₦airaland Forum

mowah:
Nice gesture from the Icelandics , I really like these guys. But this is also a sign that these guys know us well

LieDetector:
If Marcus's prediction is anything to go by, it means Argentina will win Croatia and we'll defeat Iceland by a wide goal margin. Let's say 3 nil. Then come 26th, it'll be all square in our match against Argentina and all square in Croatia against Iceland.

The table will be

Argentina - 5
Nigeria - 4
Croatia - 4
Iceland - 2

We'll qualify by goal advantage.



We need goals against Iceland. Play me the formation that put 4 past Argentina, even if we lose, I won't be bitter. At least we exhausted our options.

Bolowolowo:
For those of you that are saying the Iceland knows us very well from the Ikeme gesture, it really isn’t that difficult. All it takes is quick google search. I’m currently based in NA and the Ikeme story was all over the sports sites and tabloids.

somehow:
You're a lost cause.

somehow:
Tried with just 1 weak shot at go? did you see what Mitrovich did against costa rica? a lone striker coming even into his own half to right for balls when none came to him.

Two shots and an header. Watch again.

I no watch what Costa Rica match but if dat what you expected from a lone striker, Ighalo did exactly the same on many occasions.

Please, watch the match again.

forgiveness:
My friend, if you are becoulded by emotions to remit judgement, I have gone beyond that.

I don't care about what Ighalo played years ago, I am talking about what I saw yesterday which is fact.

You all shouting Ighalo didn't play well. Ok who will play well in that situation?

Na Iheanacho abi na Simy? Well, maybe simy can do well alone yesterday but I don't think Iheanacho will do nada yesterday. Fact.

Read my lips abi na finger again. Iheanacho will do nada if isolated like Ighalo yesterday.

Simy will do little too because he still needs support but Mikel didn't do anything to support or add pressure.

You people should cool down and read match with common sense before you start shouting this player no good.

The ball Ighalo took a weak shot was as a result of no Nigerian player in the box to receive a pass.

MetalJigsaw:
I'm still very pissed right now. I'm trying very hard to get over the heartbreak and disappointment.

Even if he was too stubborn and foolish play the obviously essential 3-5-2 instead of that useless 4-2-3-1, I still can't fathom why he pushed a red hot Iwobi to one side. Iwobi is not a winger. He (iwobi) has shown this each and every time he played ther particularly in the last three games.
Shows Genot Rohr is not a good coach and is too rigid ... in this modern day football.

If Iwobi had played in the AM role and played Tyrone instead of the ineffective Shehu I swear we'd have won that match. at worst a draw.


I almost cried that night... It just seemed like Gernot Rohr deliberately sabotaged us.

maputohq:
OGA... Oil dey your head. We lost that game after that own goal. Though I would love Ebuehi over Shehu, he wasn't as bad as cats wants us to see.

Daninya11:
Is it safe to say that Gernot Rohr sabotaged us against Croatia as Westerhof did against the Italians in U.S.A 94?.Rohr knows the right thing to do and yet he chooses to do the Opposite...

Since the last game against the Croats, we are yet to see or hear anything from the camp of the S.E...I hope the team has not been disbanded.

If we fail to qualify out of the group, Gernot Rohr must be sacked.
There are so many fine young and talented Coaches who can do better...

Our team has what it take to even top our group. The Croats didn't do anything special that was deserving of a win...

Beating the Icelanders will be a herculean task but with the right mindset,tactics and formation, we can win the game.

I am still Optimistic we can still Qualify...

#SoarSuperEagles

MetalJigsaw:
This is so true and intellectual.


Where Are those morons that opposed my stance that some peeps here are tactically better than Rohr? He's just a fortunate white man. Nonsense

Meliforme:
Simy is our best striking option.

Bunique:
Guys here are just looking for excuses. it is possible we play 352 and still lose. we lost that game because of two mistake goals aside that we did very well. we made it difficult for them with the caliber of midfielders they possessed they could not create clear cut chances we were simply unlucky.
This world cup shows how difficult it is to score goals. Germany that is known for goals could not score yesterday even Brazil could not create clear chances to score they scored through the brilliance of Coutiho. what of Argentina? even spain could not use their smooth passes to score they relied on the individual doggedness of costa, even Portugal was more of the brilliance of Ronaldo. what of France, Uruguay with cavani and Suarez?
My point is teams are becoming more technical this is where you need players who would create something special, we need to make good use of our set pieces they may make the difference because most teams are now very cautious.

