Memo to Africa: Lighten Up

Der Spiegel has an article today about African soccer teams using witch doctors to improve their chances. All manner of hilarity ensues.

In the 1980s, sports development specialist Holger Obermann was working as trainer of FC Wallidan in the Gambian capital of Banjul. He had decided to ignore any witchcraft worries and just play the game. But shortly before the team was supposed to meet Sierra Leone in the West African Nations Cup, there was a sudden panic.

"I was ready for a lot -- but not this," Obermann wrote in his memoirs. "Biri was pointing fearfully at a green powder, which was strewn at irregular intervals along the narrow path to the stadium. It reminded me of laundry powder, maybe some sort of powdered paint. 'The path is bewitched,' Biri cried out agitated and the other players immediately agreed." The players refused to go further. They were not so foolish as to start a conflict with supernatural powers.

Green powder? That's child's play. Let's go straight for the strong stuff - burying bones.

At the 2002 Africa Cup, Camaroon trainer Winnie Schäfer had to do without his co-trainer Thomas Nkono because, just prior to the semi-final, he had been seen burying bones under the turf and spraying a strange elixir, in order to cast a spell on the playing field.

The response in Africa has been a major downer.

The Confederation of African Football likewise doesn't want to hear about magic anymore and have banned witchcraft. No substances may be sprinkled over the playing fields and there can be no witch doctors on the bench with the teams.

Look, the African teams are going to get taken to the woodshed by the likes of Germany and Brazil. At least if they allowed the witch doctors to do their thing, there might be some amount of uncertainty in the game instead of everyone knowing ahead of time that it was going to be a decisive ass-kicking.

Forget Brazil's crushing defense and their super-athletic forwards, Cote d'Ivoire's got some whacked-out fat dude gyrating wildy in the upper deck, plastered out of his mind on rancid goat's milk, trying to hex the South American juggernaut.