A lot of theories, let alone anger from the Zambian football fans all around why Micho lost it.
A few steps back into some chapters of Zambian football history gives us a clear lecture on why Zambia lost in Botswana and exactly what Micho needs to do to turn the tables around.
It’s not yet too late. He just needs to swallow an apple of pride stuck on his throat and succeed or he forgets about taking Zambia anywhere.
Here now is what Micho keeps lacking:
It was the first match Zambia was playing after the Gabon air crash disaster in 1993.
The Independence Stadium was drenched in tears while the atmosphere was pregnant with anticipation and redemption for a lost hope and a future buried a few meters away from the stadium.
A bolt from the blue, Morroco took an early lead just like Botswana did in Francis town, another national mourning was imminent just a few months after burying the boys who had perished off the coast of Gabon.
If Zambia lost, that would have meant missing out on qualification to the AFCON, and here is a demonstration of what Micho didn’t have in his squad.
Kalusha Bwalya carrying the hopes of a Nation metamorphosized into a lunatic, a brutal asshole who understood the pain of a thousand bleeding hearts packed in the stadium. Great Kalu dropped into a free role and spread his busy body across the field like leaves under a storm, a busy body, and a hopeful mind.
Zambia’s coffin of hope looked closed and going six feet down but the Skipper now angry and hungry kept scratching the inside of the coffin with his tireless and ruthless runs. He could be brought down by the rough Moroccans but he kept standing and applauding his teammates encouraging them to raise their game.
As the chants of Lwisha Lwisha Lwisha grew louder in the stands, came the hour, came the moment. A bone-breaking tackle from a careless Moroccan defender brought the sweaty and panting skipper down at the edge of the box and he took responsibility on his shoulders.
He stepped forward with a sting, buoyance, and poised poison. As he moved a few steps behind the ball, the adrenaline in the knees and joints of every Zambian in the stadium and those listening on the radio from across the butterfly-shaped nation kept rising. The nation went cold, numb, and half dead.
The veteran Skipper calculated just the right weight to put behind the ball at the right angle and he produced some rocket science of football magic.
He wrapped his educated sweet left foot round the ball and the ball obeyed. It swung into the top right corner of the Moroccan net with shire wickedness leaving the goalkeeper rooted in a ghost posture.
This was the only element lacking in the team as Zambia went down early in Francis Town. The team lacked leadership, experience, and inspiration.