Bunique:
Guys here are just looking for excuses. it is possible we play 352 and still lose. we lost that game because of two mistake goals aside that we did very well. we made it difficult for them with the caliber of midfielders they possessed they could not create clear cut chances we were simply unlucky.
This world cup shows how difficult it is to score goals. Germany that is known for goals could not score yesterday even Brazil could not create clear chances to score they scored through the brilliance of Coutiho. what of Argentina? even spain could not use their smooth passes to score they relied on the individual doggedness of costa, even Portugal was more of the brilliance of Ronaldo. what of France, Uruguay with cavani and Suarez?
My point is teams are becoming more technical this is where you need players who would create something special, we need to make good use of our set pieces they may make the difference because most teams are now very cautious.

Martz101:
i thought is actually early to be intoxicated with alcohol. what do i know?

Meliforme:
Simy is our best striking option.

Joebie:
Rohr to tweak Eagles’ formation against Iceland
By Ayo Olu Ibidapo - June 17, 2018 1919 0

https://aoifootball.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/WhatsApp-Image-2018-06-16-at-20.29.16.jpeg

Super Eagles’ Coach Gernot Rohr intends to respond to his team’s 2-0 loss to a superior Croatian side as latest reports from the camp of the Eagles indicate he will tweak their formation and playing personnel against Iceland.

Reports gathered by AOIFootball.com’s correspondent who is in Russia show that the Franco-German tactician will pull the strings and rest some of the players he has kept faith with since the World Cup qualifiers and the friendly matches.

Players like Simeon Nwankwo may be given the nod over Odion Ighalo who has been Rohr’s preferred choice in the striking role, and the manager may also rest captain Mikel John Obi and give either John Ogu or Joel Obi the chance to pair with the duo of Wilfred Ndidi and Oghenekaro Etebo. Ogenyi Onazi may also be given a look- in.

One of Ahmed Musa or Kelechi Iheanacho may also be picked to start ahead of Victor Moses who is yet to find his rhythm in the past 3 games he has featured for the team.

Abdullahi Shehu and Bryan Idowu may keep their places but will be under pressure as Tyronne Ebuehi and Elderson Echiejile are breathing down their necks to return to the starting lineup.

AoiFootball

Meliforme:
Simy is our best striking option.

Martz101:
even you that always believe iwobi cannot play in the middle and his wasteful when played believe we lost because he play out wide, we didn't loose because iwobi played out wide, we lost because the players.

iwobi plays in the wing for arsenal, he should be used to it, coutihno played just in the position iwobi played and he scored from there and effected the game positively.

all the boys including iwobi played badly

Humility017:
I tell you..... a German is in charge now...
a very organised tactician...who wanna make name for himself and not money...

Humility017:
when I said rohr was not a smart coach...some peeps came for my head....

he deserve coach the likes of Madagascar because that's the best he deserves... so annoying his cluelessness gonna cost us good outing in this world cup

Humility017:
yeah sure...they're others who have done better....
but when one take a swipe at his [Etebo] few months experience playing in la liga already played with crots la liga stars ..his work rate and ability to combine well with mikel upfront...passing accuracy.... one will give him a go ahead... also he barely make rough tackles
against Croatia I will want him [Etebo] play.... combine well with ndidi in the middle...
anyway let's see how the friendlies and rohr camping scheme turns out...

joseph1013:
THE WITCH AND THE SUPER EAGLES
by Leon Balogun

My sister’s best friend’s mom had a best friend, and she was the witch.

She could read auras, or some crazy nonsense like that. I was 19 years old when I was told about her. I was trying to become a professional soccer player in Berlin — I didn’t have time for nonsense. But I had this issue … I was injury prone. Every year I felt like I would take one step forward and two steps back in my career because of the injuries. My sister, who is 13 years older than me and also my best friend, had an idea: The witch. Maybe witch is a bad term. I’m not sure. But she was a little spooky.

When my sister first pitched me the idea, I sort of rolled my eyes, like, Yeah … I’m sure she’ll know what’s wrong with me.

“No, Leon,” she’d say to me, “She sees things.”

“Finng me the n-word, using other racial slurs.

