The gay man's sport

Last night’s Man U-Inter match was a very dull affair. A little like my insipid love life at the moment. I watched the game at a friend’s house, through three Imara-kama-Simbas and a fine dish of Ugali with beef stew. I woke this morning to the sound of roaring lions in my head which I blame on the Pilsners; I am sticking to Tusker from now on.

Pretty-faced Ronaldo is ok but best player on and off the pitch has to be man’s-man Giggs who seems to be having a renaissance – I feel like I’m due a renaissance myself. For a gay man like me, watching footie is all about checking out who looks hot and who’s not so hot.

If I were a manager picking a fantasy team for the premier league of a very different kind of sport…hmmm...my tag-team would definitely feature Giggs. I also wouldn’t complain about a tackle from Ashley Cole and neither would I bring myself to kick Theo Walcott out of bed. I’m not a Ronaldo hater but his delicate looks don't score with me. I find him too ‘trophy-wifey’ for my liking. And if I worked in the locker-room then Lampard should definitely have an early bath every day! (I couldn't resist the puns, sorry).

You can say I have a deep and thorough understanding of the sport.

Footie and the boys

One of the advantages of my undercover life is joining the boys to watch football matches screened at bars here in Nairobi. A typical match-day finds me in the company of my straight friends at Hooters. One such buddy is Mike who is married with 2 kids. Mike supports Arsenal as do I when we are together. Last time when I watched the Liverpool match with Tony it was of course red blood coursing through my veins! It can be tricky when in the company of my two buddies discussing teams, I usually just sip my beer and remark 'bado mapambano'. Lame, I know but it works!

The crowded bars on these days is fertile ground for a secret gay man like me to feast my eyes on the gorgeous Adonises chanting and cheering their teams. I guess its how a straight man feels watching the girls on Saturday night at Kachoi. I can't stare too long in case suspicions are raised but after 3 tuskers I forget where I am and lock eyes across the bar with some guy. It's only 2-3 seconds too long before averting my gaze to the action on the screens. It does cross my mind whether they too are here under false pretences...

I guess you are wondering about the post-goal celebrations and hugging. It's when the entire bar goes gay! Mike will give me a manly hug, jumping up and down screaming 'Arsenali' and as I hold on to him, I'll be thinking damn, the gym is doing wonders for his pecs...Thing is Mike is a dear friend and a homophobe, he would break my neck if he heard these secret thoughts...