by Colin Hyde

I once got a little disappointed with one of my favorite people ever, the late Mrs. Virginia Hill Neal, over what I considered a failure in her management of Camalote’s softball club, Duurly’s Cristal. She was the manager; I was her assistant. I knew the primary duty of an assistant. It is to plug leaks, fill the gaps where the captain of the ship lets down. If your captain/leader is an incorrigible drunk, you have to go to bed early, because someone in authority has to be functional and on time when the bell rings in the morning.

It happens sometimes that the assistant sees where a link isn’t too strong, but their hands are tied. The matter in question was “personal”, and our charges being girls, there wasn’t anything I could do to remedy it. This little fire, my manager had to put out herself.

Sometime back, I reported on a lesson I learned when I had been thrust into the leadership of Camalote’s football club. The situation that arose taught me to be very careful with “personal” things, because they could destroy all the field preparations, everything put into making a club a success.

Now, I get no excitement from knowing people’s bizniz. If it’s personal, relationship things like “like” or love, I don’t care to know. But, you are forced to know things if you are responsible for others. Unbeknownst to me, two of our boys were in a battle over a girl. At halftime I saw them jawing at each other as they came toward the bench. Had I known what I should have known, I would have acted with urgency, instead of waiting for them on the sidelines.

They say there is nothing new under the sun. I guess somewhere else in this world, at some time, two football teammates got into a fight while they were yet on the field. But I haven’t heard about it.

Understandably, there are issues such as personal finances, personal and family health issues that could detract from the focus of a player on game day. The one at the helm fails if they allow petty human weakness to interfere with the team’s chemistry. You can’t have two sailors on a ship with such friction between them that they start shooting at each other. Such atrocity could bore holes in the hull and then, down goes the vessel. If I had known that something other than football was foremost on human minds on the field, I would have approached those boys rather than wait for them to reach me.

A couple players joined me when I rushed onto the field to break up the boys who were in flagrant violation. The referee, Pete Carrillo, mercilessly pulled out the dreaded tarjeta roja and stuck it in both their faces. Of course, I complained to Pete. But if I was the man in the middle, I would have gone, had to go, red too. There are some things you just don’t do when you are wearing your team colors.

Something was amiss between two sets of girls on the softball club. I didn’t know what my manager knew; I didn’t know if she was working behind the scenes to resolve the difference, whatever it was. What I knew was that coming on to game day things weren’t settled, matters absolutely had to be addressed, and I was not the person who could rein in matters. Very respectfully, I brought up the matter of the tension with Manager during one of our regular after-workout meetings. I asked her if she was aware of a problem, and if she was, if she was addressing it. My manager said she knew there were some undercurrents, and she wasn’t about intervening. When I told her she was wrong to be hands off, in defense of her stance she said: Dehn da big people, Missa Hyde.

Let me repeat something I’ve said a few times in my column. I thought Mrs. Virginia was one of the most awesome, wonderful women ever. She was at the top of the class in so, so many things. But here, on this matter, I thought she was wrong. Of course it’s babysitting, and that’s an unpleasant job if that’s not your style, but somebody had to do something. Maybe Manager needed a second assistant, someone of her gender, or her assistant should have been a woman too. Maybe there are men who are cultured to get between women. I wasn’t brought up that way. I expect I would have given counsel, whatever the problem was, if one of the parties had asked for my intervention.

In team sports, individuals cannot be allowed to disrupt the whole, to jeopardize victory. Manager had many great strengths, and she loved all of her girls. In many situations, love conquers all. I felt she needed to get in some face or faces. Me, I kwail (coil) up an gaan eena mi kaana, knowing that come Sunday we’d be as flat as a comal.

There are times when people in leadership haffu get eena people face. According to the Channel 7 tally, SEVEN Belizeans lost their lives on motorbikes in a week. They asked Minister Musa for his thoughts on the matter, and he about said, dehn da big people. Here’s his response, taken from the Channel 7 transcript: “I think at some point we have to take personal responsibility. I’m sure the Ministry of Transport, the highway patrols, all of them are taking serious note of what is happening, especially when it comes to motorcycles. We’ve seen an increased number of cases of fatalities, and so that is definitely on the Ministry of Transport’s radar. It’s definitely on the police’s radar; but at the end of the day, we can ticket only so much. At the end of the day, you’re the one behind the cycle, you’re the one driving at high speeds; you have to take better care.”

Minister Kareem, Minister Rodwell, no, no, no; get it, when people can’t take care of themselves, those in leadership must assert themselves. We are our brothers’ keeper. I say, those people who are against weed or drinking can’t be faulted for wanting those vices banned so that people can’t harm themselves. Their madabig FAULT is that their medicine is far worse than the poison.

I expect Minister Kareem has some data the rest of us don’t have. He should share it. We need every detail of every accident involving cars, trucks, motorbikes, bicycles on our roads, including the ones that didn’t end in fatalities. Get our UB to do some research and publish their findings to help guide us. No need to call names. How many of the victims were drunk? How many had worked too many hours and might have been tired? At what hours of the day/night did the accidents happen? Did any of them have cause to be feeling suicidal or crazy?

If none of these big people in government respect me, I would hope Minister Ferguson does, having worked at the same place I did for a couple years. If he did not respect how I carried out my duties, I’d be very disappointed. Get eena face, Braa. Humble yourself for just this moment, Minister, and say, as I would if I wore your shoes: I am the Minister of Transport. You will not drive crazy, you will not drive drunk. You will drive like a man in love. Sorry, if you are crazy or suicidal or showoff, I will see you off the road, grounded before you get into or cause a mishap. I will not have you killing yourself or someone on my highway.

Don’t be afraid of these lawyers. They don’t control the courts anymore. Don’t be afraid of the UDP. They were in 13 years and they choked on their arrogance. So, they have money to make ads. Their words are empty. They holler, but the people don’t hear them.

You, Rado; you, Kareem; you’re at the wheel. Get eena face. Accidents will happen. There shouldn’t be people out there looking for them. I say, “bups” the hell out of anybody who goes about looking for accidents. Okay, we sillilili gave up the whip, but there are many legal ways to put the cramp on people who need to be brought into line. Stop people and smell dehn breath. Disrupt the flow of our day if we exhibit wildness. Ferret out these people who are driving like maniacs. People who disrespect human lives must be exposed. Yes, for us disrespectful ones, call names and describe the vehicles.

I am afraid to look at the ages of the brothers who died on motorbikes last week. I expect it’s the productive age, which makes these deaths even more sad. We are our brothers’ keeper. Our duty is to help our people get into maturity, reach the age of responsibility. Saaf management won’t get that job done.