Not A Football Fanatic

After a long day’s work, many unwind with a cold beer, movies or God knows what else. For me, there’s nothing more relaxing than a boiling hot cup of soup, spiked with the right amount of pilipili. That and Mutura. There’s this butchery in my neighborhood that understands my pallet so well, they always get my cup right, two peppers; and an extra slice of the ever so enticing ‘African sausage’. This is not about my poor but fun dietary habits. It’s about the discussions that men-and women- have while sipping the very hot cup of supu.

Today, the discussion was the weekend soccer matches. Now I’m not a football fan, but I pride myself in knowing a little about everything. It was no fun listening to football insults being hurled back and forth, but I did pick up a few terminologies here and there ‘Box-to-box payer’ was one of the most repeated ones, I still don’t know what it means, but… no, no buts.

All this while I had been racking my brain trying to figure out how betting companies make money. It’s been hitting my face and I was too blind to see! Day in day out people spend millions of hard earned money betting on teams they support (key word, support).

Is it that people don’t see statistics of previous performances during a given season? Is it that people are too oblivious of facts they have easy access to? Could the betting companies be using juju to compel people? Or is it the ever so clear arrogance of Kenyans?-and people around the world generally.

The answer is very simple, it’s the same reason why people selling women’s clothing get a killing off it; they appeal to the emotion.

Emotion! That simple thing that men too many claim not to have. The betting teams know that your love for your team is undying. That even after seeing all the statistics, all the prior outcomes, you still show your unwavering support towards them hoping against all hope that your team will win.

That is actually very clever; you should see the men here arguing what Chelsea did wrong, where Man-U lost it and so on. I laugh at the conviction carried by these men that they are right. This one of those areas that no man is willing to concede, it’s a battle of the titans fought by spectators. Sometimes it’s funny, other times witty but often so offensive. I will support Sofapaka till the very end, but when money comes in; the end is a stone throw away.

Oh Shoot! My soup’s getting cold…

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