For a moment we all believed

So Bafana are out of the 2010 World Cup. It wasn't that surprising considering the task they'd left themselves after the 3-0 defeat to Uruguay last week. Beating the French by a handful of goals always seemed unlikely but Bafana surprised most people by actually BEATING THE FRENCH!!! Looking back now, there's a lot of "ifs". If only Katlego Mphela had scored rather than hitting the woodwork against Mexico. If only he'd done the same against France. If only they hadn't capitulated against Uruguay. But this is now in the past. Bafana are out and have the unfortunate honour of being the first host country knocked out in the first round. When the draw was made towards the end of last year, I was glued to my computer screen in my office, wearing my Bafana shirt, makarapa and had my vuvuzela close by. When the names were drawn, I was gutted. In a group with France, Uruguay and Mexico, surely Bafana would get no more than a couple of points. In the end they got 4 points and lost out on goal difference. Maybe some South Africans will be disappointed but they ended the campaign admirably. Ranked 83rd in the world, a draw versus Mexico and a win against former world champions France is a superb return.

Walking across Nelson Mandela Bridge

Walking down to the public viewing area in Newtown, central Jo'burg, the vuvuzelas were going, Bafana shirts were seemingly worn by every other person and flags were flying. Nelson Mandela Bridge was impressive with the massive banners portraying Madiba. As we were nearing Mary Fitzgerald Square, the sound of the vuvuzelas grew ever greater. After getting through security (again they didn't check the socks - another valuable chance to smuggle in alcohol wasted!), the area was busy but by no means full. What was great about this venue as opposed to the Soweto fan park was that it was not an official FIFA fan park but run by the city, therefore it was not bound by the same restrictions. I've moaned before about the sanitisation of the World Cup but here was a venue that embraced a cross-section of South Africa. Local beer, local food and local crafts, the many stalls that displayed such goods created a vibrant ambiance. Pap and vleis, boerewors rolls, makarapas, flags, football shirts and a giant figure made from Coca-Cola crates all added to a South African experience of which I have not had during this tournament.

 Stalls at the viewing area

Looking at the Johannesburg CBD in the distance

If Bongani Khumalo's headed goal in the 20th minute was met by a cheering crowd, Yoann Gourcuff's red card for elbowing Bafana midfielder MacBeth Sibaya in the face and Katlego Mphela's bundled effort in the 37th was cause for jubilation. The improbable had become all too possible. The news came in that Uruguay were leading Mexico 1-0. More cheers. More vuvuzelas. More beer. The halftime run to the bar was chaotic as fans were singing, dancing and blowing their vuvuzelas. No longer was there just a forlorn hope but a belief that Bafana would defy the odds.

 Intensely following the game

The crowd and the Coke man

But it wasn't to be. Mphela hit the crossbar, the side netting and forced a save from the French goalie but the goals Bafana needed were not forthcoming. The French had the audacity to kill the dream with Florent Malouda's 70th minute strike. The atmosphere temporarily flattened but once people had realised that beating the French was an achievement in itself, the party started.

Walking back across the now illuminated Nelson Mandela Bridge, it struck me just how much the tournament is going to miss these crazy Bafana fans. It's just so difficult to explain what it feels like to be in the middle of all this. It's incredible!  

 Back across the bridge

The World Cup will miss Bafana, but they're not out yet

Time to abandon all attempts at rationality again as Bafana take on France this afternoon in Bloemfontein. Even if Bafana do managed to stuff the hapless French by a load of goals, they still need Mexico and Uruguay not to draw. It's a tough ask. Unlike in the build-up to the opening game, there is no longer an atmosphere of belief but one of desperate hope. The vuvuzelas are back but with a whimper, not a bang. No-one dares utter what they are secretly thinking, that Bafana have scant chance to progress. It's splashed all over the front of the papers; The Star begs Bafana to "Storm the Bastille". Archbishop Desmond Tutu is praying for a "Bafana miracle". TV and radio are telling us to get behind the team once more. Actually, there is one group that has dissented. The ANC's Youth League has criticised the performances of captain Aaron Mokoena, stating, "We believe captain Aaron Mokoena sometimes makes costly mistakes, which the team and the country cannot afford in a do-or-die soccer encounter". It may well be true but they're not doing themselves any favours by saying this before the game.

