1979 And The Injury That Killed My Soccer Dreams

1979 ended in a sensational but also extremely painful way for me. Up to this point I still considered soccer to be my only serious sport, despite all the rapid progress I had already made in rugby. I can still remember that lunch time very early in third term when the 1st XI list went up and my name was on it to start at No 4. That year we played a 4-3-3 formation with overlapping full backs on the flanks (I was the one playing that role on the right). Rugby master Mr Opiyo (who also taught history) was a great tactician and for a school team to be playing such a formation then was quite something. Those who understand soccer will know that it is a formation that requires a lot of discipline and maturity from players, especially from the overlapping full backs.

I was still a rabble then and serving on our table that week but the maroon kit arrived. I came from clearing the table after lunch to find it placed on my bed in the third form dorm where I slept. It was then that I really knew that it was for real.

It was a tough game against Upper Hill at home on Sterlings. I remember a sixth former called Njonjo congratulated me for making the team, just before we went in for lunch. That was really something coming from a house prefect.

Naturally I was very nervous at the start of the game but fortunately it was not too difficult to settle especially playing right next to Nesbitt Wesonga (the only other Kirk person on that team) who was sweeper at Number 5. That team was made up of mostly third formers and credit goes to captain Jack Mtula (head of Thomson that year) who didn’t care for anything but fielding the best talent available at Lenana that year. There was the twin attacking force on that team that was a real joy to watch of Kiragu and Oloo both from Thomson house and between the posts in goal was legendary rugby player George Steak Ondiek also from Thomson. All were third formers.

I played the game of my life causing Upper Hill plenty of problems on that right flank but we were losing 3-1 and the second half had just started when some very rough deliberate play by an Upper hill player no doubt very experienced at causing serious injury brought me down with excruciating pain. Essentially he placed his heavy studs on my ankle at the point of contact just as I was clearing the ball. To this day I believe it was all very deliberate with the clear intention of getting me off the pitch. And it worked. The pain was nothing like I had ever experienced before in my life and I was sure that I had broken something. Itebete (a sixth former) replaced me. In retrospect the replacement could not have come at a better time for tactical reasons. Itebete had been watching the game from the side lines and when he came in he literally abandoned the right back position and mostly played very deep in midfield and attack on the right flank which completely destabilized Upper Hill and helped produce 3 quick sensational goals. Final score 4-3 in favor of Lenana. Steve Alai of James had an unforgettable game scoring twice.

I spent 3 days in the school sanatorium barely able to put any weight on my right ankle. There was no X-ray machine in the san but the matron there (I forget her name) carefully examined my injury and declared that I had not broken anything. I found it hard to believe because even the pain killers she gave hardly seemed to have any effect on the pain. In the end she was proved right because I recovered enough to go back to Kirk.

Tragically that injury killed all my dreams for a serious soccer career. Back in my primary school days I had been told by several people that it was only a matter of time before I donned national colours for Harambee stars, now the injury meant that that was never to be. From then on I was destined to be only a shadow of what I used to be on the soccer pitch. I recovered around the middle of the term and struggled but never regained my position in the first XI that year. Pretty face did not lose the opportunity to jeer with glee. He met me once near the quadrangle where the team list used to be put up. “You thought you would be a permanent member of the 1st XI huh?” He accompanied it with that sarcastic laugh that I can still hear very clearly.

Meanwhile the injury never quite healed and even today kicking a soccer ball hard will bring some pain in my right ankle. I improvised as best as I could and developed a way to kick the ball with my outer foot so that there was less pain from the injury. The results in soccer were mixed but in rugby it produced a kick for touch that people are still talking about 30 years later. So at least there was something good that came out of it.

It was probably the wrong time to get such an injury because I sometimes think that if it was today it would have been treated and I would have recovered fully. But them maybe I would not have had such an eventful rugby career. Which confirms to me once again that everything ( no matter how tragic) happens for a reason.

As usual the year closed with house suppers that year and I got to taste a tiny piece of turkey and two roast potatoes unlike the previous year when all I had seen were a few miserable peas on my plate. Even with the almost ever- present pain in my ankle I was elated as I reflected on 1979. My rabble days were over and in 1980 I would be a third former. I had not only survived but had also managed to chalk up a few achievements along the way despite being a rabble in one of the worst houses to be one. The future looked tremendously bright as 1980 beckoned.