Parties exploded across Durban last week when Edmonton withdrew its bid to host the 2022 Commonwealth Games, leaving this glittering jewel of the east coast the sole bidder.
It should be said, though, that Durban people have a reputation for partying first and asking questions later. Often there is no time to even ask questions because we have to move on to the next party or risk falling behind. Nobody wants to be the Arsenal of the party circuit.
But on Wednesday, as I raced like a degenerate white Lewis Hamilton from braai to soiree to crack house, partying my ass off, I began wondering if Edmonton’s wussing out was more of a curse than a blessing. Had these Canadians just handed us a poisoned chalice? Was I onto something? I had been smoking poison and drinking from chalices all night. Did any of this really matter? Why was I having these thoughts? Why was I having any thoughts at all?
I shook my head violently. It fell off and rolled under a table. A woman dressed like Peter Pan – it might have been Peter Pan dressed as a woman – retrieved it and screwed it back on.
“Thank you,” I said. I was going to make a cheap joke about giving me head but she said her darling Wendy was waiting for her and disappeared through an open window. Might have been Tinkerbell, but that wouldn’t explain the … forget it. For the record, I don’t have a problem with fairies or lesbians.
I might, however, have a problem with Canadians. The ones from Edmonton, in particular. So why did you withdraw your bid for the Games? What was tha’ all aboot, eh? You wanted ’em bad enough when you tossed yer hat into the ring back in whenever it was, diddencha?
Oh, I see. Financial reasons and a global fall in oil prices. Well, that makes it even cheaper to hold oil-based events like women’s wrestling and … that’s about it. As for financial reasons, are you saying you had the money but now you don’t? Where the hell did it go? Do you have a South African in charge of the treasury?
Durban also doesn’t have the money but, unlike you, we don’t put the selfish needs of our own people above something as important as the Commonwealth Games.
Studies have shown that the underclass is less likely to rob and murder others if one of their countrymen wins a gold medal. Our people might have no work or food but they do have civic pride. And that’s what important here.
This seems to be turning into a letter. Well, it’s too late to stop now.
I think you’ve played us, Edmonton. I think you’re like the cash-strapped drunk who sits at the back of an auction raising his hand on every bet, forcing the serious bidders to pay more than they would otherwise have done. Sure, it’s fun. But you’re older than I am and you should know better.
Glasgow hosted the games last year and it cost them 575-million quid. Or, as our president would say, seventy-eleven trillion, nine hundred and thousand billion rand.
So what you’ve done is effectively bankrupted Durban. Where the hell are we going to get that kind of money from? We were bargaining heavily on you winning the bid. We can’t pull out now. That would leave nobody wanting to host the 2022 games. Queen Elizabeth would have a conniption, Charles would become king and we’d all have to burn our cars and travel everywhere by camel.
Be honest, Canada. You don’t really want to be in the Commonwealth, do you? Half your country speaks French and the other half hardly speak at all because if they open their mouths their tongues freeze solid and their teeth crack and fall out of their heads.
So it is left to us to hold high the flag of the Commonwealth. And let me tell you something, Edmonton. The opening ceremony of the first-ever African games, performed by torchlight, gas lamps and bits of burning wood, will be the best ever.