Oasis007:


I do not aim to taunt you, but you suggested the Duo of Ndidi and Etebo to form a defensive midfield Pivot and Mikel as an AM against the Croats - yet you keep blaming Rohr for the Loss.

If you are in charge, what would you have done Difference if I may ask pls?! Tweaking the Formation or changing the Personnel?!

pelezico:
And why didnt he play with these players before. This guy is experimenting at best. If the report is true then yes its a good selection but the opportunity was there in the first game.

joseph1013:
THE WITCH AND THE SUPER EAGLES
by Leon Balogun

My sister’s best friend’s mom had a best friend, and she was the witch.

She could read auras, or some crazy nonsense like that. I was 19 years old when I was told about her. I was trying to become a professional soccer player in Berlin — I didn’t have time for nonsense. But I had this issue … I was injury prone. Every year I felt like I would take one step forward and two steps back in my career because of the injuries. My sister, who is 13 years older than me and also my best friend, had an idea: The witch. Maybe witch is a bad term. I’m not sure. But she was a little spooky.

When my sister first pitched me the idea, I sort of rolled my eyes, like, Yeah … I’m sure she’ll know what’s wrong with me.

“No, Leon,” she’d say to me, “She sees things.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s give it a try.”

Let’s meet the witch.

She was a middle-aged Russian woman. She didn’t look like much of a witch, or an oracle for that matter. Her eyes walked up and down me as soon as I entered the room. My eyes darted around. She started to talk to me and my sister. It was about nothing in particular really, but I think she was studying me — my energy. Her first diagnosis was that there was an hole in my aura. I was like, Alright, well, anybody could have guessed that.

She said, “It’s on your right side.”

“The hole in my aura?”

“Yes.”

That’s where I had a scar from a bad right-shoulder injury. She had no idea about it, and she had never seen me with a shirt off … she just, felt it, I guess. Now she had my attention.

Then — and I’ll never forget this — she really blew me away.

“Four or five years ago, you lost a person very close to you, but someone who you didn’t completely know, either.”

I don’t think I said anything. She went on about how all people have someone like this in their lives, whether they know them or not. Someone who, no matter the strength of your connection, you will feel connected to — your soulmate, in a way.

She said, “Is this true, Leon?”

“Yes, my grandma.”

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/649ed230-d8357ae4-328f-45e1-819a-b0db084e9967.jpg?width=1000

I was amazed. I hadn’t thought about my grandma that much since she passed when I was 16 years old. But, this lady was right. My grandma’s death had a huge effect on me, and I had never even met my grandma, who lived in Nigeria. That’s the part that was wild to me. My sister didn’t know anything about my reaction to grandma’s passing. This woman, though, she saw it. She told me I had to heal my soul, my heart, before I could become the player I wanted to be.

After we left, I didn’t completely understand if my experience with her was successful. The most important thing that came out of that day was that it got me thinking about my grandma. When I got home, my mind went straight back to the day my dad told me the news.

Because I had never met her, my dad didn’t tell me right when it happened. He actually waited a few days — that’s how distant my relationship was from her. She only spoke Yoruba. So when we talked on the phone when I was little, my dad would try to translate for us. He had never taken me to Nigeria, for reasons he didn’t make clear to me, and I only ever saw photos of my grandma.

When my dad told me, he pulled me aside in our home. I have this vivid memory of the feeling — like, this terrible, terrible feeling of sadness. I crawled up the stairs, sobbing my eyes out. I cried for an hour. My mom had to come to my room and ask me what was wrong … she couldn’t understand why I was so sad, either.

I think, what I knew at a young age was that my grandma represented a part of my life that I didn’t completely understand. I was mixed race. My mom was a German, my dad Nigerian. I was different than the other kids. And I knew that my grandma, and Nigeria, had a lot do with it.

I now wanted to understand more about that part of my life. And because of a witch, I knew how important that part of me truly was.

My dad used to walk three miles every day before school when he was growing up in Nigeria. I knew this because he never let me forget it. It was one of a handful of stories he would tell me about his childhood. He moved to Germany in 1966, learned the language, got his diploma and met my mother. He was the blueprint for immigrants. He made it sound easy — being a foreigner who looked different — but I knew it wasn’t. Because even though Germany is a progressive country, there is that group of people, especially in sport, who still lurk around waiting to knock you down if you’re different.

