“Chale, Ghana boys! Where my money dey?”
Bursting through the front door with a smug grin plastered across his face, Justice was in high spirits.
Of course, after watching Nigeria beat Ghana 2-1 in the Unity Cup the previous, a delighted Justice was the least anyone could expect. The team had made their way to Brentford’s stadium the previous night, all in high spirits, expectant of a great game and atmosphere. While Justice and his girlfriend Damilola had been accompanied by Sahjara and Benoy for Team Nigeria, Ines had joined the cousins and Thomas-Muller Adjei, better known as TMA, for Team Ghana.
The atmosphere had been incredible, with both sets of fans enjoying close to half an hour of back-to-back hits from both countries before kick-off. As far as the match was concerned, however, Team Nigeria was the happier of the two, racing into a two-goal lead before the first half came to an end. While the Black Stars pulled one back in the second half, it wasn’t enough.
The Ghanaian quartet had been pretty confident of victory, wagering with the solitary Nigerian that their team would win. So before he stepped into the studio, they were all moodily anticipating Justice to make his presence known and instantly demand his money, the loud personality he was.
Of course, he did not disappoint.
“Oya, my Ghana boys! Where my money dey? Time to pay up, let’s go! Nigeria 2, Ghana 1! I don win bet!”
Mickey, Simba, and Donald, all slouched at the table in defeat, groaned in unison. “Fuck’s sake, man,” Mickey grumbled. “I was dreading this all morning.”
“Honestly,” Donald agreed, rolling his eyes. “I blame Otto Addo for this. Making dumbass subs after 80 minutes, what the fuck was he on about?”
“Abeg, abeg, pay me what you owe me! Don’t act like you forgot!” Justice continued, singing the lines from Rihanna’s ‘Bitch Better Have My Money’ with the victorious grin never leaving his face.
Simba reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty-pound note, while Donald reluctantly slid a tenner across the table. Mickey hesitated before fishing out his share with a scowl.
“Ahh, thank you, thank you, it was a pleasure doing business with you.” Justice turned to Thomas-Muller, who was setting up cameras for the day, pretending not to hear him. “TMA, abeg, no do like you never hear ooo. Pay me what you owe me!”
Thomas-Muller turned to him, sighed and rolled his eyes, and reached into his pocket before walking over and placing his note on the table.
“Boss, you are so lucky Otto Addo is a shit coach,” Simba grumbled. “Anka if he changed Jordan in time, we would have equalized, and probably would’ve beaten y’all. No two ways about it.”
Justice, busily pocketing the money, grinned at his friend. “Burna Boy said it best: if you no make am, you go explain taya. Evidence too no go dey. Abeg, coulda woulda shoulda no dey run clock back. We win. Bragging rights are mine for the foreseeable future! We enjoyed, sha: me, Dami, Ben and Sahjee. Proper enjoyment, you get? The two goals, every tackle, pure vibes!”
Sahjara, leaning against a desk, chuckled and strode over to give Justice a high five. “I know that’s right! Team Nigeria was unstoppable. The vibes, the goals, the whole night—perfection. Sorry, Ghana boys, you tried, but Team Naija ruled last night!”
While the four guys moaned once again, Ines, who sat cross-legged on a chair with a notepad, cheekily grinned before wading into the conversation.
“Oh, come on, lads, it was just a friendly. Can we move on? It wasn’t that deep, you know.”
The room froze. Mickey, Simba, Donald, and Justice all turned to her, their stares all intense and united in their disbelief. Sahjara simply shook her head and stifled a giggle, knowing her pal and colleague simply wanted to stir a hornet’s nest.
Donald narrowed his eyes and pointed at her, his voice deadpan. “Miss Ines Carpenter. Never. Say. That. Again. Nigeria-Ghana is life or death. You don’t get it.”
Justice nodded in agreement. “Exactly, young lady. It is blood, sweat, and bragging rights. This isn’t no Sunday kickabout, love. You saw the atmosphere last night, it’s not a joke ting!”
Ines giggled. “I knew that would touch you lot. Mission accomplished.”
“Thanks for nothing, Ines,” Simba muttered.
Benoni, lounging in a corner with a protein shake, smirked. “Personally, I’d have paid to see both teams lose somehow. Nigeria, Ghana—same difference. Offence fully intended.”
“Abeg, ignore him. He’s still hurt that we kicked them out of the AFCON semis,” Justice mocked while shooting him a playful glare.
“And you guys went on to lose in the final,” Benoni scoffed. “So what was the point?”
Ash Clovez and Magnum, meanwhile, sat quietly at the far end of the table. Sahjara noticed how quiet they were and smirked. They were dealing with their own loss, as Trinidad & Tobago lost 3-2 to Jamaica in the other game.
“Oi, Ash, Magnum, you two are quiet. Still hurting over that Jamaica loss?” she asked slyly.
Ash Clovez sighed. “Please, don’t remind us, Sahjara. We know the Reggae Boyz did us dirty. We don’t need your salt on the wound.”
Magnum muttered, “Yeah, man. Let us heal in peace. And take solace in the fact that at least we didn’t bet on winning, like these dickheads.”
Mickey shot him a dirty look while Sahjara snickered. “You definitely would’ve bet on a win if a Jamaican was here, you pagan!”
