It was going be a good day. I
had many reasons to be
optimistic and happy. First, I
got some extra bucks designing
a campaign poster for a
prospective candidate for the
Hall Governor elections.
Secondly, tonight, I hoped my
beloved club – Manchester
United (the Red Devils) would
crush Chelsea F.C. for good.
It was the Champions
League Finals in Moscow. I
already felt I was in Russia so I
bought me a bottle of Smirnoff
Vodka with the cash I made
earlier in the day. I would use
part of the cash to also pay Dr.
Wood, the campus carpenter,
to repair my shelf that was
about falling off the wall. The
remaining cash would be able
to keep me alive for about a
week before I got my monthly
upkeep allowance. What a
glorious day!
I didn’t attend lectures on
that day so I spent the
morning outside the campus,
making sure the printer
finished the job I had given
him earlier because I had to
deliver the posters to the
client. Afterwards, I spent the
afternoon at the toilet end of
our hostel, smoking some
joints with men and discussing
how the evening would pan
out. Cristiano Ronaldo would
score at least two goals , I
bragged. Big Joe would have
none of that. Nonny-042
nodded in agreement and he
whistled to the tune of Lucky
Dube’s Prisoner playing from
a stereo nearby. Mucor swore
the Red Devils would not even
have a shot on target. Nobody
tried to argue with him; we
knew the substance was
already having an effect on
him. “O boi, this guy don dey
dull o. Just one wrap of nri
nnunnu , him don dey
misyarn”, I said. Everyone
laughed at the joke.
The Hall Governor had
already told us he planned to
show the match on the outside,
just in front of the hostel. We
would help him arrange the
chairs and set up the stage and
white screen, on which the
visuals would be projected.
By 4pm, I had already
placed bets with two people on
what the outcome of the match
would be. I bet that the Red
Devils would score first and in
the other, I bet the first yellow
card would be shown to a
Chelsea F.C.player. I couldn’t
bet what the final scores
would be; in as much as I
wanted my beloved team to
win, I still knew Chelsea sabi
put sand for person garri.
After setting up the stage in
front of the hostel, I proceeded
to Nwanyiocha ’s spot to buy
my meal for the evening. I
couldn’t eat a lot so I just had
some boiled potatoes and fried
plantain. I still discussed about
the upcoming match with some
guys at her place. Another
person wanted to place a bet
but I was short of cash. After I
was done with the meal, I
finally decided I couldn’t watch
the match inside the campus. I
would go off-campus to New
Berries Garden, where it would
be easy for me to destroy some
properties in case the Red
Devils lost.
I left the campus about an
hour before the match started.
I needed to reach the place on
time so I could sit at a very
strategic position and also get
chilled beer. When I arrived,
Chelsea fans had already
brought a cow and placed at
the corner near the suya spot.
They painted the cow with the
colors of the club – blue and
white. They were singing and
shouting on top of their voices.
Noisy fellows!
I took my seat and watched
the match preview. I saw the
Luzhniki Stadium and the
history of both clubs were
revealed, including their head-
to-head standings. It was the
first all-English finals in the
history of the competition. I
saw the lineup and I cursed
out. Why would Owen
Hargreaves play on the right
wing? I prayed the decision
wouldn’t come back to haunt
us at the end of the match. I
also feared Michael Essien
starting out as a right-back for
Chelsea would cause some
troubles for our wingers.
Another issue I also had with
the lineup was Ryan Giggs not
starting. Well, nothing spoil
sha; I’d have to trust Sir Fergie
as always.
The match started. I felt we
controlled possession fairly and
Hargreaves was performing
better than I expected. All of a
sudden, Scholes and Makelele
clashed in mid air. Holy Shit! I
hoped the later was injured
and that Scholes could
continue. Evil Me! In a couple
of minutes, we were rejoicing;
Cristiano Ronaldo had scored
from a Wes Brown cross. I
requested for another green
bottle and some cancer sticks.
I felt good.
But it didn’t take long for
our joy to be cut short. Almost
be cut short, actually. I
thought the ball had entered
the goal area only for Van der
Sar to pull off an incredible
save. Wow, the World Best
Stopper! We were still in
control of the game. Peter Cech
pulled off spectacular saves at
the other end to deny us extra
goals. Wicked Keeper!
All of a sudden, Lampard
had a simple finish and the
scores were level. The Chelsea
fans that were quiet all the
while erupted in jubilation and
didn’t allow us any rest during
half time. Chants of
Abramovich, Lampard, Drogba
and Terry filled the air. These
guys no go fit shut up for once,
I thought.
The match resumed some
minutes later; I was on my
third bottle by then.
Throughout the second half, I
was literally on my feet. O boi,
Chelsea wan finish us. I almost
fell off my seat when Drogba’s
shot hit the post.
Extra time came and tension
filled the whole arena. Any
phuck up from any team now,
na serious gbege. Lampard
struck the underside of the
bar and I screamed “Jesus”.
The wicked John Terry almost
broke my heart by clearing the
ball off the line when I thought
Giggs had scored. Later, Drogba
was given his marching orders
but it didn’t do us any good.
Penalty beckoned and
eventually became a reality. I
couldn’t bring myself to watch
the shootouts. But hey, does it
matter anymore; I wasn’t in
the mood to destroy any
properties again sef. So I
chilled and had my fifth green
bottle. Tevez scored, Ballack
scored, Carrick same, then
Belletti......and then the chosen
one missed. Chai, Ronaldo
why? I buried my head in my
palms. So this is the end, I
thought. Lampard, Hargreaves,
Ashley Cole and Nani all
scored. Then it was time for
Terry, the Wicked to take his
spot-kick. He adjusted his
captain’s armband and then all
of a sudden, lost his footing. It
was all a dream. Chelsea fans
cursed at him; we rejoiced. At
least, this was a life line.
Anderson then scored, followed
by Kalou and then Giggs.
Anelka stepped up; I prayed to
God to please grant me this
one last wish tonight. Van der
Sar dived to the right and
saved Anelka’s shot. We had
won!
There was jubilation
everywhere. Bottles were
broken, chairs were smashed
on the bodies of enemies, and I
ducked as a green bottle flew
in the air. The supporters of
the two clubs clashed and
were exchanging blows. Some
sharp Manchester United fans
rushed towards where the
Chelsea fans kept the cow to
slaughter the poor animal in
anger but faced stiff resistance
from the enemy line. There
was chaos everywhere.
I escaped the venue by
scaling a tall barrier set up by
irate Chelsea fans. I went back
to the campus that night and
saw Dr. Wood dejected.
Chelsea fans were mourning
their loss. This was the final
blow to those loud-mouthed
folks, I thought.
That night, I had a dream. I
was in Moscow getting a
winner’s medal together with
the Manchester United players.
Mine was given to me after
Ferdinand had collected his. As
I was about to collect the
medal, I suddenly woke up. I
realized I was still in my room
in the hostel and that my
phone had just been stolen.

published on: www.feelgoodinconline.com/blogs/