I met one of them when I was playing U-16 in Berlin, in 2003. I had given up on my dreams of being Thierry Henry or Ronaldinho, so I was playing at center back. The other team had this huge striker. He was bad news. I played really well, and I kept him in my pocket. We were up 1–0 at halftime, and as I was walking to the locker room, the striker kicked the ball at my head. It missed me by about an inch. Woosh. I turned, and he was yelling at me. He was calling me the n-word, using other racial slurs.

Nobody did anything. There were people all around us, and nobody did anything. After the game, while we were still at the park, I told my dad about him kicking the ball at me.

“Leon, you must always be calm. You’re smarter than they are. You’re better than they are.”

Then I told him what the boy said to me. And that, for the first time in my life, was when I saw my dad lose his cool. He had this look on his face. I told him I wanted to go home because Mom said she was making a nice dinner.

“No, we have to fix something.”

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/cfa66c8b-72bf6182-c4ba-4886-86d6-ca82342296f3.jpg?width=1000

So we waited in the parking lot for the boy to come out with his parents. They did. And my dad let them have it.

“Hey, how can you raise your kid like this? Do you know what he said to my boy? We all come here to play football, and you lost, and that’s the game. But your son is 15 — he’s 15! — and he acts like this. I hope that you can one day fill his heart with love, instead of hate.”

Their back-and-forth went on for awhile, and the other parents weren’t very nice. But I will remember what my dad said forever: Love, instead of hate. He was very upset in that moment, but he used empathy over rage. And I began to understand, little by little, how he made being an immigrant look so easy. I think because my dad worked so hard to integrate into society in Germany, it gave me the opportunity to do the opposite and connect with my Nigerian roots.

I never supported the German national team, mostly because I thought they were arrogant and their football was boring to watch. Even in 2006, when Germany hosted and the whole country had World Cup mania — I secretly cheered for them to lose. Because I was a kid, and I was rebellious. And because, even though I felt in my mind that I was just as German as all the other kids, a lot of people didn’t see me like that.

I was always asked, “Where are you from?” Or, “How long have have you been here?”

I would think to myself sometimes, Maybe I was meant to be Nigerian.

Even after I overcame some of the injury issues I had as a teenager and began playing regular minutes in the 2. Bundesliga and Bundesliga, that thing — the part of my soul that I had been told to heal all those years ago — was still missing from my life. In 2014, I was coming to the end of my contract with Fortuna Dusseldorf. I wasn’t sure where I would go next. There was uncertainty in my life, and from time to time I would think of the witch. What did she mean, “heal my soul?”

One night in March, my phone rang. It was a Nigerian number … it was Stephen Keshi, the Nigerian National Team manager. I was sweating as soon as he introduced himself. I wanted him to say the words I had thought about for so long. He spoke for awhile about how he wasn’t totally familiar with me, but he liked how I played.

Then he said it: “I would like to invite you to be a Super Eagle.”

Those words … they meant so much to me. It meant validation for every step of my footballing journey. It meant happiness for my family. Most of all, it meant an opportunity to go to Nigeria.

And that … that was everything to me.

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/49bba59f-balogun_quote-card.jpg?width=1000

When I told my dad the news, he was skeptical. “Are you sure it was the coach?” he said.

And he had a point. I don’t want to speak poorly about the people of Nigeria, but there are some that are real scam artists. They spoil our name. I think that was a part of why my dad never took me back there.

“Yes, Dad, it was the coach. I even listened to his voice on YouTube right after to make sure it was him!”

He warned me about some of the things I could encounter in Nigeria. It wasn’t quite the celebratory phone call I had played out in my head, but that was my dad, always preparing me. But he was proud, I could hear that in his voice. I knew, as much as I understood about myself, about my father, I would learn even more on this trip.

My first impression of Nigeria was probably same as that of any person who has lived in Germany his whole life: Man, it’s hot — heat like I’ve never experienced. I flew down with Anthony Ujah, a striker playing for Koln at the time. He helped me prepare for the trip a bit, too. Tips on what to do, how to act, all that stuff. When we stepped off the plane — the craziest thing was that people knew who I was. Some smiled and asked for photos. I couldn’t believe it. Just as I knew that in Germany I would always be seen as black, I assumed that in Nigeria I’d be seen as another white guy on a business trip. But they knew me, they were happy for me. Maybe I was meant to be Nigerian.

