A Greek sage once said:

I have never seen three men more unfortunate:

A man who wears old clothes while owning new ones;

A man who loses hope in life while he still has many years ahead of him;

A man who abandons Barça to support Real Madrid.

These words are not mine. They were written by a high school student after I asked my class to write a short text in Word using as many formatting features as possible.

When I read it, I burst out laughing. He asked me:

— It’s obvious you’re a Barça supporter, teacher, right?

I replied:

— Yes.

In reality, I support neither Real Madrid nor Barcelona. I simply lied to win his sympathy because he was a notorious troublemaker, extremely undisciplined, and my usual remarks such as “bodies of mules and minds of sparrows” had never worked on him.

I am neither a Real Madrid fan nor a Barça fan. In fact, I am hardly a sportsman at all, except when it comes to my favorite activity: taking naps. Sports are not really my thing, apart from watching matches involving Ahfir, Morocco, or Algeria.

As for Ahfir matches, several memorable scenes remain etched in my memory:

At the beginning of the 1970s, Ahfir played a promotion playoff in Oujda. The match ended in chaos and was replayed a week later. The second game ended the same way and was replayed once again. During the third attempt, with only five minutes remaining, the referee awarded a penalty against Ahfir. That was the end of the match because all three referees ended up being taken to Al Farabi Hospital.

In the mid-1980s, during the final match of the season in Ahfir against Jerada, the referee blew the final whistle after a 4-0 defeat for Ahfir. The Ahfir players hugged one another in celebration because Jerada had promised them a million for each goal conceded.

In the 1990s, Ahfir’s final match of the season was against Fez. Everyone knew that a defeat meant certain relegation, a victory guaranteed survival, while a draw required waiting for other results. Three minutes before the end, Ahfir won a corner kick. Every player, including the goalkeeper, rushed forward into the opposing penalty area. After the corner was cleared, a Fez player ran alone toward the empty goal. At that moment, a spectator entered the field, lifted the player onto his shoulders, and carried him off the pitch. The next morning, newspapers reportedly ran the headline: “A Fool Saves His Team from Relegation.”

Five years ago, Ahfir faced Taourirt. Taourirt needed a victory for promotion; otherwise, Jerada would go up instead. The match was fascinating because everyone knew that half of Ahfir’s players had been paid by Jerada to win, while the other half had been paid by Taourirt to lose. Ahfir eventually lost 3-1.

During another match, an Ahfir player attempted a bicycle kick. He landed on his back and was knocked unconscious. After receiving treatment, the coach asked him: “Tell me honestly, Amrou, when exactly did we ever discuss trying that move?”

Returning to my troublesome student, one day he saw me carrying a modem and said:

— Teacher, give me that modem for a moment so I can have some fun.

I replied:

— It isn’t even charged.

— Don’t worry about that, just let me try.

I handed him the 3G modem. A few moments later, he showed me the goal that had eliminated Real Madrid.

— How did you do that? The modem isn’t charged!

— There are tricks you don’t know about, teacher.

(Thankfully, he didn’t add that my mind was that of a sparrow.)

The conversation continued. He told me he was a businessman and had no use for French.

I replied:

— Even if you were a businessman and completely broke, you would still need it. Suppose you travel to France. Would you ask for “a beer” or “an beer”?

He answered:

— I don’t have any problem with that because I always ask for…

beers!

 

By Jelloul – 2010