The ‘ABOUT ME’ I never wrote.

I’m NOT a Journalist. I’m just another news consumer with an opinion. I’d like to think that, like most professions, it’s a serious, special business being a trained journo. That’s not to say I take myself any less seriously but I won’t hold myself up as one, regardless of how anything I do bear any semblance with the practice by any measure including how much or less I know about it’s rudiments and inherent ethics.

This notwithstanding, we’d all agree that knowledge sharing isn’t quite the preserve of just a chosen few.

From politics (An area I deliberately restrain myself from) to sports and everything in between, we all hold a unique duty to build, inspire and educate each other by sharing those parts of the whole we hold relevant information, opinion, superior context strength etc to unravel and to surmount the challenges of these parts; the aggregation of which define those hurdles – physical and socio-economic – that confronts our localized settings from home, work place to greater Ghana.

In all this, being responsible with and about any kind of knowledge or information we wield, and for the persons likely to be affected by it, is what sets us apart individually.

For this reason, you can rest assured that I didn’t set up a social media account to prove myself right AT ALL COST, tow a popular line, cast myself, AT ALL COST, in the shadows of established theories and ideologies; the culmination of which, often, manifest as the many very stupid and blind cult personality/regime battles we have over “Paul and Apollos” while the real issues fester in wait to finally destroy us all.

When I share an opinion, when we engage in a banter, It is not personal. I hold no ulterior motives beyond establishing the nature of a thing – black or white. In every differing view of mine, I almost automatically look forward to the opportunity of reading a superior view point that’s factual and verifiable. I’m most willing to concede because I find no glory in necessarily being right and proving you wrong.

I am here to learn.

THE RED LETTER: DEFINING KOTOKO

When Ghana’s biggest football club, Kumasi Asante Kotoko, played Wassaman FC — a struggling Division One League side — it did appear the latter were in for a battering, no?

Well, apparently not.

Last Sunday, with the same levels of expectation as always for every Kotoko game and my rather routine creation of a mental ambience that carries the ‘don’t faint, it’s only another football match!’ warning, I sunk my flat behind into a comfy couch to watch Kotoko make an arduous task of a job that otherwise could have been dispatched with much more ease at the Baba Yara Stadium (henceforth referred to as ‘BY’ in this article and, indeed, the blog itself) had most of the club’s personnel on the pitch shown a wee bit of self-confidence and authority.

Now, before you interrupt me, I know what you’re thinking — and you’re probably right! Like everyone else, I also love that part of the FA Cup’s theme song where it says “obia nny3 obia” (to wit, ‘all are equals’) to rehash the general character of a competition that churns out a lot more surprises than a Kardashian would receive on their birthday, but do take a reflective journey into Kotoko’s season thus far and tell me if this sweet melody doesn’t describe exactly how our performances have been in all competitions especially at the BY: truly ordinary — with a capital ‘O’.

Amos Frimpong’s expert conversion of an ‘Amos Frimpong’ (sorry, Vincent Penaltinga Atinga — we own this one!) in the first half was enough to ensure Kotoko secure a seventh straight qualification into the quarter-finals of the FA Cup since the competition’s rebirth. Impressive as that sounds, the club’s performance on the day wasn’t quite as inspiring — that is, if you, like me, look forward to a worthy consolatory silverware with the league title looking more and more unlikely a prospect.

I’m not entirely sure how you’d want to process this but, much as I remain an eternal optimist when the subject is Kotoko, I’m also a realist who believes in being pragmatic in our acts to ensure success, and that’s just the reason for my lack of comfort in riding on sheer luck to succeed. My wandering mind won’t just allow me to enjoy a Sunday afternoon of decent football, and it certainly didn’t when Kotoko huffed and puffed against Wassaman, instead spinning across a myriad of concerns with each kick of the ball. It was that tiring and yet nothing settled in quite as easily as the need for Kotoko to quit glossing over the details of exactly the kind of practices that would guarantee sustained success.

What do I mean?

You see, most clubs build an identity over time, one that is definitively theirs. From unique administrative cultures that encompass a lot of sub-structural concerns — including player purchases and personnel recruitment — to the establishing of template playing modules or styles, football boasts quite a variety. But Kotoko-Wassaman served a chilling reminder of a complete lack of anything even remotely close to a ‘Kotoko identity’.

Shame on me for reaching the uncomfortable point of fingering the worst culprits on the day, but after enduring 90 torturous minutes of missed chances and faulty passes, could I be blamed for asking in which world but the mediocre one Kotoko currently operates the Porcupine Warriors’ line-up consist of today’s Yakubu Mohammed, Abass Mohammed and Obed Owusu as target-men?
While this is by no means an exhaustive list, it does pass satisfactorily as one that makes it difficult to tell what Kotoko looks out for in either retaining or recruiting players — a challenge which, in turn, blurs out the club’s intent for the season.

The Kotoko problem cannot be surmounted by mere rhetoric, of course. There is absolutely no way out of said predicament in the absence of a will to set informed plans and the commitment to follow through. One can only hope and pray Dr Kwame Kyei has a concept that would eventually set him apart from becoming yet another ordinary Executive Chair of this great family.

Long live the King’s club!
Fabu!