We landed in Abuja, the capital city. We were there for a few days before training started. When we drove to practice that first day, I was listening to music, headphones in. “Nobody Knows” by August Alsina was playing. I like that song because, as somebody with a little fame, people sometimes seem to forget that I go through things, too. As I was listening, I saw a boy on a skateboard on the street. He had a disability. He had to sit on the board and use his hands to get around — something you would never see in Germany. And I just started to cry. I think, because I had seen some of the poverty in the city — in this beautiful city, with wonderful people — that it just sort of put things into perspective for me. It made understand how fortunate I was to grow up in one of the world’s greatest countries, to have the family I did. It was a humbling few days, and that boy’s problems made mine seem so inconsequential.

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/5927726e-gettyimages-966588870.jpg?width=1000

It was a such an important trip for me, such a great trip. I felt a sense of … healing. I felt like I was connecting with a part of me that had been lost — or better yet, never truly found — a long time ago. I love Nigerian food; I love the culture. Everyone is always playing music, laughing … trying to have the best time. I felt at home. And I understood that I could have two homes.

I want to make both of them proud in Russia at the World Cup. Because Germany gave me this opportunity to have success with Nigeria. It is my footballing heritage. I get that. But when I wear that Super Eagles kit … it feels so good. And when we beat Zambia in October 2017 to punch our ticket to Russia, it felt amazing. I remember the final whistle, our stadium in Uyo erupting. I fell to my knees in tears. John Obi Mikel, our captain, came up to me.

“No, no, you don’t get to cry. You don’t get to cry. We’re going to Russia!”

We’re going to Russia. It still feels surreal to say. I just can’t wait.

I know when we get there and I hear the national anthem, I’ll feel that much closer to my family, to my two homes, to my grandma.

And that, more than anything, is going to make the World Cup incredible.

https://storage.googleapis.com/www-theplayerstribune-com/uploads/8b8afc99-leon-balogun-signature-black.png
Leon Balogun
NIGERIA

Source: https://www.theplayerstribune.com/en-us/articles/leon-balogun-nigeria?utm_source=social&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=worldcup18&utm_term=Balogun

pelezico:
Im throwing this out there. After the Mikel Obi interview i think theres more to the lost tha meets the eye. After watching the way we qualified and the match against Croatia who were so average i beleive that Nigeria threw the match.

oloriooko:
I have lost hope in SE making any meaningful impact in this WC but I still support them 100%

joseph1013:
THE WITCH AND THE SUPER EAGLES
by Leon Balogun

My sister’s best friend’s mom had a best friend, and she was the witch.

She could read auras, or some crazy nonsense like that. I was 19 years old when I was told about her. I was trying to become a professional soccer player in Berlin — I didn’t have time for nonsense. But I had this issue … I was injury prone. Every year I felt like I would take one step forward and two steps back in my career because of the injuries. My sister, who is 13 years older than me and also my best friend, had an idea: The witch. Maybe witch is a bad term. I’m not sure. But she was a little spooky.

When my sister first pitched me the idea, I sort of rolled my eyes, like, Yeah … I’m sure she’ll know what’s wrong with me.

“No, Leon,” she’d say to me, “She sees things.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s give it a try.”

Let’s meet the witch.

She was a middle-aged Russian woman. She didn’t look like much of a witch, or an oracle for that matter. Her eyes walked up and down me as soon as I entered the room. My eyes darted around. She started to talk to me and my sister. It was about nothing in particular really, but I think she was studying me — my energy. Her first diagnosis was that there was an hole in my aura. I was like, Alright, well, anybody could have guessed that.

She said, “It’s on your right side.”

“The hole in my aura?”

“Yes.”

That’s where I had a scar from a bad right-shoulder injury. She had no idea about it, and she had never seen me with a shirt off … she just, felt it, I guess. Now she had my attention.

Then — and I’ll never forget this — she really blew me away.

“Four or five years ago, you lost a person very close to you, but someone who you didn’t completely know, either.”

I don’t think I said anything. She went on about how all people have someone like this in their lives, whether they know them or not. Someone who, no matter the strength of your connection, you will feel connected to — your soulmate, in a way.

She said, “Is this true, Leon?”

“Yes, my grandma.”

