February 1997 – N°22 – Love for the game – ENGLISH

Chills and spills. To this day, a lump still comes to my throat thinking about François Omam-Biyik scoring for Cameroon against Argentina in the opening match in Italy, the first World Cup finals I attended: hearing this tiny country’s national anthem, Cameroon, which would be heard all over the world by millions of people, and then the winning goal against the world champions! It was simply sensational; unbelievable! All too often in the press we hear about football hooligans, forgetting that every week-end, the world over, millions of true football fans turn up on the terraces to revel in the good-natured atmosphere which football creates. The tennis world only experiences this once in a while, such as in the Davis Cup Final.

Football has a very special place in my heart, if it wasn’t for football, and the fact that my mother too loved the game, and that she more especially loved the Sedan right back, namely my father, I wouldn’t be here today. Unfortunately, due to a fractured pelvis, my father’s career ended prematurely in 1963 and I never got to see him play.

Mates. In Cameroon everyone begins to kick a ball around as soon as they can walk, I played football with my mates all day long and we all supported the Canon Yaoundé team. My family played tennis however, which was fortunate for me, being the only kid in the neighbourhood who played the game I was naturally the best at it!

Frustration. When I turned pro it was extremely frustrating no longer being able to play football in case I got injured, or because of the insurance risk. These days I make up for lost time playing with Le Variétes Club de France (a charity team), alongside ex internationals like Platini, Giresse and Fernandez.

Each time I’m out there on the field, with players I idolised, I have to pinch myself. It’s a great honour and great fun. I also play in great games with tennis mates, or friends from the rugby world. It’s a fun way to stay in shape and a great way to meet people.

Universal. I remember my last trip to Mexico, arriving at a small village square where a football match was about to kick off. ” Any chance of a game ” I asked, ” where you from ? Cameroon huh “, a smile, ” Roger Milla ! No problem. Sure you can play “. And that’s all there is to it. I took the field. A language known all over the world.

My first World Cup memory is from the summer holidays in 1970. I remember being in the car with my father and stopping at a roadside café to watch Brazil vs England on television: a great match. From that moment – the first time I ever saw a game on television – Brazil became my team. It was all a far cry from Canon Yaounde and the hard grounds of Cameroon. Not that there weren’t great players in Cameroon, I remember Lea, a centre-forward, who is still the only player I’ve ever seen dribble around a goalkeeper once, wait, then dribble around him a second time before putting the ball in the back of the net. Television. I would’ve loved to be at the France vs West Germany semi-final in Seville in 1982 but alas, we were due to play Lendl’s Czechoslovakia the following day in a Davis Cup quarter-final. It’s incredible how worked up you can get watching a game on TV, I must’ve only slept a couple of hours and the following day we all arrived on court feeling emotionally drained. For the record however, we beat the Czechs.

Yannick Noah loves both to watch and to play the game.

Whenever he gets the chance, he laces up his boots and takes the field.

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