Cougar Kiblood

One chilly mid-morning, somewhere is my small cage, I suddenly developed the urge to hit the nearest training ground, either rugby, football or anything that intoxicated with testosterone, muscles and sweat. For some reason I will not say the name because hey, you will definitely put a finger on someone. In my shorts, Mwanaume ni Wallet tee (I put on this thinking is scares team mafisi away) and converse shoes, the said venue was my destination. Prior to this day, I had sworn on the remnants of my romantic feelings that I will only date someone at least 7 years my senior So, despite my muscle craving appetite, I knew that age wise, only the technical bench complimented by hints of potbellies fit my idealism. So sure that here , I was to entertain my eyes and fantasies, nothing more .

COUGARTrust me, nothing beats a body glittering sweat in a rather chilly mid-morning. Since it was training, I could sit as close as possible , at any position and simply try to look like I was there professionally ( I had interviewed one or two guys before) . For close to two hours, I looked, stared, smiled , cringed at collision and appreciated Gods creation . It was a sight to behold . My *thirst was fully catered for . Unfortunately , not all that you plan go actually according to plan . I had intended to leave immediately they went on break for the morning session but this wasn’t to be. As soon as they headed for the early morning training cessation, the head coach, who had spotted me called out .

*Hey Kiblood ! We can’t have a damsel grace our training and leave without saying hi! Come over and let me get you a boyfriend!”

We used to joke a lot on my hate * when it came to dating a player . No hard feelings but when it comes to football, rugby or suddenly the Yegos, maybe a Dunford or Mungai on the bike, you know how many women drool over this asses .Something that I usually find so hard to handle . Not that I haven’t admired a few but it is crazy out there. Back to the field, I have a certain very genuine liking to this coach. He used to encourage me a lot . I remember once when he went out of his way to secure me an interview with a player from another discipline . He encouraged me a lot and taught me too when I was on internship as a sports journalist. So when he called, I strolled directly in to his very warm hug. Few handshakes, catching up then tossed to players for a tête-à-tête.

I was drawn to one of the new signings who had this perfect set of sparkling white teeth . He was tall and black ( I have a thing for black, not dark . Something close to Andrew Amonde) . He seemed interesting and made me comfortable. He looked mature and easy to the eye . Jokingly , I ask the older (professionally) players why they never call to say hallo yet they got my phone number . This young lass( Lets call him Tom) , blurts that if I gave him my phone number , he would call me every single day . My phone number is super easy to memorize. In a chorus all players I knew say it so loud that it send everyone into stitches. We find it a joke. I say my good byes and leave

5.00 pm the very day, I see a new number not in my contacts calling. Its Tom. We find it hilarious that he actually memorized my number . We talk , about his new team of course and why I was at the session during one of the very odd days . This then becomes a routine. Few months down the line , we almost are very close buddies . Its my birthday. As a routine, I don’t go out . He comes up with proposal , to make us dinner . Since its plus a few of his buddies, why not? By the way, all the football and rugby players I have closely interacted are awesome cooks! Even those I have not like Collins Injera have their Instagram account prove this.

Food, drinks, chess game , music laughter , fun ! Oh my I love hanging out with men. Its super freaking awesome. I have so much fun that I almost wish I was a man. Its 1.00am, tricky to leave, so we decide to stay and more games. Not for more hours though before sleep come knocking hard, especially to the guys. I love couches, so I hog it. They somehow manage to find each a place to afford a few winks. The next morning we (not really me because I slept in so much) , I wake up to the best breakfast I haven’t had in ages . We part, them to training , me home .What followed , I don’t know really, one day it’s a coffee date , I find myself attending the training sessions more and more. Nothing sinister but my feelings were starting to warm up to Tom.

One evening at a choma base after the first kiss (those dreamy ones) , I have to help him get some money from the wallet. We had never talked about age. I help him out but his ID number catches my eye. Tome is three darn years my junior. Ohh boy! This is my younger sister’s age mate. My heart suddenly bleeds; my emotions crushed my brain messed. I felt sick! Luckily I was done with my meal. I let him clean up and just hit to the point.

This is a baby in a man’s body. Age is just a number but this caught me by surprise. I almost thought this was my 1000 frog. We talked about it, promised to let it go but it just went never away, at least for me. It’s that bad omen that kept lurking around me. A few weeks later I couldn’t take it anymore. We just had to stop the more than friend’s part. He hasn’t earned a national team call up yet but he surely will. Once drafted in a Kenyan top flight, its as good as a promise of good things to come. I still find time to go and see him train though his 36-26-40 down to earth yellow yellow finds time to keep me company at the grounds .Despite his kissing PHD , the cougar spirit in me is still a sleep .

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