This noble profession, which gives you the pleasure of being close to some of these larger-than-life characters, can also be cruel at times. In the process of bringing them closer to the public, you end up getting so much acquainted to them that not only do their daily activities become your business, but you also develop friendship with them and later, they become part of your extended family. So, it deeply hurts when you lose them, especially in such brutal circumstances.
When my grieving mind gradually sobered, I welcomed the privilege I have had – of being close to this football hero, who scored at least 34 goals for the national team, including some beauties during Reinhard Fabisch’s “Dream Team” era of the 1990s.
We have lost many of those talented yesteryear players. Melusi Nkiwane, Francis Shonhai and one probably closest to Adam – Benjamin Nkonjera. But none of those met a death as cruel as that of Adamski.
While his exploits on the pitch need no over-emphasis, it is the gentleman side of this great Warrior that remained unknown to those who were not close enough to him. I count myself lucky to be one of those who shared some of his happy days.
The first time I established personal contact with Adam Ndlovu was in 2001, during his brief football sabbatical, following the lapse of his contract with Switzerland’s SC Kriens. He had been invited as a Guest of Honour in a ZRP Support Unit soccer tournament – the Badger’s Trophy inside Bulawayo’s Fairbridge Police Camp. I had gone to cover the same tournament and a close friend and former workmate, Busani Malinga, son of Bulawayo’s first executive Mayor, Joshua, introduced us.
That was the beginning of an acquaintance that grew stronger by the day, crossed borders to South Africa and survived the distance when Ndlovu returned to Zimbabwe a few years ago. In those days, which included regular meets during Highlanders’ home games at Barbourfields Stadium’s VIP stand, where Ndlovu would freely mingle with us journalists in a crew that included Lovemore Dube, Wellington Toni and Sikhumbuzo Moyo, I got to know more about the gentleman that he was.
Within a few months of that friendship, Ndlovu, already a hero, returned to the Highlanders fold, where he made a deadly combination with former Caps United and Dynamos forward, Stewart “Shutto” Murisa under Eddie May.
I continued to sample from Ndlovu’s life on and off the pitch. While most Zimbabweans would remember him for the “gun” celebration in which he “shot down” his team-mates after he scored a goal against Mauritania, I still remember his celebration in a 1-1 draw with Caps United at Barbourfields. After scoring the opener in that game, Ndlovu ran to the corner flag, planted his head and took his backside up, as the crowd went spellbound. He later told me that he did not rehearse the celebrations, but reacted spontaneously to the flow of the game and the mood on the stands.
As days went by, I later met his other family members, who included his other elder brothers, Martin, with whom we would go fishing at the Hillside Dams, Marko, who coached the ZRP Rose Camp’s Division Two team and the police’s Bulawayo Province and their ginger-haired nephew we called Zongo.
With his achievement on the pitch and later on the bench with Chicken Inn, Ndlovu was larger than the game, yet off the pitch, he was a gentleman who belied his fame and mingled with everyone alike.
Post published in: Football