English Premier League. A Frenchman. A hat trick.
Arsenal. Giroud. The Emirates. An electrifying atmosphere.
The football gods gave us perfect weather in what would be the season finale, a home game for Arsenal at the Emirates Stadium. Arsène Wenger took no chances as he turned out his stars in full force. Ozil, Alexis, Gabriel and one delivered in spectacular form. Giroud.
The euphoric moment was not lost on my father who was perched high above the goal at the Emirates Stadium. The Clock End.
James Wini often recalls when he played football although now he has a nickname that sounds more like a famous martial artist. He admitted that he never made it big but his passion has always been the game. He cheered for Brazil at every World Cup, an admirer of the Joga Bonito. As early as I can remember, we often take the shortcut through the Kola Ridge cemetery for Saturday night games at Lawson Tama. A family tradition that continued until the late 1980’s. By then the stadium lights started dying and interestingly my father’s interest in local football also waned.
So the Emirates Stadium experience is a stark contrast to Lawson Tama and it came as a huge shock to him because we had kept it a secret from him. When he made the trip to London from my brother-in-law James Renwick’s house, it was under the pretext that he was going to have his picture taken with the famous London black cabs. So it was understandable that he came undone and was overcome with a mixture of emotions as soon as he stepped into the stadium. The Emirates Stadium is magnificent with its unique design giving those perched high up very close up view of the game.
One of the early founders of DMP Football Club, my father enjoyed success as a club manager and the finest footballer of note was Samson Gamasi, a defender with a wicked right foot who held his own in the era of Charles Ashley, Matai Vave, George Tema, Holis Vato, Robertson Natei and George Kiriau. Samson’s brothers George and Wilson also enjoyed moderate success at the national level. Of course, my father takes no credit for the boys break into the national team as they made it when he had taken a lesser role in the club. But he is always proud that DMP FC gave them their break.
Several other notable national players have gone through the ranks at the club. Peter Moutoa, a goalkeeper, enjoyed success at the U23 and at the national level after Joseph Batai retired. In the early 2000, a dread-locked midfielder Damari and Silvester Rogi from Isabel also played for the national team.
The stylish midfielder Fred Sikini, his brother Akwasia and a tall lanky “Peter Crouch type” striker Mckenzie Saeni played for Honiara Select at the Solomon Cup.
Now languishing in the HFA Division 2, DMP FC is a club with a proud history. In it’s heydays it was rivals with Sunbeam and routinely beat Uncles, Rangers and Las United in one of its best run’s in the country’s top league.
Unlike other clubs, DMP FC only recruited from “tolo” the boys from the bush region in the Lau/Mbaelelea constituency of Malaita. The exceptions being the likes of Rogi. However, the club also has close connections to Dovele in Vella la Vella. Clezy Rore, Lyn and Robert Vavozo, Dean Bambu and a few from Marovo also played for the club.
I remember my father often spoke of Colvie Rore who tragically passed away just as DMP FC was beginning to emerge. He still believes Colvie would have been a star just like Samson. Old, parched photographs of the club’s farewell at the Betikama School cemetery is the only reminder I have seen. He must have been a truly special player because everyone turned up in their uniform to bid farewell as he was laid to rest.
In recent times despite pleas from the club, my father resisted the club’s overtures to get him back into management. The club has fallen on hard times and given the talent available, it felt it just needs the right management in place to provide direction for its next homegrown players.
The past Sunday’s experience rekindled my father’s enthusiasm for football. He now sees that although he may no longer have the technical poweress of a bygone era, he can still inspire and he can motivate. He can be a leader.
As the Arsenal faithful sang “Tottenham Hotspurs it’s happened again!” my father joined the chant soaking in the atmosphere while cheering and acknowledging that he had witnessed football at it’s very best.
He celebrated all three of Giroud’s goals and he joined the standing ovation as Arteta drove the final nail into Aston Villa’s dismal season. A goal which was later ruled an own goal. He stood up and sang as the players staged a lap of honour to bid farewell to the Emirates faithful who supported them all season.
As we walked back amongst the Arsenal fans he smiled the happiest smile. There was an odd glow about him. He shook his head in amazement. “Who would have imagined that one day I would be walking with Arsenal fans on a day they leapfrogged Tottenham to finish second in the English Premier League.”
James Renwick, is phenomenal because he gave my dad the perfect London holiday. He picked the one thing closest to my dad’s heart. “A day out at the Emirates Stadium watching Arsenal at the home of football. There is no greater gift!”
It was a truly amazing experience and my father was there to witness it.