Screenshot of www.parifoot.com[/caption]
A. I played Parifoot exactly three times. I won the first time. I bet 500frs and got 35,000Frs. I still feel the dopamine rush when I think of that memory. I told the lady who gave my prize money:
“ Remember this face, you’ll be seeing it often”
She never saw me again. Three years ago.
If you can predict anything, successively, for many days in a row, you are probably not a human being. Go back to your mothership.
Why would I, or anyone, think I can know whether Messi would score within the first half of a match? Because of statistics? Because of previous match results.
I don’t know if we ever think of how stupid it really is to bet on the likelihood of ANYTHING, happening. The only thing I am certain of (apart from the fact that I am certain that I am not certain of anything), is that one day, I will die. That’s it.
Betting should be a sin. (Thank heaven I didn't write the book ( now that I mention that, it probably IS in the big book. And that last statement expresses my lack of religious education. Sheesh. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot))
Solution: The passion we have for football could be directed towards-
1. Writing critical football blogs that could generate revenue for their owners while exposing the loopholes of our “national” sport and providing a transparent arena for leadership, checks, and balances.
2. Organizing interurban football games sponsored by “multinationals” like MTN ( and why not FIFA?) that would see the next Eto’o come to light.
3. Make a TV show or movie showcasing the struggle of a rising football star. Employ screenwriters who are passionate and know the game.
4. Make a quarterly magazine covering national and local football that would encourage Sportswriting and constructive fanship.
5. Garner resources to build outdoor viewing ( and even Cinemas) for shared viewing among fans.
6. You get my point.
B. I’ve never known how scamming works. I have heard rumors and whispers. I have but one simple image of the idea: fool someone into giving you money for something you don’t have a.k.a theft. Period.
I’m a big believer in Karma. And that we get what we deserve. My conscience is a biatch. Seriously. I can’t owe you and sleep. I can’t steal. I can’t lie.
I mean…I try…but the pain I feel. Bro, I just can’t keep it. Plus, when you lie, you need to remember the lie.
(Note: I think that is why I love poetry and fiction. I get to write things you will never understand in the name of art. But if you did, you’d see it’s just perfumed truths. I suppose you’ll now go through all my blog posts huh? See ya face.)
Here are a couple of traits I think could be repurposed ( or is it rehabilitated?) from Scammers:
1. Salesmanship: it takes a load of skill to sell anything. Do you know the skill it takes to sell something you don’t have? AND GET PAID FOR IT? Kudos bro! Kudos Sis! Seriously. You could sell anything ANYTHING! if you so chose to.
2. Negotiation: If you’ve read any entrepreneurship listicle, you must have come across this one. Talking on the phone, changing intonation to suit the audience, verbal skills…a scammer is a born negotiator. Give him/her a deal and watch the clients wet themselves.
3. Persistence: If scammers got rich in the first few takes, I don’t think we’ll be hearing about them anymore. It must mean they try and fail. Try, and fail. Until they win. Then try again. Can’t you see the entrepreneur staring at you in them?
4. Again, I’ll stop here.
Note: I was scammed a couple of months ago. And it sucked. It was one of the worse points of my life. Don’t think for one second I am in love with scammers. Karma is a bitch. And she will get what she wants. Or not. Who cares? You’re making my day by reading this. Screw scammers. Right?
C. I strongly believe that everyone is born with a gift. That the Lord sends each of us with a purpose. It is now the job of our parents to guide us to it, and soon, very soon, it becomes our job to identify and nurture it to perfection.
Most people spend their lives being the best average person at a talent they might have. Not why they were sent here in the first place.
I know this too well. One year in Biochemistry. Three in Medical Lab Sciences. You know my story drill. Until recently, I have fought with my real nature. What I wanted. Who I was. And what I was good at.
And especially, what I wasn’t good at. Here’s my illustration of the pain we go through trying to be who can never be:
Let’s imagine we are in a race. All of us. We are racers. Some of us are born with the lungs that permit us last longer. Some with longer strides. Others, with better muscles for springing.
Now, if you were born to jump, why would you bother to race? Why would you, because your dad was a professional racer, practice every day in order to be an average racer?
If only you put half of your practice into the talent you came to this earth for- jumping- do you have any idea how high you could get?
Stop wasting time. Stop racing. Start.
Start jumping bro.
P.S: Or sis. :)