Amakhosi supporters have stopped crying; they have also grown tired of causing ugly scenes at stadiums.
They have seemingly accepted their fate that the Glamour Boys have now turned into an average club. Some of the fans are saying what is happening is a true reflection of reality at the Chiefs headquarters.
The Chiefs were blown out of the Nedbank Cup in spectacular fashion by minnows Milford FC. The club playing in third-tier Motsepe Foundation Champions, consists of students, factory workers and amateur players. For God’s sake, the club is coached and owned by gynaecologist Dr Xanti Pupuma, a man who spends most of his days fine-tuning women’s reproductive organs.
Enraged Chiefs supporters are pointing fingers at the head office, accusing the Motaung siblings – Bobby, Jessica, Kemiso, and Kaizer Jnr – of the decline, but the real problem is on the field of play. Chiefs have been getting away with murder by bringing in mediocre coaches and players. The rot started way back in July 2005 when one Ernst Middendorp was yanked from Germany to replace the late Ted Dumitru. The Romanian-born genius had just won two consecutive league titles and a potpourri of cup trophies.
I remember going to interview Middendorp when he arrived. He was wearing tight leather pants and looked like a rock star instead of soccer coach.
The German had a presentation chart and showed us graphics and fancy slides.
I was not impressed, especially with the way Middendorp handled the Emmanuel “Scara” Ngobese question.
This coach was talking about improving the work rate and making the “Black Jesus”, who was blessed with a sweet-tempered left foot, graft like other players. I just thought “here comes big mess”.
In no time, Ngobese was no longer making the starting lineup. He was shipped off to AmaZulu, and the flair with which they had won the league with Dumitru, like Covid-19, had disappeared into thin air.
Guess who replaced Middendorp soon after? Another charlatan, Kostadin Papic, had previously, with a stroke of luck, managed to turn a bunch of pint-sized Orlando Pirates players, Joseph “Duku-Duku” Makhanya, Gift Leremi, Benedict “Tso” Vilakazi, and Steve Lekoelea, into giant killers. But after three months, Kaizer Motaung decided Papic was one of the worst coaches the club had ever appointed, and gave him the boot.
Then the years rolled on, and other jokers such as Vladimir Vermezovic and Giovanni Solinas took the hot seat.
Club legend Arthur “10111” Zwane had a love-hate relationship with the fickle supporters who treated him with disdain.
Former Bafana Bafana coach Molefi Ntseki was roped in, much to the chagrin of the die-hard supporters. He was another coach who seemed a bit disoriented at Amakhosi and spent considerable time leaving the stadium in a police truck rather than on he team bus.
Those who understand the history of the Chiefs know too well that the club was cooked by top-notch chefs like Eliakim “Pro” Khumalo, Eddie Lewis, Mario “The Godfather” Tuani, Joe Frickleton, Ted Dumitri, and Jeff Butler, to mention but a few. They were not playing the kind of skop, skiet en donder football that we have witnessed in recent times.
The players, too, had a bit of swag about them. They commanded respect with their greasy, permed hair. They set fashion standards with their classy dress code and were always resplendent in their bell-bottoms and silky shirts.
Only a special bunch of human specimens were privileged to don the gold and black strip of Amakhosi. Today, the side is a shadow of its former self. The overpaid underachievers are now 14 points behind Mamelodi Sundowns.
Legends of the glamour club are up in arms. Marks Maponyane, who scored tons of goals for Chiefs, lamented the current situation and offered a drastic solution on a show on Radio 2000: “What needs to happen now is for the players to be read a riot act and be told how they’ve embarrassed the team.”
