kendas Village,showering and crossing
the road into Club Lambada. Anybody who has been there will tell you this is
the new Sodom,the sin city. A place where you momentarily forget who you are,
what you believe in and just indulge in the excesses of the night. I would have
employed vivid description to describe to you what goes down there but for fear
of excommunication from the church, I’ll just live it at that. That would kill
my mother. Just think of anything that would please a party animal with the
morals of a chicken and they have it, under one roof. They are the Nakumatts of
the night accessories.
This coastal job is thus all about the sideshows, the fun, and the momentary lapse of judgments and of course the effects of drugs and substance abuse. Tomorrow I have a CAT on drugs and substance abuse and I know that my practical examples supersedes all literature and works of some revered grey bearded scholars who think the world of academia is all about tough words and looking phony. So this is my way of rebelling against the education system, of telling them that I will not read their books if I can just watch the effects of these substances on local specimen readily available.
There were however some changes
to the coastal job, 2012 edition. The last time my captain was Alpha Male, the
slayer of virgins, this time my captain is John Magda the Livewire,the slayer
of them all. This guy has surely come a long way. He is the epitome of the epic
story that anybody can be what he wants to be if he sets his minds to it. His
selection as captain just but puts icing on the story of real transformation of
that humble boy from Ingotse Boys who used to train in paper bags as shoes. He
arrived in campus three years ago with a Nokia phone that the only recognizable
feature in it was the NOKIA brand. It was fastened using a rubber band because
the outer cover was loose and thus could easily detach leaving him with a toy
for a phone. Now he has a Bird phone to reflect his new status. Rumor has it that
he acquired this new device just after the Westgate looting.Word also has it that
he has a relations in the KDF. I’m not of course insinuating anything.
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This phone has the group SMS application
and for a captain’s communication needs it comes really handy. He has however
not mustered the use as sometimes the team receives texts that have no
contextual meaning
Hey,Mabuda,nakula ugali pambana Blessed
So?
We understand though, technology
can be challenging.
Just a week into his leadership,
I can confidently say we off to a good start. He led us to a win with a captain’s
performance to roost against a team that has best us for years, the Mombasa Institute;
managed to get us kicked out of a hotel; managed to get us banned from ever
travelling as a team using Guardian Angel to Coast. All in a weekend! And oh,
did I mention that he jumped into the Indian Ocean with our allowance?
In my last piece I told you I was
arrested thrice in two months. Well, the last arrest came in Mtwapa. The arrest
wasn’t by the Kenya Police or the KDF. It wasn’t by the feared MRC either.
You won’t believe this.We were arrested by Mr. Wasike,just a Mr. Wasike with the
help of Texas Alarms of course. If you see my chest area and see Mr. Wasike’s
chest area you’ll know why I’m insisting on the tremendous help he got. You
must be asking who this Mr. Wasike is and what constitutional powers he has.
Mr. Wasike is the newly promoted assistant manager at Kendas Village. I deliberately
put the word newly to justify why he takes his work too seriously.
The only mistake we committed
against Wasike is that we loved each other so much, so much that we wanted to
share a double room amongst the sixteen members of the team and one super fan.
You see absolute power has corrupted Mr. Wasike so much that he forgets
sisi wote ni watu wa chama moja. And it’s not like we were planning to sleep any way.
His cell wasn’t that bad and as he took his eyes off us to watch some ladies behind
for a split second, we bolted off into the deadezt of Mtwapa's nights. So I hear my
teammates and I have been declared persona non grata in that premise. You
should know this kind of recognition doesn’t come easy. As for the rumors that Mr.
Wasike’s face may have received a caress from a small boulder travelling at about
186 miles per second, I’ll neither deny nor confirm that. All I can say is that people
should just know people.
Armed with thirty five shillings each,
the change from the excesses of Lambada,we headed to a coffee joint, tried
resting our head on the tables, without much success I must add. Tired, broke,
hazy, wasted, we slowly sipped our coffee waiting for the sun, the bus and for Nairobi.
To make more money and to wait for yet another edition of the Coastal Job.
