Algeria puts its crown on the line: the 33rd African Cup of Nations opens Sunday in Yaoundé (Cameroon). Who can give the name of the next king of the continent? Anybody. The level of competition increases with each edition and there are many contenders – Senegal, Cameroon, Ivory Coast, Algeria, Morocco, Nigeria, Egypt, Tunisia, etc. The importance is elsewhere. The Africa Cup is unlike any other. It is played out in the heart of the season – a calendar that annoys European clubs who see their players fly away thousands of kilometers to tread lawns (often dented) in a shattering heat. Conditions that leave traces.
The powerful have teamed up to push back the mass by instrumentalizing the health situation. Africa pitched but resisted. This competition has been telling the same story for ages. The teams often show up half-prepared or not at all – the European clubs (with the help of international bodies) release the players at the last moment. Some get to know their teammates a week before kick-off; sometimes they don’t speak the same language. The dialects are as numerous as the sons of immigrants and naturalized people. Everything is mixed around the ball: exile, return to the land, traditions and fate. In 2019, for example, Algerian striker Andy Delort became African champion following never putting a toe in the country. He discovered Algiers on his return from Cairo with the trophy.
Infinite tenderness
It is never trivial to participate in the African Cup. The stars (Sadio Mané, Mohamed Salah, Riyad Mahrez…) have nothing to fear: they have strong contracts and a top rating. But it’s not the same cookie for average elite players or lower divisions. A return with an injury and it is a renewal of contract which flies away. A replacement who shines in his absence and he is dismissed on his return. Not too much room for feelings. The anecdotes are numerous. They are sometimes funny but not always. Long trips; the Adventures ; negotiations with federations to receive a bonus or be reimbursed for plane tickets.
In recent years, we have crossed paths with a few players who have played in the African Cup. They all speak of it with infinite tenderness. Memories galore. Not a single one regrets. They all keep the best in mind. One followingnoon in Brittany, a West African attacker – who was having lunch incognito in a restaurant – told us: “Since I scored two goals in the African Cup, the President of the Republic receives me every time I come back to the country and all the mothers consider me their son. My colleagues in the locker room find it hard to believe me, but it’s the truth. ” The African Cup of Nations is a tale.
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