Simba stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I always laugh whenever Mickey calls someone a pagan. Just so fucking funny!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Sahjee, abeg, play me Asiwaju!” Justice called, the smug smirk returning to his face as he marched to his table. “I never dey spare you boys. Today, you go collect! You think sey I forget? The way you boys were playing that Ivorian song… what’s the name again… ‘Coup Du Marteau’, and doing that twerking dance to vex me last year after the AFCON final? I never forget oo!”
Ines giggled. “Oh, that was peak entertainment! They really took the piss outta you that day, Justice. I just couldn’t stop laughing, the way you all did that dance thing where you were clapping and moving about, and the twerking in front of him. Hah! Best banter video I’ve ever taken! Elite levels of shithousery!”
It was just another morning of banter and funny exchanges between the Perspective team.
***
“Fam, it’s Sunderland all day. No question. Sheffield United? Nah, bruv, they’ve been stinking up the Prem every time they’ve been there. No disrespect to their fans, but they are embarrassing. I’m not tryna see that again.”
“Real talk, Ash. I need Sheffield United to stay in the Championship. Leicester City already traumatized me with their diabolical brand of football. I don’t need to see Sheffield carry the torch, you get me?”
The morning banter and jokes had ended, and now a new episode of ‘Roundtable Preview’ was in session. The topic for discussion was the upcoming Championship playoff final between Sunderland and Sheffield United, and the feeling among the panel was almost unanimous; everyone was tired of seeing the Blades in the Premier League and wanted Sunderland back.
Mickey nodded. “I hear it, man, I hear it. Sheffield have been proper shit the past few seasons they returned to the Prem. They better stay the hell away. I know their fans won’t like this, and no offence to them, but yo, we’re weary of seeing them stink up the place.”
“A hundred percent,” Magnum agreed. “Besides, that derby with Newcastle? Peak entertainment. The North East deserves that energy back at the top level.”
“Yesssssss!” Benoni agreed enthusiastically. “We need that Newcastle-Sunderland chaos back in our lives. The Premier League’s been too quiet without it.”
“Totally,” Justice agreed. “I mean, take out the Merseyside, Manchester and London derbies, and that Tyne-Wear derby is one of the more epic derbies English football has to offer. So yeah, we need Sunderland to come up so the North East can cook!”
Simba, chugging down some water, placed the bottle down. “Well, it’s settled, isn’t it? Nobody wants Sheffield back; they’ll not come and do anything better. Even if Sunderland end up bombing, it’s worth seeing them return for the season. As for the derby, I think we can all agree Newcastle will most likely smash them, but still, it’ll be worth it.”
The panel guffawed. “Yeah, they’re probably gonna get cooked by Newcastle,” Donald snickered. “They’re a beast right now, and they won the Carabao Cup, so yeah, they’ll probably steamroll Sunderland in the derby. But derbies are wild, innit? One moment of magic, and Sunderland could nick it.”
“Facts!” Magnum agreed. “My money’s on Sunderland getting slapped up in the derbies, but derbies? Anything can happen. Don’t be shocked to see one derby upset.”
Mickey nodded as he turned to the camera. “Aight, aight, well, mandem and gyaldem, it’s clear as day, innit? Perspective’s all in for Sunderland! We want the Black Cats back, bringing North East fire. Newcastle might smash them with their big-money squad, but derbies are unpredictable, and we’re here for the chaos. Sheffield United, stay down, no one’s got time for your dull ball. Live chat, what are you telling me? Sunderland or Sheffield United? Drop your takes, smash that like button, keep it locked with Perspective!”
***
“So, everything’s good with you and Amara now?”
It was evening, and the activities for the day were winding up. While some were busily wrapping up their daily duties, others were outside chatting. Simba and Donald were those of the latter group, catching up on the updates in their personal lives.
Donald nodded, looking very pleased. “Yep. Turns out she was just having a tough time and was struggling to open up. She finally did, and it’s all good, I’m a happy brudda.”
Simba nodded. “See? Told you not to get so worked up. See how stressed you would’ve been if you had kept silent?”
Donald grinned. “Yep. Man would be stressed. And also, man wouldn’t have had some sweet milk, you get me?”
Simba rolled his eyes. This was a term Donald and Justice loved to use, low-key, to imply they had played with their busty girlfriends’ assets. “Christ, the way you and Justice always need to remind me you’re enjoying big boobs is exhausting. Honestly.”
Donald shrugged. “Can’t help it, bruv. It is what it is. We like it packed from the front, and you love the bunda. By the way, the whole Neesi ting…”
Simba, upon hearing her name, sighed and folded his arms. “Yeah, she and Pokua are coming over. And yeah, it’s still awkward as fuck. It’s tough, chale. Really tough.”
Donald’s brow furrowed, his mischievous grin turning into a look of concern. “Mmm. It’s peak, man, I can’t lie. You never really got over her, did you?”
Simba shook his head. “Nah, chale. I never did. It was never my desire to end things with her; the parents were just so pissed with me, they forced us apart. And I dunno… she fell in line with it, and…”
He sighed, shrugging helplessly.
“Sorry, bruv,” Donald sympathized. “I can only imagine how awful it feels. But… you don’t think, you could make things work out with her when she comes this time?”
“I don’t know, chale. Whenever she comes around, it’s like some formal HR conversation whenever we speak. I’d love nothing more than for things to work out. But the way things are between us… I dunno, man, I dunno. I can only dream…”
A normal day at the studio for these guys. They really be having a lot of fun, with all the banter and stuff. Simba’s case, though? Pretty unfortunate. Will that change, though?
