AN OPEN LETTER TO MY DEAR SOFAPAKA
Dear Sofapaka,
Receive greetings from me from the discomfort of my anguish. It is my heartfelt wish that you are all doing fine, even though it is evident that you aren't. But that's besides the point. I am here to pour out my sentiments on the rapid deteroriation of your being and whether there is anything to be done to stop you from careering into the singeing abyss you are plunging into without any brakes. This is a sentimental letter so forgive me if I'm spot on on the emotions but way off the mark in facts, though to be honest, I believe I have most facts spot on as well. Anyway to back to my sentiments-
In the year 2009, being a novice in this field called football, I found myself looking for a place to call home (basically a team to support). I must admit that trying to find acquaintance in this circle of football fandom is a difficult affair owing to football's outrageous popularity. Sure you attach yourself to whatever team is winning at the moment, but after falling knee-deep into the fanatical murks like the rest, you begin to nurture passion and love and admiration and adoration and all that you thought you knew and loved is replaced by what you actually know and love. That year, I began following the then Kenya Premier League-K.P.L (now Sportpesa Premier League) and was immediately pulled towards AFC Leopards, owing to the influence of those around me and my ethnicity (funny how this thing is pulled into everything, huh). However, after exploring and carving my own path, I figured that aside from appreciating the rich history of AFC Leopards, I harboured no exalting reservations for the team. So I embarked on a solo journey of allignment and that's when I saw you. Your raw freshness, your unblemished reputation, your capturing presence caught my eye and enchanted my heart as a fetching lady from heavens would. You had just stepped into the league, yet there you were, causing all sorts of havoc and chaos and fracas. You rattled establishment and mocked status and class. You mocked history and wrote your own. You beat the best and became the best. Throughout the 2009 campaign, you impressed me with your sleek, flowing brand of football, which I must admit is candy to my eye no matter what any other random earth dweller says. I didn't know how, but coming to the close of the season, as you wrote your name in the KPL title winners books, I was charmed. My heart had thawed. I had at last found a place I could attach myself to and hold on for the long run. Sofapaka became my family and I vowed to follow them. Who wouldn't melt at this classic tale of an underdog rising above their limitation?
Since then you have gone from strength to strength, from winning back to back Gotv shield cups, making an unapologetic foray into CAF Champions League preliminaries ( unheard of in Kenyan football recent history). You beat Egyptian side Zamalek, another history written down as beating Egyptian opponents had become something akin to feeding dogs soap. You were seen, you impressed and you earned the respect you deserved, at just two years old on the big stage. And the consistency thereafter has seen you ranked amongst Kenya's elite football outfits just six years into your premiership status. That's a meteoric rise right there, the kind of stuff only dreams, fantasies and makebelieve are made of. And it is this fast rise that has me worried that perhaps you are running out of steam. Has the pressure of being consistently at the top caught up with you and now wearing you down, dear Sofapaka? Are you sick of wanting to be the best? If so, why? Certainly I agree that you are not so badly off, but it is your propensity to exceed expectations that has me penning this letter now that you barely even meet them. The cash turbulence rocking your boat is to blame, and I understand that, but dear Sofapaka, we just need to raise our eyes a little higher and see that a cash-strapped Gor Mahia, running on pure passion of their players, technical bench and fans, steamroll and burge into history as if they bought those history books for personal entries. While I wouldn't want to compare your situation to Gor,I believe their never-say-die attitude is worth emulating. We can't let our brokeness define how high we rise because, truth is, the money situation might go on for a while since it is an issue of challenge in the entire sport here at home. So it's either we bite the bullet or sink into the null of has-beens. Our league is nothing to be proud of moneywise, but you gave us a reason to believe when you didn't have as much as experience, let alone cash, remember? We shouldn't cede that initial spirit to hopelessness. The likes of Demonde Selenge, Bob Mugalia and the evergreen John Barasa, the throbbing epicentre of the class of 2009, should be awarded with a better respect than this. Certainly going down will only insult their efforts. And surely we can't let the ageless, the fine wine, John Barasa, the only remaining member of the historymakers, down as we are now. He is our highest scorer throughout and surely we could repay his dedication and loyalty by making the goals he scores for us count.
Along the way, you have gathered fans and admirers and we hope that you don't let our passion hang in the balance. I never knew in six years I could have loved so, but now, seeing you in such turmoil makes my heart bleed and my bones crackle, it tightens my nerves to the point of splintering and that's how I know I have loved too much. We just have to keep trying. The glory is ours to lose, dear Elly Kalekwa, so it is my greatest hope that we keep it.
From a distraught fan,
The crazy
Chizzi Freshi.
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