Mr Mathematical- by Iwedi Ojinmah

I saw him for the first time on a simmering afternoon in Owerri. It was one of those days when God had turned off the air-conditioning to save energy for some other project and simply let equatorial Africa stew in her own juices.

Though his name was not Chike Obi and though he held no fancy degree in Science, he was still arguably Nigeria's best known mathematician. It was at one of those inconsequential matches for the IICC Shooting Stars and the bored expressions on their faces showed it all. I mean..."Who the hell were these Spartans anyway?" One day all the boys from Ibadan had to fear east of the River Niger were armed robbers, mosquitoes the size of wasps and those pesky Rangers from Enugu. And the next day ? A new phalanx of teams created by the almost bizarre fragmentation of the country in the FGN's [1] ploy to "federalize" through "de-tribilalization". Like a Dorrito chip ferrying too much Salsa to ones mouth, the breakup was messy and the subsequent end result -- no matter how anticipated, still took some time getting used to. Simply put, we Igbos all went to bed on a Sunday night in the East Central State and on Monday morning either woke up in Anambra or Imo.

The venue for today's match was the dust bowl also known as the Owerri stadium. Used for anything from public executions, Antilogwu[2] festivals , the cities famous Catholic bazaars as well as various athletic meets and sport events; it also came complete with rusting zinc walls capable of generating instant tetanus and a sadistic security force dressed up as "Cowboys" quite capable of whipping their own Mothers if confronted. To crown this soap opera of imperfection, red dust race tracks circumventing the field blended in with the grass on the pitch causing blown calls and resulting in many a war between participant and spectator. The pot holes on the other hand, especially the ones in front of the Market side goal, and especially during the rain could have proved a worthy obstacle course for the Nigerian Army's new mechanized division.

When the overloaded IICC HIACE bus turned the corner from the Okigwe Road complete with cheeky talking drums and panting in obvious effort to commence her final spurt to the stadium, we local fans sprung our ambush and set upon the creaking vehicle like Lagos Island hawkers descending on a traffic jam to unload their wares. My semi sucked out orange delivered with the aim of a Masai warrior and the velocity of an "Ojukwu bottle"[3], exploded over the windscreen with a satisfying mush as other missiles including but not limited to, deactivated cell phones (bare corn cobs), mango pits and the occasional Fan Ice container (with unknown fillings) tattooed the vehicle with reckless abandon. Talk about a Spartan welcome! We would make them remember Owerri! Arriving 45 minutes late ! So what If they led the league in points ! How dare they? This may not be the Lions lair that Enugu was, but we could certainly make it a bee hive to remember! The justifications were as endless as was the folly and stupidity of youth.

If they were scared or fazed the Stars did not show it. Not once! They sat patiently through the "blitz", just as if this was part of their daily warm up regime as the Japanese steel withstood our savage bombardment. Finally the "Cowboy" watch dogs homed in on us and though they winked and smiled at our bravado , with a show of fake force and some well placed "bulala" [4] strokes the broke us up and the "best of the west" spilled out unto the cordoned off "visitors" warm up section. To their shock and our amusement they quickly moved on to the main pitch as soon as they found out that it had been "specially" prepared for them with a carpet of goat dropping pellets and more than one deposit of palm wine induced urine.

If I remember right I was in Class 2 then but it could have been 3, and the first thing that struck me and my "hooky" playing classmates and relatives was the chiseled frame of Segun Odegbami the Green Eagle Number 7 unfolding from the confines of the van.

Later on life at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena I would meet Maradona face to face and except for him, I am yet to see the size of laps that this winger sprouted (Well maybe on a young George Weah - but I have not seen him up close and "live" and we all know that sometimes photos can be misleading). With each graceful ballet like strut his muscles locked and unlocked. Just like huge bed spring coils they tweaked and sprung like a raging sea beneath his ebony skin. This was the real deal make no bones about it and we now asked each other nervously...." Who and what army was going to contain this "uebermensch" [5] -- tribal marks, metal studs and side burns inclusive ?"

