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THE JUGGLER: Demystifying the psyche of these football player-loving women

In honor of the circuit girls who poured their heart felt insults about the article posted on The Juggler last week, I seek to expiate myself by clarifying a few things.

In case you missed it, the article was a masterpiece exposing how stadium ladies, aka circuit girls, go into the stadium with the sole aim of landing football boyfriends.

As expected the article generated varied views and enough threats were dropped in my inbox mostly from some well-known CGs who felt that I had blown their cover by telling the truth.

Most of these contained words like “stupid girl” and “attention seeking pig”, and two crazy ones even summoned enough courage to send in a death threat. Those two messages were my favorite.

It is one long post from a self-confessed CG that however caught my attention. She elevated the contest further in poor spelling by stating that I was so naïve in thinking that all ladies go into the stadium in search for athlete boyfriends.

And to qualify her statement, she penned off by saying that only Victor Wanyama fits her standard!

For a moment there I was ashamed at the great omission I had committed before submitting that copy. I bowed down at the realization that in my attempt to paint the real picture, I had succumbed to ambiguity and so for expiation’s’ sake and in the hope that I annoy both sides of the Atlantic, I beg to clarify.

When I talked about footballers being the hot catch for the cling-ons who masquerade as football fans, I wasn’t referring to those poor naïve lasses who only visit Nairobi twice a year, for strictly two days, smelling of village earth, travelling on the back of the team bus, an away match being the sole reason for their visit.

FAME AND INCOME

When I got off on a rant about how these girls swarm outside the stadium changing rooms after matches scavenging for opportunity, my subjects were not the shallow footballers who dropped out in primary school and who cannot sustain a 20-minute conversation without throwing in the vernacular.

Surely, I wasn’t referring to the semi-literate flibbertigibbets who need help writing their names, leave alone understanding the clause details of their contracts.

Kenyan footballers can be put into several categories, and I was talking about the royal brand of footballers.

One can only “live excess of his income and fame” if the footballer in question has fame and income to begin with. Surely those aspiring soccer stars with colored teeth and bad English who earn a measly Sh15, 000 monthly salary do not qualify a tad in here.

I was talking about the class of KPL players who have taken a cleansing bath in city air. If he doesn’t drive, he doesn’t qualify. It doesn’t matter if they can only afford fuel on match days. He makes the cut provided he can be seen behind the wheel at the end of a match.

This stock of footballers include for whom the media reserves the titles such as “Kenya international”, “Foreign based”, “prolific striker”, “dead ball specialist” etc.

People who can talk about the low prices of beer in Zambia, or the high levels of prostitution in Pretoria, or the poverty levels in Finland, or even something unique about neighboring Tanzania – places they have been to. Whether they were successful during their stint there or not is sheer detail.

If a player is unknown to an average Kenyan then he is no target for a CG. He doesn’t get a spot in the CG’s team if his face has never featured in any of our local dailies, and he is definitely not attractive enough if he is not bold enough to spot a crazy hairstyle to cover for his overly small, oblong face.

GOOD LIFE

The stakes rise if the player is a lover of “the good life”. If he drinks or chews those green things, it means he is a bad boy, and we all know how much bad boys excite shallow women. If he smokes hard stuff and attracts controversy like a magnet, he is a CG’s ideal man.

Shameless as they are, there are things that actually dampen the spirits of a CG. They don’t quit the chase for irrelevant reasons such as if the player has a child. But if we are talking about three children then he drops down the pecking order. He is a spent force, a tasteless character for a CG.

Having a wife is neither reason nor motivation for these girls. Love is so last season for these shameless girls, so much that they don’t even except to be “number one”.

A CG doesn’t panic when her target experiences an irredeemable dip in form, or a career threatening injury.

If his name remains popular in football circles then he maintains his status quo. In any case, no play time means the CG can get the chance to walk around the stadium with his catch and show off her achievements to fellow CGs.

In Kenya, Victor Wanyama definitely tops the CG’s chain for obvious reasons. He is no doubt the most accomplished footballer in the history of the country and the fact that a night burglary in his home made news worldwide makes him the envy of any girl.

But then we must also acknowledge that he lives miles away from home, meaning that he belongs to the future and not for immediate consideration.

In the end what these shallow women of the stadia put a premium on is popularity and a sustainable wad of cash. The latter is not a mandatory prerequisite.