(With the somber tunes of the African Flute playing in the background for emotional effects)
My spirit is broken.My body is in pain. I have sewed sackcloth over my skin and buried my brow in the dust. My face is red with weeping and deep shadows ring my eyes. For I am a man in deep sorrow, I am a man in great despair. Sadness has filled my heart and I wonder if I can survive these trying times. The news of his death hit me hard like an unexpected slap. I am in mourning. I am in pain. These are the times that I need a shoulder to cry on for I’ve lost a hero and a mentor. He brought happiness to many who got to know him. His intelligence took the world by surprise, his accuracy was baffling.
His prowess did impress many though his methods were foreign to them. Not many expected him to move on to the next world so soon, not many expected him to be called to glory in such a short space of time. It’s true that the good die young but he’s gone too soon. I wish I could write him a ballad, a ballad of a fallen soldier, a ballad for the world’s greatest football pundit, a ballad for a mighty warrior. But I’m no Shakespeare, neither am I a Chinua Achebe…..and yes I’m not a Phil Ofori, they can write him a Ballad, mine is a simple mind and I can only write a plain tribute. The world mourns his departure, the departure of Paul the Octopus.
Paul the Octopus, da yie, Paul the Octopus, damirifa due, Paul the Octopus, God be with you till we meet again in the next life where mollusks are forever young.
[A minute silence for Paul the Octopus………………May his soul rest in perfect peace] Read more…