By Muyiwa Adetiba

A sporting accident prevented me from a sporting event I would have given anything to attend last week.

This happened on a Monday evening. I had gone for my usual game of squash — please don’t say again—when it happened. We were on the last game, and despite my vow to take things easy on the court, my competitive spirit took over. I went for a ball I should not have gone for and crowded my opponent in the process. He also wanted the point (badly?) and tried to hit the ball when he should have held back.

(In modern squash with its safety precautions, neither of us was right). The result was that the racket smashed my lower face — it could have hit anywhere with worse consequences. I immediately covered my mouth and rushed out of the court. When I removed my hand, it was covered with blood and what I spit out was pure, thick blood. I was worried, and so were the people now gathered around me. A constant gargle with salt and cold water revealed that the teeth were intact—thank God— but the lips were not. It had been cut inside and outside.

On my way home after I had been patched up, I scrolled my phone to see the missed calls as I usually do. One of them came from Chuka Momah, one of country’s best sports commentators in print and on air. I was however  in no shape mentally and physically— the upper lip was swelling by the second— to return any call.

The following day, Chuka had followed up with a text message which invited me to the launch of his two books; one on Mohammed Ali, the boxing legend, and the other a collection of his articles from various publications. It was an event I would have wanted to attend given my interest in sports and my relationship with the author. I was also a consultant of sorts to the printing of the books.

I took a look at my mouth in the mirror however, and did not see how it would go down by Friday. So I sent a text to him explaining my predicament. He called almost immediately with words of commiseration and advice. After discussing sundry things— Chuka is also a good conversationalist— we agreed to watch things and let the mouth speak for itself come Friday.

With a bombardment of medications given by concerned doctors; concerned because they felt I had no business returning to the squash court after what happened to me last year, the lip began to respond to treatment, and by Friday, had considerably gone down. But I still attracted the occasional curious look from those who don’t know me well enough to ask the big question and ‘what happened?’ from those who do. So I decided, wisely in my view, to stay at home although my heart wanted to be at the launch.

My resolve was sorely tested when Chuka called on Friday morning to ask after my mouth and if it was in a good shape to attend the book launch. I told him it didn’t look too good but that I really wanted to attend. He then requested that I should please go through the books and do a review since I already had them. I was let off so gracefully!

That evening, after the Channel TV news, I opened ‘Sports Spectacular’, the bigger of the two books, meaning to flip through and find a peg for my write- up. I did not close the book again until 4am.

I know Chuka writes well. I had followed him over the years and I know of his flair. I have also watched enough of his sports programmes on TV to attest to his knowledge of different kinds of sports, especially of boxing and tennis. But the book surprised me. I had thought it was going to be a chore, which was why I had delayed reading the books while waiting for ‘free time’.

Last Friday evening/Saturday morning turned out to be a very pleasurable one. I savoured the articles, including the preface and the foreword, for the simplicity of words and elegance of language. If there is any criticism, it is that he tried too hard on the details, many of which would probably not be retained by the readers. It is like the reporter who writes that the Guest of honour’ arrived to an event at exactly 10.03 am in an ash-coloured Mercedes Benz 350 E class. When all the reader really needs to know is that the man- or woman- arrived at 10 in the morning in a Mercedes Benz. I guess that is what makes Chuka Momah encyclopaedia Chukanica as someone fondly calls him, and the book, a rich source of information.

The variety and depth of the collections in ‘Sports Spectacular’ will make you wonder how a non journalist – he is a pharmacist— has been able to amass such quantity and quality in a rare field.

Many have recommended the book for all sports people, young and old. I want to go further and recommend it to anybody who loves the written word. Chuka is gifted and the book is more than a gift. It is a treasure. It is also a positive book written by a man who does not believe in hitting others when they are down. He was effusive when appreciating talent and spartan when commenting on human frailties.

His autographed message to me ended with ‘I feel proud to call you my friend’. Having read ‘Sports Spectacular’, I should be the one to feel proud to be called his friend.