Orville Taylor

In he came like the character in the video game, Super Mario Brothers, with a moustache and height to match. Looking somewhat like the cartoon icon on the Captain's Bakery, where the scheme to import him was baked, René Simoes was back. The 'Professor,' curiously without a doctoral degree, was the expected saviour of a motley crew of Reggae Boyz - many believed, although he abandoned his tag line 'Jesus saves.' Well, apparently Jesus saved in one of those failed 'unregulated investment schemes', because there were no dividends except the salary the 'Profiesa' received.

Failure was written in indelible ink in the same space that the catch phrase used to be displayed, and no greater sign was given than the less-than-24-hour arrival of the team into the hostile Azteca. It was a decision of a resigned loser and as assistant coach Vin Blaine tried unsuccessfully to spin it before departure, they wanted to go in and leave quickly. That sounded like someone who was being sent to the principal's office for caning, or to the doctor for a prostate examination.

Well, indeed it was at least as unpleasant, because the Mexicans made salsa out of the Jamaican 'salad' tomatoes and beat us like uninvited guests or a plainclothes policeman caught by special constables. The Mexicans were hostile; but the Hondurans showed us more love, two at that, and made our hopes of reaching Nelson Mandela's country sink. Interestingly, Honduras means 'depths' in Spanish and that is exactly where we are. The only questions are, what are we deep in, and how will we finish it?

plain stupidity

If I heard him clearly - and that is a big if, because after 13 years, it is still difficult to understand him - he takes the blame for the Mexican ambush. Duh! Given the rarefied air, it was just plain stupidity for the team to arrive only 20 hours before the game. Even if we were playing the Caymanians next door, at least two days would have been recommended, if even to get accustomed to the accent of the hotel staff. The Azteca is located 7,000 feet above sea level; the same as Blue Mountain peak. At those heights, oxygen is as scarce as honest politicians and athletes not acclimatised to breathing the thin air suffer from hypoxia and tire quickly.

Did Captain Burrell, with his army experience, consider training at the military base at Newcastle, which is at 4,000 feet and thus making the players a bit more adjusted? When Simoes made the most truistic statement that the Boyz were tired, I wanted him fired then. The performance in Honduras was another symptom. I support the dismissal of Simoes, no cheque, no cash.

Still, let us give him credit. He brought Jamaican football to a level previously unknown and reaching the finals of the World Cup is no mean task. True, sprinter Raymond Stewart made many finals and came several close to last. However, for a non-footballing power, it was history, and that cannot be taken from him. Nevertheless, it is necessary to understand what were the elements of his success.

First of all, with his impressive record and international expertise, this Brazilian who led his national youth team to the South American title in 1988, caused a flood of support, sponsorship and bandwagonists. Money flowed and 'Waltcha Buoyd' and 'Nandylew,' were suddenly making more money than university professors.

We believed; matches were sold out; the airlines fought to be their official carrier; and Sports Minister Portia Simpson Miller and Prime Minister P.J. Patterson backed them with two clenched fists.

But was Simoes that good in the first place? Reggae Boyz 1 was a dream team comprising several 'English-based' (as opposed to Patois-based?) and some local talent. Simoes cut Robbie Earle, Deon Burton, Paul Hall, Fitzroy Simpson, Frank Sinclair, Marcus Gayle and Darrel Powell from their vaunted British soccer leagues and pasted them into a squad including ball wizard Theodore Whitmore, Andy 'Bomber' Williams, teenage prodigy Ricardo 'Bibby' Gardner and half-pitbull-half soldier, Ian 'Pepe' Goodison. The 'Profiesa' did not build a squad from scratch. If Simoes were a professor at the University of the West Indies or any other, he would be guilty of plagiarism.

pirated lyrics and rhythms

Yet, we enjoyed it, just as we dance to the pirated lyrics and rhythms that characterise some of the songs of Beenie Man and Elephant Man. Not quite original, but it has a nice new twist.

Few people recognise that Simoes was 'technical director' but the coach was locally bred Carl Brown. Brown must have been the silent, unsung hero because it is difficult to imagine Simoes giving instructions at high speed to a squad of men running flat out. If Simoes shouted "Poos!", did he mean "pass" or "post"? There was no mistaking "clout" for "cloth" when Brown bellowed at them.

What the Jamaica Football Federation needs to do is to learn from the MVP Track Club. They got local coaching expertise that was willing to learn and read globally. Then, they focused on the sport in which we have a competitive advantage and diligently took our place as the sprint capital. Don't be fooled! Sprinting is far more technical than soccer because of the narrow margins of error.

Still, we are using the same pool of genetically faster youths and we need to incorporate their speed into the Jamaican game. We don't need to play Brazilian 'foochball'. If we can control, kick and pass accurately, then nobody can catch us as we touch and run, after crossing the half line. Ask Kingston College how they won so many Manning cups with track stars on the team.

Tchau! Professor, Jesus saves souls, not jobs.

Orville Taylor is senior lecturer in the Department of Sociology, Psychology and Social Work at UWI, Mona. Feedback may be sent to orville.taylor@uwimona.edu.jm or columns@gleanerjm.com.