A fleeting glimpse at this morning’s papers through the fog of a pre-dawn stumble into the airport, suggests that Joel Santana’s fate is sealed: Safa has given the lugubrious Brazilian their official backing, which means he should be on a flight home to South America by the end of the week. He won’t need his old job tending Carlos Alberto Parreira’s garden, having built up a sizeable Swiss bank account as reward for masterful achievements such as beating Madagascar (by an entire goal, at that); instead, he’ll be able to watch from afar in relative comfort as South Africa tries desperately to muster a little pride when the World Cup kicks into action.

We’ve had some odd coaches in recent years — Philippe Trousier tops an eclectic list — but Walter Mathau’s Brazilian body double might just be the strangest yet. Passably fluent in English on those rare occasions when Bafana have performed admirably, but wholly reliant on translators in the more regular case of the national team playing appallingly, no one’s ever quite got a handle on a man who oversaw an inspiring Confederations Cup, but who this week conspired with a lacklustre squad to lose to a bankrupt island of hard-drinking seal fishermen.

Safa has two approaches to the removal of one coach, and the installation of another. Option one is simple: after gleefully piling blame upon the departing villain, the association (over long, expensive lunches that include delighted projections of just how much money will flow in when the World Cup rides into town) throws about a group of sensible, approachable alternatives — Sir Alex Ferguson, Jose Mourinho, Carlo Ancelotti, Marcello Lippi, Arsene Wenger, Luis Scolari — and then, amazed that none of football’s coaching aristocracy leap excitedly at the position, produces a foreigner we’ve barely heard of who is unquestionably Bafana’s saviour.

But while we’ll probably hear similar names discussed as and when Santana does get ejected, the more likely course of action involves invoking the Jomo Sono Clause, the key paragraph in Safa’s constitution (just below the detail on mandatory Meerlust Rubicon and lightly seared crayfish at all meetings) that insists Jomo will coach the national team to all major tournaments where possible. Forget that the man successfully got his team demoted two seasons ago, and that while back in the PSL this season, Cosmos look excellent candidates to head straight back down again: where remotely possibly, Jomo simply has to be installed.

There’s already been a quiet South African coup, Gavin Hunt leading a trio of ‘advisors’ to Santana; it’s hard not to suspect that they’re foot soldiers sent ahead to prepare the way for the latest ascension of King Jomo. Sono is a powerful man in local football, and coaching Bafana to a home World Cup is an assignment he’d both prize, and make clear he wanted to those who need to know. And while Jomo the coach has never matched Jomo the player, the success at the Confederations Cup, coupled with the historical record of host nations buoyed by local support, suggests there’s an outside chance of Sono staving off the first round exit that looms ignominiously for a team in chaos.

It’s not cast in stone, perhaps, but South African football has its certainties. Benni McCarthy (who appears to have lost his membership card to Blackburn’s Virgin Active) will quit international football and then come out of retirement at least once a month. Mark Gleeson will demolish the buffet in the press box in minutes. Bafana will have a woeful team manager. And Jomo Sono will sit on the periphery of the team prior to a major tournament, ready to leap cheerfully into the breach and take over as coach. In as much as anything’s worth a bet in South African football, take a punt on Sono being at the helm come June 2010.

  • Glittering night at Arnold’s Restaurant in Kloof Street saw the annual Pinelands Mighty Dodos awards dinner, hockey’s premier celebrity side wrapping up yet another promotion-winning season in a blur of inexpensive red wine. And yes, the stars you read about on a daily basis were all there: Big Lurker Fleming, 2009’s Player of the Year, Matt Sheel, Rookie of the Year, and little Petal Le Grange, whose mum let him stay up to receive his Dodo of the Year award. I’d imagine it’s in all this morning’s papers; second in the league, Pinelands’ Team of the Year, and record average crowds of nearly 12, made 2009 a glorious year for hockey’s celebrity superstars. Season tickets for 2010 are already on sale — I’d get hold of one as soon as possible.

  • Contact Dan at dan@metropolis.co.za


    RSS
    Digg
    de.li.cious
    facebook
    LATEST FEATURES
    Focus on Bafana The latest Bafana ranking has underlined the importance of getting the national team.
    That's more like it! He called the Champions League dull, now iafrica.com columnist Firdose Moonda changes his mind.
    Time to cash in (c) backpagepix SA rugby is boasting an embarrassment of riches and it's time to cash in, writes Rob Peters.


    Print this page
    Send this article to a friend