On to Part 2! Your story in last week's edition, about how you went out of your way to get to know what some of your then teammates at Bush Bucks were earning, was incredible and quite eye-opening. Funny too!
Ha, ha, ha! Well, I never told them how I managed to get such information. Someone would tell me that I was getting paid more than him, for example, and I would tell that person, "Uyaxoka (You're lying), you are getting paid suchand- such an amount." What they used to do was that when you arrived at the club, they would tell you that you were earning more than the other players but that you should keep that information to yourself. That's the psychology that they used on us. But I was never one to take their word for it – as they say, seeing is believing. To my shock, I discovered that all this talk that 'so-and-so is earning better than so-and-so' was just lies, the actual people who were big earners here were so-and-so. Whenever I went into negotiations, I would tell them, "I have no problem with Mugeyi (twins William and Wilfred) or (John) Maduka or Brendan Augustine earning a lot of money, but khawundinike le yam (just give me what's due to me). I'm competing with-so-and-so and he is in the stands, but I don't have a problem with him. Just give me what's due to me so that I can be fully satisfied. I want to be in a position where I don't point fingers at you after I retire. Mandizityele imali yam intsangu okanye namankazana okanye etywaleni (Let me spend my money on dagga or women or on alcohol). It would be better if I blame myself for the wrong decisions I took with my money rather than being given so little."
Hmmm…
I would also say to them, "If the correct information does not correspond with what I'm telling you, then come and bring the books here. Come with his payslip and put it here, and I will come with mine. If what I'm telling you is lies, then by all means, cut half of my salary. We can even go to a lawyer and sign off on that." No one would come out with information contrary to what I was saying. That's when I would stay away from training and thereafter go and get my salary at the end of the month. They would end up giving me an increase, while also asking me not to say a word about it to the others. I would tell them, "Of course, I won't tell them because I suggested to them that we as the local guys should go and toyi-toyi and they refused. I then went on a one-man toyi-toyi." So, that's how I used to get a salary increase.
That was such a brave fight you put up.
Ewe (Yes)! Ewe! And ndadikwa yilonto ebholeni (that's what frustrated me in football). Why did I always have to fight? If they could short-change me here at home, where I was born, how much more in Cape Town, for example? But when you got to Cape Town, you had to persevere because kaloku (remember) you are away, even though your experience should be counting in your favour. That's really what frustrated me about football because you'd go outside of your home province and still have to face these battles. You were fighting about Coloureds who were being done favours. You would see someone playing ahead of you and you had to fight. You would go to Bloemfontein and find players speaking Sotho with their coach, Styles Phumo. You have to go the extra mile in trying to prove yourself and eventually the coach sees the talent and decides, "Let me play this Xhosa guy, he deserves it." So, you had to work extra, while they didn't have to – that's the life you had to live in football, which is why I decided to quit. Even in Nelspruit, at my last club (Dangerous Darkies), the people there were fighting for their kids who were sitting in the stands. They were saying, "This team was bought for our kids. Now they bring big names." Remember Dumisa Ngobe was there, the late Dennis Lota, Siyabonga Nkosi, Bruce Ramokgadi… we were all there. So now were you going to fight the locals who had a team bought for them and their kids? When you drew a game, you would be sworn at. That's when I terminated my contract.
So, you had to have a thick skin as a player in those days because some club bosses could take chances, is that what you're saying?
That's true. Ingqina (For instance), my eldest son doesn't have the same character as me. Uzilungele ke yena (He is modest). He's 34 now and was and still is very good in football, and I told him he was never going to make it because he would agree to everything. In football, there are fights and something small can just take your focus away from the game, not realising that that small thing was said or done intentionally to make you lose sight of whatever you are fighting for. When someone is abusing me, that's when they are giving me wings, but you are the opposite. Quit this thing, boy, and go to school." He was in tears when he got his degree, saying I had helped him so much.
Go on…
For example, I earned R2 500 when I first arrived at Bush Bucks. I told myself that once I was more established and had made a name for myself the following year, I would embark on a toyi-toyi because I was not satisfied that that was what I was worth. Indeed, I went on a stayaway the following year and then they doubled my salary. To show that I was being shortchanged, why did they double it when I asked for an increase? Still, I wasn't getting what I was worth and, again, I fought for another increase. Before I knew it, I was earning more than most of the players I had found there. I was in my second year and most were in their fifth year, but I was earning more because they were quiet. By the time I left, I think I was on R8 000. When I did my comparisons later on, I found out that some of the players from Kaizer Chiefs and Orlando Pirates were earning somewhere between R3 000 and R5 000 at that time. These were big names, mind you. Kudala abantu baqhathwa (People have been shortchanged for a long time), but they were happy because they were playing for Pirates. They were getting less than us, ha, ha, ha. For example, you see that guy called Lungisani Ndlela?
Yes, the tall guy. Very good header of the ball. What about him?
I had already quit football when he complained about his R5 000 salary at Moroka Swallows. I think this was a good five years after I had retired. He was earning R5 000 and when I quit, I was on R8 000. Well, I was, in fact, on R16 000 at Dangerous Darkies as the reason I went there is because they said they would double whatever I was getting at Bush Bucks. The club was campaigning in the NFD (National First Division, now called the Motsepe Foundation Championship) in those days. They said, "The money that you are earning in the PSL, come and earn it here in the NFD." But when you are not happy, you are even willing to give up that R16 000, and everyone knew that once I became unhappy, andinxibi neso skipa (I don't even wear that jersey). Because I don't want to go and pretend in front of people and supporters as they'll only see what I'm doing on the field and conclude that I was failing, not knowing how hurt I was inside. So, I would only wear the jersey when I was in a state of happiness, so that I could give the best performance. There were times I wouldn't train the whole month and then in the second month, they would fetch me to go to a match. I would perform better than those who were there because I know how to behave – I don't drink, I've never smoked. Even if I don't go to your training, I do my own training.
By Lunga Adam
STILL IN TOUCH FUN FACTS
First paycheque: R2 500
Biggest bonus: R4 000
Opponent I respected the most: Neil Tovey
Team I'd have loved to play for: Kaizer Chiefs Orlando Pirates
Favourite PSL player right now:
Zakhele Lepasa, Relebohile Mofokeng Ashley Du Preez
Best coach I played under: Trott Moloto
Craziest request from a fan: None
