Looking back

It seemed so long ago since I haven’t been to Calabash Alley. As I stood outside the rum shop, I saw Miss Rose sitting on the steps of her wooden house picking rice from an enamel plate. In front of her little modest home, there used to be a pretty garden with yellow buttercup flowers.

After greeting her, I asked what on earth had happened to the beautiful buttercup. She belted out, “The world cup cause that. The fellas go in the rum shop to look at the match and afterwards is me to catch. Is a set of cussing and fighting all through the Alley and they trample all my plants and them.”

“But why they have to fight?” I asked. The words were no sooner out of my mouth but whom should I see coming from the rumshop but Papa George. As usual, he greeted me with a great big slap on my back. “I hear you din go to Germany. How come a man like you miss out on this once in a life time thing?” he asked. I laughed and replied, “Me! Where I go get all that money from?”

“You coulda borrow it from the bank like Mr Sanders in Bowseeback Alley. Now he working night and day and even on Sundays. He taking trust here, there and everywhere. Sanders go have to pay back the bank until he dead.”

“But Papa George, why them fellas have to mash up Miss Rose garden so?” I enquired.

“In the rum shop, when a match going on, plenty betting does take place. A man would just shout out, “Ten dollars, Brazil score before half time!” And anybody could take him up on that. Then they give the stakes to a casa to hold. They drinking they rum, they losing they money, and they getting vex. When they start to cuss and fight, Battleaxe Bruno, the chuck-outter does pelt they tail outside. Then they fight all along the Alley, even in Miss Rose garden.”

“They go have to help me fix back the place though,” she chimed in. “Big big man so can’t stand they losses.”

Papa George and I walked along the Alley, talking about the football matches. He continued, “You ent see how Crouch cling up on Sancho, pulling he hair, and he Crouch done so tall and lingay, was able to reach bout 20 feet in the air and head the corner kick from Beckham straight in the goal.”

“A fella in the rumshop, stink a rum, say, ‘It good! Who tell he to go in World Cup looking like Daddy Booshoo going to catch crab in the mangrove!

“Next thing, Sancho go and score goal against we for Paraguay with a header. You ent see the man have blight on him. He need a bush bath.’ When I tell you, is real rum talk,” Papa George laughed.

“So, Papa George, tell me honestly. No mamagism. How you find we boys really play in Germany?” I asked him.

“They play good. When you can’t beat a team, is to play for a draw. And that is what we do.

It was only bout the last 20 minutes in the second half against Paraguay, that them fellas started to play, the kind of football I like to see — attacking football as if you going all out to score, a real do or die effort.”

“Long time, they use to have five fellas in the forward line to score goals. The main man was called the centre forward, then inner right and inner left and then right wing and left wing. Now, we have one man to score — Stern John.” “Next thing, we used to have two defenders — right and left backs. Now is four and five defenders. And when match in blood, like the whole side defending. But what about you? What team you was backing?”, Papa George asked.

“Well, like everybody else, I was backing our team, hoping that we might sneak into the second round but my side is Brazil. I always say, any team that could beat Brazil, should win the World Cup but France lose to Italy.” “It good for them. Look how Zidane gone and butt the Italian on his heart. But you know, Danny King was backing Argentina.

“He gone and bet a set a money on them to beat Germany who gee them 4-2 in they skin in penalty shootouts. He was crying under the Calabash tree. I pass by him, singing, Don’t cry for me, Argentina. He get vex and fire a kick at me but I get way in time. Haha.”

Coming from the barrack yard, was Miss Mabel Moses, dress up for so. As usual, she hugged and kissed me and leave lipstick on my cheek. As I was going to rub it off, she said, “Don’t rub it off. Leave it there. Let your wife see it. Let she get jealous. It good to make them jealous sometimes.” I had to laugh.

“So Mabel, dear heart. How you like this whole World Cup thing?” I asked her. “Me ent want to hear nutten bout World Cup. It does bring back sad memories. My man, Iron Man sitting in the front room looking at the match in Rotten Burger, shouting “Goal, goal, goal!” While he doing that, a thief come through the back door and thief my gold chain, gold ring and gold watch!”