Let me just begin by saying that I am sorry for the title of this piece. I just had to make your mind spark in wonder for a while. So, now that you are away from the gutter, let’s talk rugby. Before Kakamega, rugby had not made much sense to me. There were men and a small ball and the men would run with the ball, fall, get up and look happy. That was and probably still is my definition of rugby. Before long, Kakamega happened and here rugby is a religion. Every Saturday the congregation gathers and things happen. I’m going to be totally honest with you, I still have no idea how rugby works, I have no clue what a try is or what it is for or how it is tried, I have no idea how people score and I still do not get why people have to sort of hump each other for a ball. I mean I started going to these games because I didn’t want to sleep the rest of my life, I had to spare Saturday.
What I do understand though is that, it burns. Rugby is a passion so fierce and it burns so bright that you just can’t help but get thrilled by the action. I made quite a number of friends if I may call them that with some rugby players and it’s clear as day that this guys are in love with the game. I guess that’s why it gets so interesting to see them out in the field doing some good but painful work.
I wrote this piece because this week, I thought there was a ghost in my house. If you started wondering how this is rugby related, human please, patience pays, said Essy’s lovely mom. I switched off the television and took my spot at the dining table to blankly stare at a book I have been reading for close to two months now but somehow can never get past page 131. Anyway after I sat down and blankly stared at the name ‘Chapman’, the telly switched itself back on and flipped a couple of channels before settling for SuperSport Select. I hope I got the name right. I wanted to get up and switch it off but then I remembered that in horror movies, ghosts like playing games and once you get up, that’s it for you. So I stayed on my spot and started thinking about how hungry I was. I didn’t want to get ghostified when hungry so I took a sip of the delmonte (yes I said it) on the table. Cold.
I tried thinking happy thoughts like maybe the television wanted to watch a game on SuperSport. Funny? I know right, sometimes I believe I am mental too. Anyway, just as I was about to freak out I heard the name ‘Kenya’ and ‘Rugby’ and thought cool, the ghost likes rugby too. Maybe we would bond over this major detail and he wouldn’t ghostify me. It so happened that there was a Kenya game on. Earlier on I had heard Larry Madowo, yeah the trend guy, say that Kenya would play finals with some team whose name keeps slipping off my mind.
Kenya won by the way. They started beating those guys in white so early in the game, you could tell Kenya would bag this in the first 30 minutes.
I found myself watching the game till my mom came home and that is when I realized there was no ghost in my house or maybe it was a Kenyan ghost that went to spread the good news of how Kenya actually won something in a sport in ghost town. So that’s the story of how there was or wasn’t a ghost in my house. Thank You.
Dear Future Employer,
No. I do not believe in ghosts anymore because I decided to stop watching movies that made me think about ghosts. As usual you will find no typos here, Gabriel is pretty good at hiding those from you. I know this piece about ghosts may make you want to question my normalcy and let me tell you right now, I am not a normal person. As you can see I am extraordinary, weird and sometimes I talk to my pillow. Trust me, you do not want normal working for you. Normal is mediocre. What am I? Well we will see in 3, 4, 5 years. Share please.
PS: Can we have movie night at work? And a day off for rugby? Just so you don’t ‘ruka’ me, can we include it in my contract?