By Ken Bediako
Sports journalism is an exciting profession, more especially if you are an optimist who always likes to see the brighter side of life.
No matter how professional or a big business entity competitive sports has now become, the fact remains it is a game and major source of entertainment. In fact, we take to sports in pursuit of happiness.
Sports arenas are not funeral grounds.
To my mind a pessimist who has no sense of humour has no business being a sports journalist.
The sports journalist is a passionate partner in the development and promotion of sports.
The fellow must not be like my nameless friend who describes football for instance as a crazy game with 22 able bodied men chasing a piece of cow hide.
Great thinkers like Pierre Courbertin who, in 1896 envisaged a worldwide Olympic Games to bring
together the youth of the world for a healthy sports competition, must be celebrated. The young men and women who have opted to add value to their hands and feet by engaging in competitive sports must also be celebrated.
And journalists who have developed so much interest and devote time and energy to promote sporting events through the mass media (written press, radio and TV) should be celebrated as well. Theirs is an exciting assignment matched only by the dedication and devotion of the sportsmen and sportswomen themselves. The sports journalist’s role is a bit tricky. You can easily earn popularity in a short time. Every sports fan would like to be a friend but you can turn a real villain if you are not steady enough.
Sports journalism opens the gate to so many privileges. It is an accepted fact that sports thrive on publicity and that explains why all major sports events worldwide give special attention to the
media. As someone succinctly put it “the Press can make or mar so they must be handled with care.” Sports facilities everywhere have special galleries for the comfort of the people who can make or mar.
When I entered the profession as a 20-year-old junior apprentice at the Daily Graphic in 1961. I was thrilled to realise we didn’t have to join a queue at the Accra Stadium on match days. An exclusive, well positioned Press box was reserved for sportswriters who had a clear view of action on the pitch. It was from this exclusive press box, that I clearly witnessed the Black Stars triumphant Afcon Cup victory in 1963 when they beat Sudan 3-0 in the final.
It was from the same comfortable press box that I saw the maiden Africa Cup for champion clubs involving only four clubs.
They were Oryx from Cameroun, Cotton of Ethiopia, Stade Mali and Ghana’s Real Republikans that participated in a league knockout contest.
Oryx won the cup beating Stade 2-1 in the final and Republikans won bronze beating Cotton 2-1.
The next big occasion I had a reserved ringside in the first World featherweight boxing title fight at Accra Stadium in May 1964 between local idol Floyd Robertson and Cuban born Sugar Ramos of Mexico that Floyd lost controversially.
On that night I had the privilege of sitting next to Peter Wilson, the celebrated sports writer from the Daily Mirror of London typing his story as the fight went on.
In 1966 I was among the sports journalists at the plush Houphoet Boigny Stadium in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, where Kumasi Asante Kotoko drew 2-2 with
Stade Abidjan in the CAF champions league prelims match having surprisingly lost the first leg 1-0 in Kumasi.
In 1968 I was in the comfortable press box at the Surulere Stadium in Lagos Nigeria where Cape Coast Dwarfs lost 3-2 to Stationery Stores in the first leg of the CAF Cup series. Dwarfs won the second division leg in Accra 2-1 but lost the resulting toss of the coin. The two teams were at par 4-4 but away goals did not count at the time. It was rather a toss of the coin.
Fast forward to 1970 Afcon in Sudan I was among sports journalists that enjoyed fine facilities at the new Khartoum Stadium where Ghana lost the cup final 1-0 against the host nation.
Later in the year I was among five privileged sports writers Joe Aggrey, Oheneba Charles, Stephen Borquaye and John Adoboe of Ghana Films, that accompanied Accra Hearts of Oak on a two-week tour of the UK. Needless to say we as well enjoyed the fantastic facilities at all the six venues where Hearts were in action.
We also went on sightseeing at the famous Old Trafford in Manchester.
But the best was yet to come when the Graphic sponsored me to the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich. At the Bavarian capital city Sports journalists were treated like Kings. We enjoyed a bountiful freebie like heavily discounted German Beer and assorted drinks. We had specially designed personal mail boxes stuffed with a lot of books and magazines that eventually caused luggage overweight on our departure home.
This was a landmark Olympics that were almost ruined by the killing of 11 Israeli athletes by some Palestine bandits.
In the midst of a huge debate whether the
Games should be abandoned or not. Avery Brundage the American boss of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), declared that Olympism must not succumb to terrorists. “The Games must go on” he ruled. After series of hot debates at the press Centre the Games continued after two days break when a memorial service was organised at the Olympic stadium for the slain Israeli athletes.
Suddenly the gloomy atmosphere in both the Games Village and especially the Press Centre came to life.
Sports journalists all over the world are by nature so fond of camaderie and often too nationalistic.
I recall many of the British journalists paraded the press box with T-shirts emblazoned “Bedford For Gold” in honour of their trusted 10,000 metres runner David Bedford.
Unfortunately, he failed to shine but they never despaired.
Some sports journalists can be so fanatical to a fault. Can you imagine that I was nearly carried shoulder high in the press box when Ugandan John Akii Bua ran a fantastic race to set a record in the 400 metres hurdles. It didn’t matter when I said I wasn’t from Uganda. It was all fun to meet fellow sports journalists at such big Games.
The 1976 Olympics in Montreal Canada was another joyous occasion of bonding for sports journalists. It was unfortunate that the Ghanaian press crew of Broadcasters Ben Eghan Jnr, and Ken Amoah, and, Sammy Aduagyei of the Ghanaian Times (all of blessed memory) and
yours truly, had to leave midway through the Games since. Ghana and the rest of Africa plus a few Caribbean countries boycotted the Games a day to the opening ceremony because of the presence of New Zealand who at the time had regular sporting relations with then apartheid South Africa.
The Ghana contingent of footballers, athletes and boxers had left for Ghana but we sports journalists decided to stay on for a while more especially when we had fully paid for boarding and lodging in advance.
Although we appeared welcome at the press Centre, we found it odd to stay around when our sportsmen and sportswomen, had vamoosed. We reluctantly left a few days before the close of the Games. I fondly remember one Canadian journalist
who said the Games had given them the opportunity to see for the first time “hockey without ice.”
You know Canadians are fond of ice hockey so field hockey at that time was alien to them.
Anyway I also took advantage to watch some ice hockey at close range for the first time in very cold surroundings for my liking.
After Montreal I was lucky to attend two more Olympics- Seoul 1988 and Barcelona 1992, this time as press attaché of the Ghana Olympic Committee.
I met Zimbabwean colleague Tommy Sithole who had been elevated to president of his county’s Olympic Committee.
We were both nostalgic missing the press Centre camaderie with the usual 24-hour bar.
In Barcelona 1992 I had additional responsibility as member of the Black Meteors management committee so I completely missed the press Centre jigs.
All this rigmarole is to show the affinity between sports journalists and those who manage sports. It’s a grand co-operation.
Currently, as the nation is glaringly facing the prospects of losing her identity as one of Africa’s leading football nation. I implore all sports journalists to put their resources together and team up with the failing and patently clueless but overconfident all-knowing administrators to save the situation.
The time is now. Let’s prevent a monumental catastrophe. The sages say a stich in time saves nine.
Cheers everybody and keep loving sports.
