Success for some sultans of soccer, squalour for others

There I was, in the midst of football royalty, at Safa House. Here's a disclaimer: By football royalty I don't mean the mandarins and the apparatchiks who meander along the corridors pretending to be serious in their silky suits. End of disclaimer.

I mean the real legends and the masters who plied their trade with the pigskin during the dark days of apartheid.

I mean the real McCoys, the genuine articles, if you like, the golden generation of yesteryear, the greats robbed by apartheid from showing their greatness and genius to the globe.

Think Simon "The Bull" Lehoko, Jacob "Bhudda" Mathathe, Vusi "Computer" Lamola, Nkosi "Let Them Dance" Molala, Irvin "Pepe" Dire, Ephraim "Shakes" Mashaba ...

Among the names instantly recognisable to the born-free generation were Philemon "Chippa" Masinga and Johnny "Black Sunday" Masegela.

All were there to mark the official coming together of various masters and legends bodies to form the South African Masters and Legends Football Association.

A black-and-white video clip left many in the room enveloped in emotion. It beamed, in black-and-white - no HD or 3D - Argentina against South Africa in 1978.

Showing an uncanny accuracy, Jomo Sono struck an awesome foursome and Ace Ntsoelengoe contributed a sweet solitary strike as the South African tricksters toyed with the South American tokoloshes as if the latter were in a trance.

Yebo Mandela generation, SA beat Argentina right here in our backyard. Google it.

One observation that stuck out like a sore thumb at Safa House was that there was not a single white or Indian player in sight on such a historic occasion. Indian players may be an extinct species nowadays, but they were there in throngs in bygone years. Goona Padayachee for Moroka Swallows. Kaizer Chiefs had Jingles Perreira. Andy "Jesus" Karajisky and Keith "Mthakathi" Broad added a shade of pale at Orlando Pirates. Where were they on Wednesday, asked Masegela. They were invited, responded Irvin "Pepe" Dire.

Why they chose not to come is the subject for another column. It was at this point that my mind detoured to a discomforting fact.

We have a column called Where Are They Now? where we catch up with the stars of yesteryear.

It is one of the heartbreaking assignments one has to execute. Why? Because before we are journalists, before we are soccer stars, we are human beings.

Almost without fail, one discovers that the white and Indian players live in relative comfort after their playing days.

Perreira runs a toilet paper manufacturing factory, eGoli, with 80 employees.

Also in downtown Jozi, Padayachee employs over 50 workers in his business.

The picture is bleaker for their black counterparts.

Frankly, some are a sorry sight, charity cases ashamed to welcome you to their abodes. A few I've visited live in squalor in squatter camps.

They will ask you for something small, just to buy a packet of ciggies or a couple of cold ones.

Some are serving time for murdering someone who owed them R100.

I hope among the many roles legends and masters have cast for themselves, they will put aside some time to share their stories of success and failure.

Stories that will inspire the current generation to aspire to become like Sono and Kaizer Motaung, who went on to create successful empires.

We want more football royalty and less or no football paupers.

Follow BBK on Twitter @bbkunplugged99