I DO not know if such statistics are kept somewhere, but you cannot dispute that Mutare smashed its own radio listenership record one glorious afternoon 30 years ago, and I daresay it was a truly special experience never to be seen again in this city.
ENOCK MUCHINJO
In a bygone era when radio commentary was the only available source of real time action for domestic football in Zimbabwe, several thousands of fans nationwide – not so lucky to be at the stadiums – turned to the airwaves every weekend to get swept away by the wordplay of their favourite commentators.
But on 12 December 1993 Mutare really outdid itself as Tanganda FC, the heartbeat and pride of the city, took on giants CAPS United 265km away in the capital city Harare in a replayed final of the Castle Cup, the country’s most prestigious knockout competition.
I had been sent away to the hometown for holidays as a primary schoolboy and I remember Sakubva – the bustling township with its flurry of activity and commotion – suddenly taking on an unusual aura of tranquility that particular Sunday afternoon as pretty much everybody prepared themselves for kick-off in intense and nervous anticipation.
The busy streets were deserted as several groups of friends huddled on the roadside, glued to the mobile battery-powered receivers of those times. Older folks tuned in indoors and in the open air of homes.
Because, to everybody here, Tanganda was their own homegrown project. No single institution before had been part of their town’s collective consciousness at that scale.
The players were humble and likeable local lads from in and around the city – born and bred. They were the neighbourhood’s friends, brothers, cousins, nephews, uncles, sons and grandsons. And they were about to bring the iconic Castle Cup home.
Ian Matondo, Ford Chitakatira, Patrick Chapoterera, Johnson Paradza, Nelson Bandura.
Adoring local fans had keenly witnessed all this homegrown talent rise from the rudimentary facilities of Sakubva’s Sports Oval, or Chisamba Ground, to national prominence.
Those that once played with or against these guys at school or on the streets, and perhaps used to rate themselves as the better players back in the day, now ungrudgingly recognised the Tanganda stars as their ambassadors and source of joy.
So there was unbelievable natural connection of souls, that fine December afternoon three decades ago, as Mutareans attentively listened to every in-field exploit of their local heroes away in the capital.
The rare calmness was wildly disturbed each time Tanganda scored, scores of people fanatically running onto the street in utter ecstasy, hugging and screaming with joy. The huge celebrations reverberated from one big section of sprawling Sakubva to another, separated by hilly landscape, and even from across the railway line in standalone Chikanga.
Then suddenly the crowd dispersed, with the kind of self-control humans voluntarily exercise in moments like this. Back to the radio, not wanting to miss any of the action.
A 2-2 draw after extra time sent the match into a penalty shootout, won 7-6 by Tanganda. You can imagine the scenes well into the night after the match! Unbelievable.
I write this after a conversation I recently had with a visiting cousin, a Mutare purebred.
He was young, but he remembers Tanganda’s crowning moment like it was yesterday. He however feels robbed, that his city hasn’t had a team they call their own since the days of Tanganda. Buffaloes and Highway were probably the last clubs to have that special place in the hearts of local folk. They were not like Tanganda, certainly not, but they had a good number of guys that people could relate to.
There has been teams over the years that have set base at Sakubva Stadium, and they must be commended for that. There are other clubs too in other parts of the country that play outside their areas. It decentralise the game.
My cousin doesn’t miss any match involving Manica Diamonds or Bikita Minerals in Mutare. “People just want to watch good football,” he says. “While of course we might support Manica Diamonds or Bikita as technically the home team, there is really no attachment, to be honest. If the visiting team knit good passes, we will applaud. We go to the ground for the fun. People want to be entertained.”
The key words for me there is “good football and entertainment”. In the absence of this, and no emotional attachment to teams, fans will continue to stay away.
