How do you prepare for a crunch game against RVA at home? A game that would decide the Prescott cup winner 1982?
That was the challenge that Dave Anderson and captain Nesbitt Wesonga faced in chilly July 1982. I remember that we all went for a long run around the school, something that we had never done before in any practice session. Interestingly fitness and perseverance were to prove to be crucial factors during that game. I also remember that Dave Anderson paid a lot of attention to the scrum and how we would handle line outs and scrum downs against the solid Kijabe boys. Our goal kicker, Otieno Jango put in some extra goal kicking practice.
There was no doubt that this was a great team but we had not beaten RVA since that famous Dave Madara win at RVA in 1980. We had not even beaten them in 7s since. But neither had RVA beaten this great ’82 side. Our last meeting had been a draw at windy Kijabe.
But probably the most important preparation in these kinds of games has to be psychological. Long discussions were going on in Kirk (most of them involving Wesonga) and they were all centered on why we were going to win this game… and why there was no way we were going to lose it.
RVA arrived with the shiny Prescott cup and the question on many people’s minds was whether the cup was going back on the same bus or would remain in Lenana, a home it had never known. One of the things I remember about that chilly afternoon was that the crowd was exceptionally large with plenty of cars parked close to Stirlings. It would have been the perfect time to rob the school because virtually everybody was there.
The huge expectant crowd made it worse for us players and it was much harder to settle down. Big game nerves can lose you a game that you would otherwise have won.
Our local fans rose to the occasion and their familiar loud chants long before the game started portrayed their great excitement and anticipation. The moment of truth had arrived.
“All calamity….. all omni????.. away.” I can still hear the chants and feel the butterflies in my gut like it was yesterday… and not 32 years ago this month.
The ref awarded Lenana a penalty early in the game and Otieno J pointed to the posts. Everybody was surprised. It was at least 10 yards into our half (we were playing towards Kinyajui house). A good way to gain ground, I said to myself. He would miss and RVA would have to restart on their 25. Otieno had of course never converted from this kind of range. Such kicks were left to folks like Jacko Omaido and nobody else. An interesting aside here was a game with a visiting side (Blackheath from the UK, in 1979 I think) when Jacko converted a penalty from close to the Kenya 25. We were watching the game at the RFUEA and when the ball went over as it was still rising, the Blackheath pack leader yelled at his players; OK guys no more penalties anywhere on the pitch.” We of course laughed at the significance of what he was saying acknowledging that Kenya had a goal kicker who could get it over from anywhere on the pitch.
But back to my tale. This was Otieno J. and NOT Jacko. Although they both passed through the same house, Mumia.
Stirlings held its’ breath but burst into loud cheers when the ball actually went over and between the posts. 3 points!! I couldn't believe it! I excitedly went over to congratulate Otieno J. who was un-flustered at what he had just accomplished. And neither was he receptive to any congratulations just yet. “Jahaa, the game isn’t over,” he scolded.
And indeed the joy was short-lived because RVA quickly responded with a penalty and as the game progressed it looked like they had the upper hand. Their defence was solid and they were paying very close attention to our star winger Kimwele. It hardly mattered that we won most of the balls from the scrum because the pressure was always too high the minute the ball game flying out.
On the other wing we had an unlikely winger in Nigger Odhiambo. He had started out as a hooker but had insisted on playing on the wing. He wasn’t particularly fast but he could side-step and had earned that position from dogged determination and persistence.
We were into the second half and you could cut through the tension on Stirlings with a knife.
“Come on guys.” I heard the captain’s repeated shouts as exhaustion set in. Then the ball went down the line yet again and into the hands of Nigger. He stopped dead in his tracks and then suddenly took off seeing a gap through the solid RVA defense. Most were expecting him to be tackled at any minute but he kept going. One RVA hand lunged to grab him but he arched his back and it just missed his shirt.
We must have all been too exhausted because I don’t remember seeing any support close to him. It is like the whole team became spectators as Nigger hurtled down the wing on the half facing the bunduu away from Kinyanjui house. Nigger was over the line and it was a try.
Pandemonium on Stirlings.
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