The Euros are not related to the economy

‘The Euros.’

For many a Kenyan, what comes to mind these days when they hear ‘euros’ is the Eurobond issue.

What happened to the money, and why can’t CS Henry Rotich give us a coherent breakdown the way he did with the budget on Wednesday afternoon, telling us citizens what went where?

But then there is the Euro Cup.

That continental football showpiece that lies, every four years, between the English Premier League seasons. This year, we watched a fairy tale as outsider underdogs, Leicester FC, went on a fairy tale run.

My own personal fairy tale with this tournament is that for the last 12 years, I have always caught it when overseas, and seeing as tonight is England versus Russia, and my birthday was just over a month ago, may I have permission to reminisce on the three nations we caught the last Euros at; let’s go on.

2004 Russia

I was in Saint Petersburg at the time of the Euros, and the favourite club to catch the games at was ‘The Office.’ The Russians then took ‘theme’ very seriously, which meant you had to dress in business suit, tie, proper shoes and even carry a briefcase to ‘The Office,’ or they would not let you in.

One white night after Russia won a game, we ripped a country flag ( I think of Croatia or Netherlands) off The Office wall, and went to tie it at the top of a lamp post in Sixth Kazansky street, which I was forced to scale by my new soccer comrades, as they poured vodka libation all over.

2012 Lisbon

We used to go to parks all over the capital city of Lisboa in the June of 2012, either in the company of the comely Constance Bachelor or my boy from Iceland, Marco Vincenzo, to watch Euro ball. I remember one time after watching the Euros in one of the parks being propositioned by a couple of homosexuals (or should I say a gay couple to be politically proper) with an offer to go ‘catch the next game’ at their hotel. ‘You’ve got balls!’ I told them; and they laughed and went away.

2008 Austria

But it is in this year, and thanks to the suggestion by an old friend Patricia Mbatia to DStv’s Stephen Isaboke (and facilitated by one Stella ‘Lemonade’ Ondimu) that I went to Vienna. And actually ended up in a stadium watching Spain take on Italy.

At the time, I was very anti-Fernando Torres (because he was in’going to Liverpool FC) and I think he downed the Azzuri one/nil. But the point of it all was this –

 I had my one point five seconds of worldwide fame on TV as my black face flashed on the big screen ... and just as I prepared to turn my shocked grin into a scream (so that my buddies like Nasri at then football club ‘Hooters’ in the CBD may ‘know people’) the moment was forever gone.

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