But apart from the great sex you could get from the virgins that littered the school and the evergreen palm wine that was smuggled into junior staff quarters, what amazed me about the school was the odd assortment of individuals that one met in boarding school; ruffians, effikos (bookworms), gays, talented geeks, born-agains, and genuine flirts. But all through my stay in college no-one amazed me more than Folajimi - or Jimi as he was called.
Jimi was the original average person. There was nothing in the world that Jimi could do brilliantly. He was actually not all together useless, which wouldn't have been uncommon as I had the hard luck of staying in the same room with a gang of the most useless boys I have ever known - Jimi was unique in that he was neither useless nor brilliant - he was mostly just a shade below average in EVERYTHING.
He scored average in class, was average when we played football and was usually in the third or fourth set when we played 'choosing', was average in his knowledge of movies and music, dated an averagely pretty girl, had an average voice and uncannily couldn't raise it beyond a particular decibel even if mobbed at the rec centre where we used to go buy snacks, he had two class shirts, two pairs of house wear, two pairs of shoes and I don't know a more average number than two.
Jimi was queer but was always available. If you needed anything to be done averagely, he'll be around to help you. Don't expect anything spectacular - it can never be. But he was handy and a pretty nice person to banter with (if you didn't mind an average banter - and I was usually amenable to such average banter after my 16 year old liver had just been drenched with a half bottle of Red Label whiskey nicked from the house of a room-mate's guardian at Shell Estate, Edjebba).
Almost twenty years have gone by now since I left college and it has finally dawned on me that Jimi was not alone in this world. Manchester United Football Club has in their ranks the most average footballer in the world - John O'shea - and their challenge for the title will be a hard road if and only if O'shea continues to command a first team shirt in a team that lauds itself as amongst the elites in world football. The only talent he has is his height - beyond that he just makes up the numbers. It would be no different if we put a red shirt on Klint the Drunk and ask him to parade the old Trafford turf and kick any ball that comes close to him (and kick any other thing that comes close to the ball).
Watch O'shea on any match day; he has no ball skills, no intelligence, no innovative thinking. If a ball is passed to him, he passes it right back at you (even if you have two markers on you) eclipsing any opportunity for the team to maintain ball possession. I know much has been said about his versatility, his ability to play in every known position ( I am talking football positions here) having even kept goal for United in a crunch league match against Spurs in the 2007/2008 season and accolades in this regard have been quietly showered on him.
He has also scored some miracle goals - 4th goal against Arsenal, chipping Almunia in the 2004/2005 season and the injury time winner against Liverpool at Anfield in the 2006/2007 season after coming on for Rooney.
But let's be honest, John, like Jimi my friend before him, was average in all of these positions; a jack of all positions and unfortunately a master of none. The miracle goals were not Messi-like miracles but more like the miracle that can be conjured by Perpetual Nkwocha if mistakenly included in the all conquering USA female soccer teams of the nineties.
What baffles me is the inexplicable inability of O'shea to raise his game, to improve his play, despite having played in the highest level of club football and having played for over ten years with scores of gifted and talented players like Giggs, Ronaldo, Rooney, Beckham just to mention a few. Unlike Carrick, he hasn't played sublime football before and then declined, nor is he like Fletcher who has raised his game enough to create a niche for himself as United's hatchet man; John O'shea has just been consistently a plateau of average football display.
As Man United continue their quest for another Barclays championship and glory in Europe, the question I think Sir Alex should genuinely ask himself from time to time is if John O'shea could possibly be the first or second choice right back in Chelsea, Barcelona, Real Madrid or Bayern.
The above article was submitted by Charles Omere, a poet and social commentator.
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