His legal name is James Shannon. Affectionately known as “Boy-Ju”! I learned he was once an integral part of Mighty Barrolle Ball Club’s administration. That is in Liberia. During my short stay around him in Toledo, I realized he’s a die-heart “Roller” (Barrolle). James lives in Toledo, Ohio. At least, there’s where I left him when I moved out in 1990. He is one of the “Gurus” of Toledo. He’s been there for quite sometime. He was there when the legends of constructive soccer passed through. Boys like Klay Andrew. They were boys then. But now they are men now. Benedict “Mama-Musa” Wisseh, Blanca Bowman, Benrue Collins, Patrick Arthur, Solomon Siply, Forkay Nippy. And you name the rest. These giants are some of the best ballers to ever walk the face of Liberia. As ball giants when they departed Toledo, they left a big hole. Who would fill it, became the question? I had just come from Liberia. And I landed in Toledo. I didn’t have the slightest idea who all had gone through this City. And I didn't know what they left behind. By the time I found that out. The hole had just swallowed me up! And there’s where James Shannon came into my rescue.
James is a lover of the game. He was also a baller. He may not have played on the level on which some of us played in Liberia. But he had a spirit that kept the game alive in America. In the Toledo Liberian community, there were two ball clubs. Both were owned by Liberians. So the competition was high. There was always a fight for new arrivees. Both teams wanted me. Because I was good. But not as good as the legends that came through before me. Both teams had former Barrolle players and fans. And the last ball club I played ball for prior to departing Liberia, was Mighty Barrolle. So I had some degree of allegiance to the former stars of Barrolle. Each wanted me to play for his ball club. Other people talked to me to play for theirs. But James never talked to me. The League was still far away. So there was no need to hurry. There was plenty of time. We concentrated on indoor rehearsals. Becasue it was the Winter Season. We couldn't play outdoor. And there’s where the campaign began to be waged. My sibling (brother) with whom I was stopping was not a ball enthusiast. He never cared much for the game. So each time I wanted to go to rehearsals, he wouldn’t care. He had other “important” things to do. So I had to find a ride to take me to rehearsals. I called for rides all over. But only James showed up. The other guys reneged on their promises. Excuses. Excuses. And Excuses. That’s all they gave me. I couldn’t say much. Nor could I do much. I was new in town. I didn’t have my own ride. I didn’t have my own ball shoes. So I played in sneakers. And looked up to anyone who would give me a ride. Giving my style of play – very calculative – I could not function properly in sneakers. So I needed the right ball shoes. I needed a whole lot of things also. A regular ride to rehearsals. Was one. And another was a thirst-quencher during and after rehearsals. Since I had no job. And unemployed. I could not do any of those. My pocket power was nonexistent. But I hung in there. I managed with the sneakers. And I caught rides when available.
One day the phone rang. It was James. He spoke with my brother, first. Because my brother answered the phone. My brother passed the phone over to me. James asked me what I was doing. I told him “nothing!” He asked if he could pick me up. I said ask my brother. He did. He got permission. Because, you see, I was stopping with my brother. He was a brother I did not know very well in Liberia. I was too young when he traveled to America. So I had to develop a relationship with him. And the fact he didn’t like the ballgame. And that he was a very private man. I had to be very careful how I invited people to his house. Another thing is. I was taught by my parents to respect the one with whom you live. Especially so, when that person is responsible for your wellbeing. James knew this too. Because he’s been around for a while. He also knew my brother’s ways. Becasue they all lived in the City for a long time. And so he encouraged me to be respectful. That’s why each time he called for me, he spoke with my brother first. James had another thing that intrigued me. He was very particular and punctual! When he says in an hour. That’s exactly what he means. He told me in half-an-hour he would be at my place to pick me up. I got ready. In half-an-hour, he arrived. I hopped in his ride. He pulled off. On our way he told me what was on his mind. He was taking me to Footlocker. Footlocker in America sells sporting goods. I didn’t know all this at the time. I was a new “kid” on the block. We pulled up in the parking lot. He walked out on the driver side. I walked out on the passenger side. Into the mall we went. We entered Footlocker. Then he turned around to me and asked me to choose any pair of ball shoes I liked. Metaphorically speaking, I was knocked out of my shoes. I didn’t know what to do. Coming from Liberia one tends to be very honest. In this case, I speak for my generation and myself on the honesty question. I didn’t want to get something beyond his pocket-power. So I walked around the store for more than thirty minutes. Still I could not choose a pair. He realized I was confused. So he jumped in. He pointed to one pair. He asked me if it were good. He knocked me out again. The pair he pointed to was the most expensive one on the shelf. I saw it before. But I didn’t want to choose it. After all, I was not the one paying for it. He asked me if I wanted it. I stuttered. Soon I said, Okay, I’ll take it.” He told the guy to fit me in the pair. He did. It was my size. He paid for it. And we walked out.
Let me tell you a little more about James. He's a “bluff” boy. He keeps everything around him clean and arranged. His music is always the latest. If you ask me what kind of man he is in terms of music, I have to say he is an African cultural nationalist. He dresses “GQ.” His speech is perfect. He speaks the Queen's Language excellently. He loves to lecture. He lectured me until we got to a restaurant. Then he stopped. He asked me in the restaurant. He put up a meal for me. I knocked myself out again. Man! I was so full. Then we left. He dropped me off at my brother’s crib. I mean at my brother’s house. He reminded me of rehearsal the next day. I shook my head. He pulled off.
