So, those who know me know I like all things hot – be it a woman or waakye (I know, I know, in these days of wokeness, I probably shouldn’t be saying this)
For a Champions League Final weekend, it was pretty slow.
I am quickly noticing that many people do not wear facemasks anymore.
A young man who came over this weekend to do some odd jobs for me sans mask – told me decisively and with the authority of an ignoramus who has never had to be under oxygen or knows anyone who has, that “Covid-19 did not exist anymore”. Mask wearing doesn’t seem to be a requirement for boarding trotros anymore apparently. Everything seems to be back to normal as my experience over the weekend showed me.
I spent the whole football season, watching the fortnightly Tuesday and Wednesday games at establishments close to my office. On rare weekends I occasionally found my way to a friend’s house and watched some EPL matches if I was not attending my numerous weekend functions.
This weekend, I found myself wondering if it was worth checking out the Champions League final between Chelsea and Manchester City, knowing full well how dull it most likely would be. I decided, against my better judgement, to go see for myself at a local football pub in my area.
As is my nature, I did not get there before the match started. Strolling casually instead into the place, well into the match, like I owned the joint, only to find what looked like all able bodied males between sixteen and sixty from my neighbourhood there.
The unmistaken cost of Five Ghana Cedis to watch the FINALS was emblazoned on a board. The owner’s younger brother, a scrawny kid with a disproportionately large stomach doubled as a bouncer. I slipped him a twenty and entered the small shack that doubled as a covid-19 super spreader. The place was so packed I had to grind my way between people to move to the rickety table that served as a bar. I ordered a cold club, politely refusing the dirty plastic cup offered to me by the bar lady and chugged from the bottle – hopefully extending my life by year by that decision. I found myself standing between a guy with a blue wife beater and another guy who was obviously a Manchester City fan, judging from his never-ending commentary and stream of expletives whenever the team missed what he deemed to be a chance to get ahead. The owner seemed to know me, but I had no recollection of us having met. He yanked a small looking kid, barely sixteen years off his seat for me, telling the kid that if he wanted to remain seated he should buy drinks. I must exude some air of importance, because I have no idea why he did that. I waved the kid to sit back down. With the odor of armpits and unchanged boxers permeating the space, I had no intention of being there long.
Havertz scored for Chelsea before the break and I slipped away from the noxious fumes shortly after.
I promised myself to renew my DSTV subscription to be able to watch the finals next time. In the meantime, I called a friend I had beef with and humbly asked to use his DSTV account – yes I can be shameless like that – and downloaded the DSTV Now App. Turned out the rest of the match was a dud with the only goal being Havertz’s goal. Was it worth mending that fence for this match? In hindsight perhaps not.
Although Chelsea, my favored EPL team lifted the cup after 9 years…that certainly made my weekend.
Oh, yes and then on Sunday I had my first taste of that famous waakye at Spintex Community 18 that everybody had been raving about – yes, I have been under a rock. I am always skeptical about over hyped waakye. I do not claim to be an expert on the dish. But seriously how good can waakye really be right? Well, this Alhaji’s waakye was aight. Will I go out of my way to drive there or even order it to have it delivered to me, um no. If I happen to be in the area and feel for waakye I might get it. Please do not tear me apart for this. I have heard so much about this waakye, but it was just ok…It wasn’t horrible. I really do not expect much from overhyped places or football teams for that matter.
And how was your weekend?