If, and it's an enormous if, it all goes to plan, there will be partying in the streets of Jo'burg tonight! If not... well, I'm just not going to think about that possibility. I will be in the thick of it once again at the fan park in Johannesburg CBD with my Bafana shirt and vuvuzela, screaming myself hoarse until the end. For an Englishman, I'm doing a good impression of being South African...

I wouldn't support Italy just because they're European. Actually I wouldn't support Italy.

This is Africa's World Cup or so we're told. Ever since South Africa won the bid to host the World Cup, various sporting and political elites have said that this tournament is for all Africa. This idea of a continental identity elsewhere would seem bizarre at best. Imagine the absurdity if England won the rights to host the 2018 edition and declare that it was a tournament for all Europe! Brazil haven't claimed that 2014 is South America's turn, Asia is too vast for any coherent idea of what it is to be "Asian" and if Australia hosted 2022, I doubt there would be much trans-Tasman bonhomie.

If this really is Africa's World Cup, the African teams seem to have missed this. Cameroon are out, South Africa need to score a bucket-full of goals, Cote d'Ivoire would have to score even more, Nigeria and Algeria are rooted to the bottom of their respective groups and Ghana failed to punish 10-man Australia. Yet, more significantly, many South Africans supporting the other African teams because they are African. As the only non-African in the room watching the Cameroon - Denmark game, I deliberately cheered for the Danes to annoy everyone else. They were jubilant when Eto'o put Cameroon ahead but clearly irritated with my chants of "Denmark! Denmark! Denmark!" and the two Danish goals. TV and radio commentators argue that fans are being let down by the African teams. As an Englishman, it's a strange concept. I wouldn't feel let down if Italy or France got eliminated. I'd positively revel in it! Maybe people on other continents have different views on this? It was the same during my MSc research in Ghana and Togo in 2006. Supporters that I spoke to in the respective capitals wanted Angola, Cote d'Ivoire and Tunisia to win if their teams couldn't.

At the Egypt - Italy Confederations Cup at Ellis Park last year, I was cheering for the Egyptians and they duly won. The vast majority of the crowd at that game were South Africans. While this is admittedly a massive generalisation, almost all the white South Africans were supporting Italy while non-white South Africans generally chose Egypt. Catching up with some of the hardcore Bafana fans after the game, they assumed that I was supporting Italy. They were shocked when they found out that we were supporting the same team. "But you're from Europe!" This brings up questions of what it means to be African and who identifies themselves as such. However, this is a blog not an essay...

My World Cup matches

Recently acquiring quarter final tickets for Ellis Park bring my World Cup matches to a respectable five:

• England v USA, Royal Bafokeng Sports Palace, Rustenburg
• Australia v Serbia, Mbombela Stadium, Nelspruit
• Round of 16, Soccer City, Johannesburg - looks like Argentina v Mexico
• Quarter Final, Soccer City - possibly England v Uruguay
• Quarter Final, Ellis Park, Johannesburg - perhaps Japan v Portugal

Happy days...

Learn to love the vuvuzela

Here's the link to my opinion piece on vuvuzelas in Friday's Edinburgh Evening News but the cheesy title was nothing to do with me!

Had numerous beers last night in an attempt to make England v Algeria more interesting but failed. An afternoon of food and football awaits...

No pap?? But this is South Africa!

Mexico's 2-0 win over France last meant that while it is mathematically still possible for Bafana to qualify for the knockout stages, it would require Bafana to score a glut of goals and hope that Mexico and Uruguay do not play for a draw (click here for the permutations). While President Jacob Zuma has said that he will be wearing his Bafana shirt today in support of the boys, the cracks are not only showing but gaping. Few people now believe that Bafana can still progress but they are clinging to a tattered hope.