The next day I was at the rehearsal. And so was he. I got dressed. Everybody did. Soon everyone recognized how sharp I was. I was dressed like a World Cuper. From toe to head I was sharp. They did not need to wonder. They knew I wasn’t working. So I could not afford such expensive gears. They knew James bought them for me. And they were right! He always bought the best. And I was in the best! Right there and then, the message went home to everyone - James recruited me on his Ball Club. But they were wrong! James had not spoken with me on that yet. He always encouraged me to keep on practicing. To keep my skills sharped. Soon indoor rehearsals were over. We slipped outdoor. The weather had changed. It was warmer. And that’s the time I was waiting on. In Liberia we play outdoor. Not indoor. So I was happy to come into the sun. There where it all began.
One day James came on the practice ground. He had a clean and brand new outdoor ball shoes. He called me. And gave it to me. It was my size. I slipped them on. And my spirit was lifted. I knew now I had to prove my skills. No more excuses. James had made it easier for me. I warmed up. The whistle went off. And the rehearsal began. We completed it. I scored four beautiful goals. All from long distance. I shot from 30 yards. And it freaked everybody out. It was my specialty. And I knew it too. So I had fun. The outdoor league was a week away. Everybody expected me to make a decision. Who would I play for? I selected James’ Ball Club. The other guys went berserk. It created bad feelings. Both Clubs became bitter “enemies” in the same League. Soon they played against each other. And that was the worse of my balling days. The bitterness between both ball clubs became uglier. But I scored the winning goals. And we beat the other guys.
Anyway, the situation of two ball clubs fighting each other passed on.
Life continued. I still had not gotten a job. My brother moved to America when I was about five years old. He could not get me a job. He did his best. But it couldn’t work. One of the reasons for his failure was that he was too much a private person. He kept too much to himself. So he didn’t know too many people that could help. We were at home when the phone rang. This time I picked it up. It was James on the line. He asked to speak to my brother. That’s the kind of guy James is. He respected my brother. Every time he wanted me to go somewhere with him, he sought my brother’s permission. Even though I was in my mid twenties, he gave my brother the utmost respect. My brother passed the phone over to me. Then James told me to get ready in few minutes. And I did. He came over. I hopped in his ride. And down the street we went. We got at a mall. The mall was huge. He parked in the Lot. We walked in. And soon he was talking to this White dude. He called me over. He introduced me as a great baller. My head was so big I kept smiling. And then the White guy asked me if I wanted to start working that same day. I didn’t know what to say. Should I say yes? Or say no? If I said no. The dude could change his mind the next day. And if I said yes. I wasn’t ready to start that very moment. James helped me out. He told the dude I would start the next day. The dude asked me to report to work the next day at 7am. The next day indeed I was there. On the dot. I began work. I filled up the necessary papers. And became fully employed. I was a member of the working class.
My first paycheck came in. I invited James to breakfast. He came over. I asked him what he wanted to eat. He asked me the same question. I said, “I am asking the question.” And he said the same thing. I tried to overcome him. But he kept insisting. So I gave in. He bought the food. While eating I gave him my “I got a dream” speech. I thanked him. And expressed appreciation. Right there James said something to me that I have never forgotten. And what he said to me is the driving force behind this Post. Initially, it was not a big thing to me. It sounded like nothing to me. Few years later, it began to take shape. I could feel the weight. In fact, as I opine this Article, I have discovered that James gave me the heaviest and most critical responsibilities on earth. And I didn’t know it at the time.
This is what James said to me verbatim. “Thomas!” I said, “Yes!” He drew his chair closer to mine. And looked me straight in the eye and said. “You do not owe me anything. What I did by finding you a job is what somebody did for me. And that person told me not to pay him anything. The only pay the person required of me is for me to do the same thing for another person in need of help. And this is why I have done what I did for you. Remember, somebody helped me. That gives me the opportunity to help you. That person asked me to pass this on. By doing so, we all can help each other. Go on, Thomas! I have passed it on to you. And please, do not shy away from this responsibility. Help others! And when you have done so, then you will have paid me back.” After James told me this, I looked him in the eye and said to myself quietly. "Is this guy serious?" He didn’t hear me. “That’s all he wants from me? – to help someone else?” It was too simple a task for me. At least thats' what I thought. Until now! Little did I know how heavy it was. Soon I was in his shoes. I was trying to help someone like he did for me.
James Shannon changed everything for me. His appeal made the difference on me. It was like giving someone an assignment. And that assignment has continued to live with me. It changed my life entirely.
Today in Liberia I go from village-to-village, city-to-city, town-to-town, helping people. I feel like a Peace Corp. Each time I get in these areas, James Shannon’s appeal re-echoes in my head. Sometimes it appears to me he is somewhere nearby watching my every move. And each time someone I helped comes back and says, “Thank you, Thomas !” I feel I have done what James requests of me. Although it is an ongoing effort, James Shannon’s appeal has become one of the bedrocks of my current volunteer service to Liberia. Living in Liberia puzzles a lot of people. But James Shannon is not puzzled. He knows he planted a seed. And that seed has grown. Thanks to him. He is a shining example for all Liberians to follow.
Wherever James is, I say Hi-James! I wish you all the best. Your message to me is not lost! It goes on! Long life and prosperity! May your dream for people to help each other flourish and become a giant monument of hope for everyone. Glory to your name, "Boy-Ju!"
I am Thomas G. Bedell coming to you from on the “ground” in Liberia!
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment