If you happened not to read interview, the second part of which is in the current edition (see page 24), you missed out, but let me take care to come to your rescue: First and foremost, the background to the story is that Bidvest Wits have been sold to the highest bidder (nay, Masala Mulaudzi), with the deal having received the PSL's rubberstamp of approval. What's more, the club will be known as Tshakhuma Tsha Madzivhandila FC and begin life as a Limpopo side next season. That most of Wits' players will not be kept is now a well-known fact, thanks to CEO Sello Chokoe, who has been shouting it from the rooftops. Apparently, these players are a tad too expensive for the topflight newbies' liking and unfortunately the Rand is too low these days, eish. As if that's not enough, the famed Clever Boys' academy that has produced the likes of Sibusiso Vilakazi, Sifiso Myeni and Patrick Phungwayo, among others, will cease to exist, placing a lot of youngsters who had big dreams in football at a crossroads. In addition, the current staff members will have to make way for the incoming lot. And, right there, the aforementioned sadness and heartache that is at the heart of Mr George Mogotsi's story is given birth.
Here is someone who served Bidvest Wits with honour, passion and a sense of loyalty from their days as Wits University. In his interview, Bra George recalls the day he was summoned into a meeting, together with coach Gavin Hunt and veteran administrator Jonathan Schloss, to be told of the club's sale. How it must have felt like a kick in the teeth! As we have come to learn, starting out as cashier at the Braamfontein-based outfit, to being gatekeeper, to eventually making his way into management as a director is testament to this man's loyalty to the brand, and one imagines nothing could have prepared him for the news. On reflection, all those years sacrificing family time all for the cause of a club so dear to his heart would have been in vain come the end of this season. He will sadly have to retreat home and think of his next step in these hard times, not knowing what the future holds. As he pointed out, when you have worked for so long for an institution, you want to end off in proper fashion, and to receive due recognition for selfless and loyal service, but sadly and tragically, it does not seem like a proper farewell will be bestowed on him, only a swift push towards the exit door.
Often when transactions of this nature occur, letters' pages of newspapers are filled with words of rebuke on how the rights of players and emotions of fans are given little regard, but no consideration is ever given to the people who know the sold club inside out and help to keep the fires burning behind the scenes – the backroom staff. Yet they toil just as hard, if not harder, driven by passion and love for what they do. I'm talking about the kit manager who has to deal with the emotions of players in the change room after a loss, who tend to throw tantrums and jerseys around, leaving it to the poor kitman to pick up the pieces, so to speak. The team manager whose duty is to ensure that the team secures the best possible accommodation for an away game. The team driver entrusted with picking up the players and driving them to games and training. Today, I honour such individuals. To think that the man who discovered Vilakazi, now a superstar at Mamelodi Sundowns, is kit manager Jack Ndlovu, is unbelievable – yet the selfsame Ndlovu stands to be jobless in a few months and will probably never be heard of in football after that. Talking of a kit manager, I am reminded of the legendary but unassuming yet wise old head Albert Hendricks at Ajax Cape Town. "Uncle A", as he is affectionately known, has seen it all with the club.
Of course, there are more such individuals at the different clubs and they have become synonymous with certain clubs because of the number of years spent at such clubs, and my humble opinion is that they do not always get the credit they deserve and are only mentioned in passing, such as when they are let go or pass on. It does not always have to be so.
You have a Freddy Zungu that is not one of the popular names at Mamelodi Sundowns, yet this is a man who has been working as an employee of the club for three decades now. Seeing to it that the players are neatly kitted out on match day is his niche, and the meticulous precision with which he does it is as admirable as watching Gaston Sirino twisting and turning in the middle of the park. This is a man who is at training before most players arrive, preparing their regalia, but with the Tshwane giants having clinched a lot of trophies in recent years, and even the Holy Grail that is the CAF Champions League in 2016, not many count him among the heroes in Chloorkop. Not that there is anything wrong with that because men like him are only doing what they are paid to do, but my plea is that they should be given a little bit more recognition for their diligence. There's Qedi Dlamini, team manager at AmaZulu FC, for example. According to the club's official website, "He worked for the South African Police Services for many years while still moonlighting as a loyal Usuthu supporter in the 80s. He joined AmaZulu as head of security later on…" There's just too many of these unsung heroes and heroines to mention, like Nonceba Madlala at Golden Arrows, the now retired Barney Kujane, who worked as team manager for our various national teams over many years and even had fistfights with soldiers in some African countries while travelling with Bafana Bafana, so-called 'juju man' Junior Molefe at Moroka Swallows, Pule Sithebe, who joined Orlando Pirates as a player back in 1998, but couldn't crack it and was then offered the kit manager job and has since then become part of the furniture at the Soweto giants.
To George Mogotsi Co., today I salute you.
Lunga
