Football was always our first love at this newspaper, hence the title of today’s editorial. Malanga is the name by which Locario Mayen, who has just passed away, was known all over the country of Belize in his prime forty years ago. Malanga was the older, far taller, less well known brother of Christobal Mayen. But for those of us who are football purists, Malanga’s is a name which will surely go down in history.
Given the enduring popularity of football in Belize, and the substantial FIFA subsidies which have come into Belize football, it should have been that there were local football publications to mark and honor the man Malanga. At the very least, the office of the Belize branch of FIFA should have made it their business to issue press releases, if they were not up to taping interviews with Locario Mayen’s contemporaries and fans.
There has been a conspiracy in Belize for several decades to demean manliness and sports, and football is the most manly of sports here. (Belize does not have rugby and American football, which are more violent than soccer.) Boxing aficionados will stand for their sport where manliness is concerned, and we are willing to concede. But boxing is practically non-existent in Belize in 2009.
Incidentally, boxing was so big in British Honduras in the 1940s that Roy “Slim Terror” Cadle was the lightweight champion of the American state of Arizona and Hankin Barrow was welterweight champion of Panama. This was even before Ludwig Lightburn in the 1950s. And before Cadle and Barrow themselves, there was Ethelbert “Kid” Broaster, who fought for a world title in the U.S. under the ring name of Kid Ambrose or Kid Chocolate. This would have been in the 1930s. These are matters we would like for Dr. Jerome Straughan to research.
The relevant doctor where Belize football is concerned, Dr. Bertie Chimilio, loves football. Everybody does. But Dr. Chimilio obviously loves himself more. He has done nothing to respect the history of football in Belize, and nothing to cooperate with the media systems which are sincere to the sport. Chimilio has built a bureaucratic football empire, which is controlled by himself. There are those, of course, who have aided and abetted him in his hegemony, and none of us ordinary mortals can do anything. It is easier to fight Lord Ashcroft than it is to fight Dr. Chimilio, and the English octopus has six times the money Belize has in our Central Bank. So, you know Bertie must have some big “backative.”
In times like these, we spurned lovers of “the beautiful sport” console ourselves with the wonderful memories which football gods like Malanga have left us. In his prime, Locario played the midfield for San Joaquin, Belize’s national football club champions in the late 1960s. He was a tall man, with lean muscles. Malanga wore his hair long enough so that you could see the “Apache” in him. For his height, his coordination was outstanding. Malanga never seemed to be caught off balance or placed in an awkward situation. Malanga’s was an understated elegance. As we think about him on his passing, he may have been Belize’s Beckenbauer, our Kaiser. (Please, no disrespect to Pa Tur. You were very, very good, Mr. Roches.)
In his youth, the Hon. Michael Finnegan was as great a football fan as we have seen and as we have been. We know the Hon. is now a very busy Cabinet Minister, but if he could spare a few minutes to testify to Malanga’s greatness, it would surely be appreciated.
At the editorial desk, we do not speak about football or sports any more. We have been pounded into submission by the enemies of the Belizean people. In celebrating the life and football glory of Malanga, however, our spirit rose above the morass and the doldrums of Belizean football.
Maximum respect, Malanga. Our condolences go to all your family and friends. Long live Belize. Power to the people. Power in the struggle.