The current squad aside, Liverpool has always been a big team.

Ask anyone out of Manchester, London or Milan … if there’s one club for the big occasion it’s Liverpool.

Against the ‘small’ teams? Not so much.

I can’t begin to fathom the reasons for this. I just get pissed off watching our former players now playing in Spain, particularly in midfield.

The range of passing Javier Mascherano displayed on the weekend against Malaga was unbelievable. He’s got all the moves now, pinging it sixty metres from deep, playing the short one-twos; how did we lose a player like that? Barcelona, eh? Oh.

And Xabi Alonso. Oh Xabi, the transfer which saw us fall from glory like a drunken slut on 6-inch heels on a sinking cruise-liner in a hurricane. Where did he go? Madrid.

I see a pattern. And what do we have left? Steven Gerrard, who I believe we should have sold when Chelsea came calling four seasons ago. Oh, there’s also Lucas and a couple of children. Yeah, with a midfield like that, no shocks that we aren’t winning anything.

And don’t get me started on the ‘strikers’. Andy Carroll joined MySpace last weekend; he tried to join Twitter but he missed. Seriously though, this team is one of the worst I’ve seen in years, and something drastic needs to happen. What? I don’t know.

I just know it begins with regime change, and not on the bench as is usual. I mean on the field … its time to put some legends to pasture, and start anew with fresh faces.

And by fresh I don’t mean Jonjo fucking Shelvey.

Sigh.

Now that I’ve got your attention, I’ve got something to say.

I’m all for empowerment. In fact, I believe every Zimbabwean, ‘youth’ or otherwise, should have the means and opportunity to better themselves. But not this way.

I’m not a farmer. I don’t know the first thing about farming, and I’m sure if I tried my hand at growing anything other than pot plants (get it?) I’d fail miserably. I don’t want a farm.

I’m not a miner. What would I do with a mining claim? In fact, what the hell would I do with shares in a mining company, anyway? Just because it’s foreign-owned means they have to be stripped of their shares just so some apparatchiks can set up a fake trust (in lieu of the existing, community-run one) and continue enriching themselves?

I come from Mhondoro, but I don’t want any Ngezi platinum interests.

The only way to empower me is to give me a loan facility, or provide backing for commercial bank loans, and let me do my thing. As a ‘youth’ you know I don’t have any damn collateral, and if you wanna empower me, either you collect the funds and disburse them yourselves, or you back me when I go to the bank.

Lend me the money at reasonable terms, and I’ll use MY skills and start my OWN locally-owned company to compete regionally and internationally. I don’t want you to buy/extort/grab a share of someone else’s business. Help me start mine.

That’s true empowerment. Give me the means to do my thing, and I will make my own significant contribution to the economy. Otherwise, you’re wasting your time.

Show me the money.

So I went for a jog at lunchtime. No, that’s not true. I meant to go for a jog at lunchtime. I made it out my gate.

I stretched, stood around for five minutes, then came back into the house and resumed position on the couch.

How do I explain this behaviour? I can’t. I tried, I really did. I dressed like Sports Billy. I did the necessary stretchings, all the obligatory warm-ups and cool-looking stuff you think sporty people should be doing.

But I didn’t jog. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. This is the perfect time to get fit, as I’ve gained a little girth over the Hols, and I’m on leave for the month so really have nothing else to do.

Wait, I know. I’ll try again now. It’s cooler now. There’s a nice moist breeze. Could even be rain later. Wait, did I say rain?

Who wants to get rained on? Not me. Let me see.

I’ll decide in an hour.

So here we are, then. On the other side. I guess we made it through.

We survived the sudden thunderstorms and the wet roads. We lived through the binge-drinking and over-eating. We did the partying, the sleepless nights and one-night stands, the hangovers and the bangovers.

And now it’s 2012, and we’re all broke as fuck.

Seriously, what is it about the Holidays that makes us spend like we’re millionaires? It’s all a trick I tell you, they mind-fuck us into spending more than we can, then count the profits as we die inside at the beginning of Jan.

Like seriously, whose idea was it to put a CABS swipey-thing in the Keg? Goddamnit, even if you run out of cash on New Year’s Eve, you still think oh wait, there’s a bit of money in the card, run it waitress, keep running that tab, tequila for err-body and damn the consequences.

Then they swipe your card and BANG go the January groceries, BANG goes any chance you have of surviving your upcoming leave, and BANG goes your iPhone on the verandah floor cos you’ve had too much to drink and now you’re fucking sloppy and careless and the screen cracks and will cost $150 to replace.

And weddings. What’s with December and weddings? Cos whether you have nice spiffy suits that are less than a month old, you still have to go get a brand new, expensive ensemble, because it’s someone’s goddamn wedding. I did.

So now I have a $350 suit I didn’t need; how am I gonna pay for it?

Slowly. Very slowly.

We are, by nature, selfish creatures.

As human beings, nothing means more to us than our own well-being, prosperity and sexual satisfaction. That’s who we are.

But there comes a time in everyone’s life when we have to decide exactly what we stand for. Our principles are what guides us, and the biggest challenge (or ‘chaleynj’ a la ZBC) is defining exactly what those principles are.

Here in Zimbabwe, the time of octogenarian leadership has ended. This is our chance to define our own futures, this is when we grasp the opportunity to make a difference, this is how we forge our legacies.

We cannot let the Kasukuweres and the Chapfikas lead us to folly and ruination. We have to take over the conversation and start talking not about grabbing companies and buildings from foreigners, but about how we can leverage our ‘sovereniti’ whilst attracting more FDI.

We have to decide if we want to be led (and managed) by discretided charlatans and bootlicking sycophants whose only claim to fame is their ability to kiss ass.

I’ve decided. I’m tired of this liberation fixation.

Fuck this shit.