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/649ed230-d8357ae4-328f-45e1-819a-b0db084e9967.jpg?width=1000

I was amazed. I hadn’t thought about my grandma that much since she passed when I was 16 years old. But, this lady was right. My grandma’s death had a huge effect on me, and I had never even met my grandma, who lived in Nigeria. That’s the part that was wild to me. My sister didn’t know anything about my reaction to grandma’s passing. This woman, though, she saw it. She told me I had to heal my soul, my heart, before I could become the player I wanted to be.

After we left, I didn’t completely understand if my experience with her was successful. The most important thing that came out of that day was that it got me thinking about my grandma. When I got home, my mind went straight back to the day my dad told me the news.

Because I had never met her, my dad didn’t tell me right when it happened. He actually waited a few days — that’s how distant my relationship was from her. She only spoke Yoruba. So when we talked on the phone when I was little, my dad would try to translate for us. He had never taken me to Nigeria, for reasons he didn’t make clear to me, and I only ever saw photos of my grandma.

When my dad told me, he pulled me aside in our home. I have this vivid memory of the feeling — like, this terrible, terrible feeling of sadness. I crawled up the stairs, sobbing my eyes out. I cried for an hour. My mom had to come to my room and ask me what was wrong … she couldn’t understand why I was so sad, either.

I think, what I knew at a young age was that my grandma represented a part of my life that I didn’t completely understand. I was mixed race. My mom was a German, my dad Nigerian. I was different than the other kids. And I knew that my grandma, and Nigeria, had a lot do with it.

I now wanted to understand more about that part of my life. And because of a witch, I knew how important that part of me truly was.

My dad used to walk three miles every day before school when he was growing up in Nigeria. I knew this because he never let me forget it. It was one of a handful of stories he would tell me about his childhood. He moved to Germany in 1966, learned the language, got his diploma and met my mother. He was the blueprint for immigrants. He made it sound easy — being a foreigner who looked different — but I knew it wasn’t. Because even though Germany is a progressive country, there is that group of people, especially in sport, who still lurk around waiting to knock you down if you’re different.

I met one of them when I was playing U-16 in Berlin, in 2003. I had given up on my dreams of being Thierry Henry or Ronaldinho, so I was playing at center back. The other team had this huge striker. He was bad news. I played really well, and I kept him in my pocket. We were up 1–0 at halftime, and as I was walking to the locker room, the striker kicked the ball at my head. It missed me by about an inch. Woosh. I turned, and he was yelling at me. He was calling me the n-word, using other racial slurs.

Nobody did anything. There were people all around us, and nobody did anything. After the game, while we were still at the park, I told my dad about him kicking the ball at me.

“Leon, you must always be calm. You’re smarter than they are. You’re better than they are.”

Then I told him what the boy said to me. And that, for the first time in my life, was when I saw my dad lose his cool. He had this look on his face. I told him I wanted to go home because Mom said she was making a nice dinner.

“No, we have to fix something.”

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/cfa66c8b-72bf6182-c4ba-4886-86d6-ca82342296f3.jpg?width=1000

So we waited in the parking lot for the boy to come out with his parents. They did. And my dad let them have it.

“Hey, how can you raise your kid like this? Do you know what he said to my boy? We all come here to play football, and you lost, and that’s the game. But your son is 15 — he’s 15! — and he acts like this. I hope that you can one day fill his heart with love, instead of hate.”

Their back-and-forth went on for awhile, and the other parents weren’t very nice. But I will remember what my dad said forever: Love, instead of hate. He was very upset in that moment, but he used empathy over rage. And I began to understand, little by little, how he made being an immigrant look so easy. I think because my dad worked so hard to integrate into society in Germany, it gave me the opportunity to do the opposite and connect with my Nigerian roots.

I never supported the German national team, mostly because I thought they were arrogant and their football was boring to watch. Even in 2006, when Germany hosted and the whole country had World Cup mania — I secretly cheered for them to lose. Because I was a kid, and I was rebellious. And because, even though I felt in my mind that I was just as German as all the other kids, a lot of people didn’t see me like that.

I was always asked, “Where are you from?” Or, “How long have have you been here?”

I would think to myself sometimes, Maybe I was meant to be Nigerian.

