WeeklySA_AdminINCONGROUS:Former Chiefs midfield maestro’s uncle was a Bhakabhaka for life
By Ali Mphaki
It’s a banana ball which even the “King of Soccer” himself Dr Bra J Matsilele Sono, given his immense talents, was not to be able to execute with the precision he was reputed for. With more than a thousand goals in his glistering career, one set piece that will forever elude the Jomo Cosmos boss was to woo his siblings to support his team – at the expense of the club they grew up following – their late father Eric “Scara” Sono’s side – Orlando Pirates.
“I’ve given up.’ “They just don’t understand why should they ditch their loyalties to the Amabhakabhaka in favour of Ezenkosi,” says Sono in his straightforward manner. Sounds a bit Karamazovian, but not uniquely a Dr Sono poser. For not far away in Mohlakeng near Randfontein on the West Rand, a similar script had been playing itself out, in this instance involving the family of Sono’s former contemporary; the late incredible Kaizer Chiefs midfield maestro Pule “Ace” Ntsoelengoe; a player who shares the same reverence as Sono, and with the knack to trigger the ‘who is best’ kinda Christiano Ronaldo versus Lionel Messi, or Pele vs Maradona debate between the two.
What is a given, however, is that Ntsoelengoe’s immortalized name will forever be etched in the annals of Kaizer Chiefs history – thanks to the Aaaaacceeee as the prodigious Pule’s nickname would reverberate around the stadiums whenever he was in possession.
It is therefore highly presumptous or the height of folly to deduct that everyone who shares the Ntsoelengoe surname would therefore be a Chiefs supporter. And so it was with Ace’s uncle, staunch Orlando Pirates supporter and of scrupulous care with appearance Lucas Tsantsi “Bab” Ntsoelengoe. A motor mouth in tsotsitaal, he is even credited by Unisa linguistics for his part in compiling their dictionary of the lingua franca.
“Kyk Charlie,” he would say,
“I’ve been a Pirates supporter from ’59 (proudly showing us his faded membership card as his badge of honour and an everlasting memento) and just because my nephew (has) joined rival Chiefs in 1970 then I must switch allegiances. I’m not like that Nkgonne. I’m not a rebel without a cause,” he said.
If when you love somebody or something you got to let the whole world know about it, that the senior Ntsoelengoe was smitten with Pirates was evident for even the blind to see. His favourite white Valiant ‘68 was a moving Orlando Pirates billboard, its appearance on the streets greeted with a respect and an affection verging on awe.
Emblazoned on both the front doors of his Valaza is the Pirates’ skull and cross bones logo, the seat covers are also in Pirates colours, not forgetting the mats and the huge Bucs sign on the rear window. The joke is that he even slept in Pirates blankets! Ngwana Nkoko, as Ntsoelengoe senior would sometimes refer to you as he spoke, though he fully supported his nephew at Chiefs and was immensely proud of his achievements, was quick to point out that he did not want to risk losing credibility and be a laughing stock in his community in case Ace swopped clubs.
“Imagine die laatie Ace deciding to change teams that would have meant just because I’m his uncle I would have been supposed to follow suit and start following his new club.’ “Did werk nie so Mogadibo,” says Bab matter of-factly using one of his famous trademark words.
Bab’s everlasting love for Pirates was beyond reproach, even though sometimes he would be accused of unnecessarily going against the grain so as to “prove a point” or just to be seen to be “unique”.
For how does he explain a further twist in his life’s tale via his conversion to Methodist when the Ntsoelengoe family in Mohlakeng are traditionally of Anglican folk? “I just like the way they sing Charlie,’ referring to the male group of the denomination, Amadodana aseWesile.
I just couldn’t help it,” is how he would explain his Damascus moment which saw him throwing his weight behind the red-attired Methodists. But what was always fascinating about Bab is that he would never miss an opportunity to let all and sundry know “ek is o’Ace Ntsoelengoe se uncle” (I am Ace Ntsoelengoe’s uncle).
His name dropping, like it happened one evening when thugs wanted to hijack a City Press car – where he was employed as a driver and in company of former editor Len Kalane (in picture) – worked as a charm and persuaded the armed criminals to change their minds and leave them unharmed.
“I even showed them my ID as proof and they believed me,” he used to chuckle when relating the tale. And while Bab was pleading for his life with the scumbags, his companion Kalane was “shivaz”, a tsotsitaal way of saying “helluva scared” or shaking like a leaf.
The mention Ace’s name may have saved his life than night, but nothing short of a miracle would have converted Bab’s blood from his black and white – those amateurish would be criminals included. He was a Bhakabhaka for life!
*Ntsoelengoe who was also a fitness instructor died of Covid complications last May, aged 85.
