Dopplegangers in Yagoua
on An Earl in Cameroon (Cameroon), 17/Nov/2009 19:41, 34 days ago
« Lloris !, bonne arrivée, c’est comment ? » came the shout on my first day back in Yagoua from a gang of young lads who hang out on the same corner all day every day.“Why are they still calling me Lloris? I have to get a look at this guy” I resolved as I wandered back from the market after stocking up on onions, tomatoes and le vache qui rit– how I missed that processed, tin foiled, triangulated cheese while I was back in cheddar country.I had been hearing“Lloris” for months from these lads before I copped they were talking to me. Now you have to appreciate that being the only male “Nassara” in town I wasn’t used to being called anything other than Nassara or le Blanc. Anyhow, these guys are football mad and I’ll stop the odd time to catch up on European results while they use the chat as an opportunity to remind me of Liverpool’s woes. When I finally copped it was me they were talking to and quizzed them as to why they were calling me Lloris, I was told it was because I resembled the Lyon goalkeeper. Fair enough I thought, anddidn’t think much more of it. Not, at least, until last Saturday night when I was watching the Ireland v France World Cup playoff match.What’s this about the internet and live football in Yagoua?’ I suppose you’re wondering. Had I not led you to believe that life was tough out here? Well it is in no small measure that thanks to France’s imperialistic tendencies in the late 19th century the match was broadcast live throughout Cameroon on TV5 Monde. I wouldn’t have had a chance of seeing it if we’d drawn, say, Russia in the playoffs or if, indeed, the French stayed away from the “Scramble for Africa”.The match was shown in a local’s backyard under the stars and there was a pretty sizeable crowd in to gloat at the hoped-for misfortune of the French. Cameroon had, earlier that day, secured their place in South Africa so the locals were waiting for a French slip-up. The 100f admission secured a seat on a bench not far fromthe bed sheet that hung on a wall at one end of the yard and, apart from the odd cricket landing on the screen, the reception was perfect. All that was missing was a bit of Bill, Johnny and Eamon but despite the lack of analysis I felt right at home.In fact I must have thought I was at home judging by the amount of expletives I was hurling towards the screen throughout the first half. Though, in hindsight, it mustn’t have been too bad as it didn’t seem to disturb the guys that were sleeping on the mats in front of me. After the first 20 minutes of the game I suddenly began to notice Hugo Lloris’ name mentioned in the commentary and realised that this guy not only kept nets for Lyon but for France too.I had to get a good look at my döppelganger and see if there were any similarities.It wasn’t until near the end of the first half that he appeared (shows the number of chances that we created) and, alas and alack, he’s white, has dark hair aaaaaand that’s about it! In fact there are more differences than similarities: he’s a lot better in goal than I am, judging by the save he pulled off to deny Glen Whelan a late equaliser; he probably speaks better French than I do and he’s more confident of seeing (and even playing with) his country in next year’s World Cup than I am right now – though I’d settle for seeing, after 100+ caps I think Shay Given’s place is unassailable.So I’ve my 100 francs set aside for tomorrow night’s second leg and am hoping that the electricity won’t cut out so I can watch the match in hope of a miracle. At John F. Kennedy’s inauguration in 1961 (it’s great having google here in Yags!!!) he famously spoke the immortal words “ask notwhat you’re country can do for you but what you can do for your country”. Now if Hugo Lloris decides to flap a couple of balls tomorrow night which will gift Kevin Doyle a goal or two then I will quite happily take all the ridicule that will undoubtedly come my way from the lads on the streeton Thursday.Allez les verts!GC