Scouring the papers this morning, I came across a great, if somewhat cynical opinion piece in the Mail & Guardian by the South African film director Zola Maseko dispelling the myth that the World Cup (and the 1995 Rugby World Cup) has unified the Rainbow Nation. Of the 95 cup win, he writes: "That World Cup victory peddled the mischievous lie that centuries of racial hatred, economic exploitation and racial discrimination had been miraculously wiped away, in one fell swoop." He wants to see something more substantial than some simple flag-waving patriotism, arguing that "Wouldn't it be something to see 80,000 white South Africans go into the township and plant some trees? Or just sit and drink with their countrymen. No rugby. Just sharing, listening and understanding." I'm not sure how tree-planting would help nation-building but this dream will remain just that. There'll be a lot more of this kind of commentary in the months to come.

Last night while watching the the above game, my host asked me how much vendors were selling pap (a staple food for many black South Africans made from ground maize) for in the stadiums. Pap and steak or chicken is a common sight at South Africa domestic football matches cooked and sold by a plethora of vendors around the stadium. It is also one of my highlights of the football experience here. I replied that there wasn't any pap in the World Cup stadiums.

"But this is South Africa! They must have pap there! Why is there no pap?"

"Because only sponsors' products are allowed. There's just the American beer Budweiser, no South African beer, not even Castle. All the soft drinks are Coca-Cola products. Even the coffee. They serve bland hotdogs and burgers. No pap, not even boerewors."

"But this could be Brazil or Germany or anywhere!"

And he's spot on. The sterile corporatisation imposed by football's governing body to satisfy their sponsors is robbing the match day experience of its South African flavour. Informal food vendors are not allowed within a certain radius of the stadium, which restricts the tourists' opportunity to sample this food and the vendors' ability to sell as my host had found out to his detriment. Thankfully the vuvuzela is not to be banned otherwise the World Cup really could be anywhere.

Bafana fever is contagious but I think there's a cure

When England played South Africa in the group stage of the 2007 Rugby World Cup and lost 36-0, I was the only one in the bar with an England shirt on. I got some abuse, a lot of banter and some free drinks in sympathy. A year later, I was back in the same bar with the same shirt on as England lost 6-42 to the Springboks. Cue more abuse and banter (not sure if I had drinks bought for me that time). In both cases, the bar was packed and the atmosphere was raucous. The vast majority of the clientelle in both cases were white, middle class South Africans. In between these games, Bafana embarked on their disasterous 2008 African Nations campaign, getting knocked out in the first round. I watched a couple of these at the same bar but both times it was virtually empty. Only myself, a couple of waiters and a car guard sat and watched the games. Fiercely patriotic for the rugby, ambivelent at best when it came to the football. This neatly fitted into the stereotypes of sport in the country; rugby for white, middle class men (predominantly Afrikaans) and football for the black working class.

Although I had initially planned to watch the Uruguay game at the fan park in the centre of Jo'burg, I chickened out due to the sub-zero temperatures so I decided to return to this bar to see if Bafana fever had infected even the most rugby-hardened areas. It had. It wasn't packed like for the rugby but it was still a lot busier than those January evenings two years ago. More of a mixed crowd than I found for the rugby, nobody sang the national anthem but there were a couple of guys blowing vuvuzelas inside, which grated on me. It was a more low-key affair than what I experienced in Soweto but the fans still got behind their team. Howls of disbelief met the penalty decision but once the game was over, the atmosphere was flat. Whether people will be back for the Bafana v France game remains to be seen but when the Tri Nations rugby returns next month, that place will be packed once more with Springbok fans. Business as usual.

The vuvuzelas have all but stopped, as if in mourning. The hype of Bafana has been shown to be just that. Many are bitter towards the referee but there is much feeling that Bafana have let people down considering that they promised so much. If the talk yesterday was that of Bafana uniting the nation, the drubbing has disappointed a nation. Bafana fever will disappear as quickly as it emerged.

The front and back pages of The Star and the Sowetan this morning describing the disappointment of the night before