Even after I overcame some of the injury issues I had as a teenager and began playing regular minutes in the 2. Bundesliga and Bundesliga, that thing — the part of my soul that I had been told to heal all those years ago — was still missing from my life. In 2014, I was coming to the end of my contract with Fortuna Dusseldorf. I wasn’t sure where I would go next. There was uncertainty in my life, and from time to time I would think of the witch. What did she mean, “heal my soul?”

One night in March, my phone rang. It was a Nigerian number … it was Stephen Keshi, the Nigerian National Team manager. I was sweating as soon as he introduced himself. I wanted him to say the words I had thought about for so long. He spoke for awhile about how he wasn’t totally familiar with me, but he liked how I played.

Then he said it: “I would like to invite you to be a Super Eagle.”

Those words … they meant so much to me. It meant validation for every step of my footballing journey. It meant happiness for my family. Most of all, it meant an opportunity to go to Nigeria.

And that … that was everything to me.

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/49bba59f-balogun_quote-card.jpg?width=1000

When I told my dad the news, he was skeptical. “Are you sure it was the coach?” he said.

And he had a point. I don’t want to speak poorly about the people of Nigeria, but there are some that are real scam artists. They spoil our name. I think that was a part of why my dad never took me back there.

“Yes, Dad, it was the coach. I even listened to his voice on YouTube right after to make sure it was him!”

He warned me about some of the things I could encounter in Nigeria. It wasn’t quite the celebratory phone call I had played out in my head, but that was my dad, always preparing me. But he was proud, I could hear that in his voice. I knew, as much as I understood about myself, about my father, I would learn even more on this trip.

My first impression of Nigeria was probably same as that of any person who has lived in Germany his whole life: Man, it’s hot — heat like I’ve never experienced. I flew down with Anthony Ujah, a striker playing for Koln at the time. He helped me prepare for the trip a bit, too. Tips on what to do, how to act, all that stuff. When we stepped off the plane — the craziest thing was that people knew who I was. Some smiled and asked for photos. I couldn’t believe it. Just as I knew that in Germany I would always be seen as black, I assumed that in Nigeria I’d be seen as another white guy on a business trip. But they knew me, they were happy for me. Maybe I was meant to be Nigerian.

We landed in Abuja, the capital city. We were there for a few days before training started. When we drove to practice that first day, I was listening to music, headphones in. “Nobody Knows” by August Alsina was playing. I like that song because, as somebody with a little fame, people sometimes seem to forget that I go through things, too. As I was listening, I saw a boy on a skateboard on the street. He had a disability. He had to sit on the board and use his hands to get around — something you would never see in Germany. And I just started to cry. I think, because I had seen some of the poverty in the city — in this beautiful city, with wonderful people — that it just sort of put things into perspective for me. It made understand how fortunate I was to grow up in one of the world’s greatest countries, to have the family I did. It was a humbling few days, and that boy’s problems made mine seem so inconsequential.

https://cdn.theplayerstribune.com/uploads/5927726e-gettyimages-966588870.jpg?width=1000

It was a such an important trip for me, such a great trip. I felt a sense of … healing. I felt like I was connecting with a part of me that had been lost — or better yet, never truly found — a long time ago. I love Nigerian food; I love the culture. Everyone is always playing music, laughing … trying to have the best time. I felt at home. And I understood that I could have two homes.

I want to make both of them proud in Russia at the World Cup. Because Germany gave me this opportunity to have success with Nigeria. It is my footballing heritage. I get that. But when I wear that Super Eagles kit … it feels so good. And when we beat Zambia in October 2017 to punch our ticket to Russia, it felt amazing. I remember the final whistle, our stadium in Uyo erupting. I fell to my knees in tears. John Obi Mikel, our captain, came up to me.

“No, no, you don’t get to cry. You don’t get to cry. We’re going to Russia!”

We’re going to Russia. It still feels surreal to say. I just can’t wait.

I know when we get there and I hear the national anthem, I’ll feel that much closer to my family, to my two homes, to my grandma.

And that, more than anything, is going to make the World Cup incredible.

https://storage.googleapis.com/www-theplayerstribune-com/uploads/8b8afc99-leon-balogun-signature-black.png
Leon Balogun
NIGERIA

Source: https://www.theplayerstribune.com/en-us/articles/leon-balogun-nigeria?utm_source=social&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=worldcup18&utm_term=Balogun