Everything he did was with lackadaisical ease and reeked of total confidence. This guy had "Superstar" written all over him even then and knew it ! As we watched him juggle the ball for a cool 10 minutes using an assortment of body parts that would make a virgin blush, we looked over at our yellow and black clad Spartans and to our horror saw that they looked more like shell shocked Iraqis during "Desert Storm" rather than the Greek elite fighting force they claimed to be.I mean but who could seriously blame them? Out of the first 10 people who stepped out of the bus 1 looked like a Juju doctor while 4 played for Nigeria (2 of which would be later named to the African All-Star Squad) while the rest were all veterans of at least half a dozen Challenge Cups and a slew of other International competitions. This was going to be a long long day and the 3 Naira[6] investment for transportation from Umuahia to Owerri (as well as the 60 Kobo[6] gate fee), suddenly did not look that wise of an investment as Emeka my cousin pointed out .

He felt that we should have gone to see either the band "Funkees " play at Uniccoco Hotel or "Live and Let Die" then the new Bond film at Rex Cinema. What can I say? Currently a CEO with United Bank of Africa he was frugal even then!

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Rewind my mind as I may I am sorry to say that I can not tell you much about the Spartan team players. The memory banks just are not the same anymore and anyway this is really about Mr. Mathematical. In a nutshell though --- just as it was a team still bordering on kindergarten infancy it technically speaking was nothing more than a walking blue print for the soon to come Iwuanyanwu Nationale' and Enyimba teams. The splitting would continue. I do know though that it consisted of Imo born players from the Rangers and Vasco da Gama camps, the now defunct East Central State Accademical team (that had lost to Lagos State in that great 0:1 final), the Nigerian Breweries and as well as at least 1 Ghanaian who had at one time either played for " Ashanti Kotoko", or at least graced their bench. In addition to this the notorious bald headed "Pele" from Eziama High School know for his lethal " throw ins" and "in-swinging corner kicks" closed out the tip of the Spartan attack and I can say that if not all eggs vital to a Spartan victory lay in his basket ... most of them certainly did.

True to our fears the IICC attack commenced even as referee's whistle still pierced the humid afternoon. There were no commercials or coming attraction trailers as we went into the feature presentation right from the first "pim" [7]. Owolabi (Eagle Number 2) tested the cross bar within the first minutes -- much to the annoyance of the termites who now called it home, and the dismay of the local fans . These guys were good and were welcoming our lads to prime time and professional football. Emeka's face changed from hamarthan [8] to full thunder storm mode, as midfield dynamo Muda Lawal (RIP and Eagle Number 3) first took the whole yellow shirts from the left of the field to the right, and then vice versa causing such a traffic jam in the middle that it would make entry into Lagos Island on an even tag day look like a simple cake walk. I say this with all honesty I have never ever seen Muda perform at the international or local level as he did against the Rangers in their classic clash of the titans, but he came pretty close on that day in Owerri. But the day belonged to Segun ... morning, afternoon and night! Within minutes everybody had congregated to the right flank of the Stadium to watch this magician without a cape and future African All Star perform. Simply judging from the fact that all the Ice cream and Suya vendors moved whenever Nr.7 changed wings (regardless of the fact that they left the shadow of their stalls) --- there was no doubt who the spotlight was on ! Even Goal Keeper Best normally a crowd darling (Eagle Number 4) would get very little love from the popular section. At this point in my recollection it is hard to focus on things that he did not do since he did so much. Remember when Denlison came off the bench for Brazil in France 98 and fanned the ball 6 times while in motion and never loosing control? Remember when Abedi Pele zipped through the Elephant defense so fast that he left his shadow in his own half and had to go back to get it before celebrating his goal? Remember when Maradona showed the English that Argentinean Beef has as much to do with the mad cow gene as the Union Jack had to do waving over the Falklands and that the 2nd time around is really better?

All that all can be deemed subtle in comparison to the stunt that Mr.Mathematical first pulled out of his top hat. Like a bat out of hell he shot down the right flank, stopping on a kobo[6] , fanning the ball, performing a half round about to the right ... and then turning out of it ... only to complete a full one to the left! In other words 2 roundabouts in one move. I mean I have seen Jay Jay Okocha pull off a complete one against Khan (the current Bayern München and DFB Goalie) while playing for Eintracht Frankfurt in the Bundesliga but "les deux" [9]?

Mr. Mathematical...........