Changing of the guard at township tournaments

Township tournaments over Christmas have always been known as exhibitions of dribbling wizardry.

Tsamayas, show-me-your-numbers and shibobos beam down on sunbaked spectators all day at the Godfrey Moloi Goodwill Games, the Pollen Ndlanya Festive Games, the Ekurhuleni Goodwill Games and the Vosloo Diski Nine 9 among others.

And there's just as much action off the pitch - from meat-head team managers wearing nauseating lime shirts and mixing expensive whisky with Sprite to skimpily-clad young things advertising their assets.

Forget knowledge. The beautiful young things' interest in the game is as limited as a T20 cricket match, their only aim being to hook one of the fish that emerge from snazzy German sedans, clutching the ornate boxes that denote expensive cognac and whisky.

The fish, their tight Affliction shirts unable to keep their beer bellies from tumbling over the waistbands of their fake Dolce & Gabbana and Versace (may his soul rest in peace) jeans, strut as if they own the place, though many don't know the difference between half and extra time.

The tournaments have become theatres larger than the chisanyamas and chill posies frequented by township show-offs.

Space is a luxury. This is the only place you'll find a Jehovah's witness sitting with a gangster, a street kid sharing space with a township coconut.

On the pitch, there's also a mix - PSL fringe players, has- beens, recovering alcoholics, chance takers, fatties, up-and-coming youngsters and crocks.

The smell of steak and wors from the many braai stands is almost enough to convert even the most ardent Rastafarian from hardcore vegetarianism.

Meat and booze might go together like a thumb and the remote control, but can you imagine the toyi-toying in your stomach after a three-course gourmet meal of gizzard kebabs, chicken feet and boiled eggs?

Sadly, the pimply, under-aged teenagers guzzling brightly coloured alcohol are a eyesore; their rowdy behaviour a disappointment for the older supporters. Mampoer, just about the only bottled alcohol not on offer, would at least have scorched the pimples off the cheeks of many a teenager.

Against all odds, the supporters and sponsors have done well to keep the tournaments alive - especially in the light of many PSL clubs having barred their players from participating.

In the past, former Kaizer Chiefs star Thabo "Tsiki-Tsiki" Mooki and Steve Lekoelela dazzled fans in Soweto. The late Emmanuel "Scara" Ngobese was christened "Black Jesus" at a tournament in Daveyton, while Maimane Phiri's educated left foot disrespected his markers at the Philly's Games in Alexandra and Tembisa. Fans flocked to the dusty grounds to see their heroes in the flesh - mostly for the first time.

But now, the stars are only spectators. Clubs such as Chiefs, Orlando Pirates, Mamelodi Sundowns and Moroka Swallows heavily fine players who risk injury by participating.

Commercialisation of the game and the evolution of football has affected everyone.

The tournaments still offer entertainment galore, but the prize money has brought with it a more cautious and rigid brand of soccer. With the flair that distinguishes true class taking a back seat, the tournaments are no longer the happy hunting grounds they once were for professional soccer's talent scouts.

• The BEE's from Tembisa beat Jerry Sikhosana's Zamalek to win R110000 while AC Milan (Benoni Premier United) won the tournament in Daveyton. Vine Real Hearts FC beat Phiri FC 2-0 in the final of the Godfrey Moloi Games.