‘I was a nervous wreck on the bench’: Janine van Wyk recalls Banyana’s 2022 Wafcon glory

An extract from 185: The Janine van Wyk Story, as told to Firdose Moonda (Karavan Press) on the day Banyana Banyana became Wafcon champions, beating Morocco 2-1 at Stade Prince Moulay Abdellah in Rabat, Morocco, on July 23 2022:

On the day of the game, I went to almost every single player and told them the things that made them important to this team. I said to them that we would all be part of making history if we won.

Inside the stadium, the atmosphere was incredible. Red flares were burning, drums were banging, people were whistling and cheering for the game to begin. We heard that 60,000 people were trying to get into the grounds, which only had capacity for 45,000. Never had a women’s football game on the continent been so well supported, even though absolutely none of it was for us. The crowd booed and whistled every time we touched the ball.

At halftime, the game was 0-0. Some players looked frustrated, some looked tired and others were just catching their breath. I saw this as my chance to play a part. I went to the players who I thought I had some tips and pointers for from my insights and observations during the game. We knew our biggest strength came from the combination of Jermaine [Seoposenwe] and Hildah [Magaia]. They had one chance in the first half, but the Moroccan goalkeeper Khadija Er-Rmichi was quick off the line and smothered it. If they could get something like that right again, they would put her under pressure and hopefully she would crack.

It happened in the 63rd minute. Jermaine got in ahead of two Moroccan defenders and was all the way at the top end of the box, almost on the touchline. She cut the ball back in for Hildah, who was completely unmarked and could send it into the bottom right corner of the net. She seemed to have an endless amount of time available to her to get the shot right, and she made no mistake. I sprinted so fast down the line to meet her, celebrating at the corner flag, I thought my feet would catch fire. It was an amazing feeling, as if I was playing the game. I felt part of it.

The Moroccans were on the ground, heads in hands, and we felt that maybe we had got on top of them at the right time, but in a final, you can never sit on a one-goal lead. We had to keep going. Eight minutes later, Hildah threaded her way through the defence and chipped the ball over the goalkeeper to score a second goal. I sprinted faster than before and met her at the corner flag again, where I lifted her up to the sky before anyone else could. By the time everyone joined us, I kissed Hildah on the top of her head. We had done the sexy work, and with twenty minutes to go, we had to hold on.

We watched time tick by slowly, and all the while Morocco were coming strong. It was tough out there, and a few of my teammates looked like they were losing energy and making mistakes. I could feel Morocco were gaining the confidence that they could come back. With 10 minutes to go, we lost the ball in our half, and Morocco thundered it up the field. We were caught on the break, gave them too much space, and Rosella Ayane had no one watching her as she pumped the ball into the back of the net. They had a goal. There was still enough time for them to pull another one back. They almost did with two minutes to go.

I was a nervous wreck on the bench. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t watch, but I also couldn’t look away. The fourth official put the board up for an extra time of seven minutes. We all looked at one another in complete disbelief.

Where had seven minutes come from? I pulled my jersey over my head to try and block out some of the crowd noise. We were moments away from winning our first Women’s Africa Cup of Nations (Wafcon) and Morocco were throwing everything at us.

Our defence line held, and they cleared every ball as far away as possible. The seconds ticked by. After those dreaded seven minutes ended and the final whistle blew, I knew what footballing heaven felt like.

I ran to my teammates with tears running down my cheeks and felt like my head and heart would burst with emotion. I grabbed whoever was wearing a green and gold jersey and just squeezed them as tightly as I could. Even as it was happening, I knew it was the best moment of my career. Everything I had been feeling over the period of the tournament poured out of me as I stood on that field. I was happy, excited, broken and hurt all in one. It was the chaos and catharsis of being a champion, and the one thing I was in no doubt about was that I was an African champion. I was present no matter what I had to go through to be there, I was present even though I had not played much in the tournament at all. I was part of it. We were champions.

The players all fell to the floor in celebration, and a lot of them gave thanks to the Lord for getting us to that moment. Then, I wrapped the South African flag around my body, and we went on a lap of honour. There were very few South Africans in the grounds, but we saw them and we saluted them.

On the podium afterwards, Andile [Dlamini], Refiloe [Jane] and I lifted the trophy together. Co-captains. Teammates. Champions.

In the moments after winning, a few of our players had the presence of mind to ask corporate South Africa to step up and support us. Even in our immense joy, we had not forgotten what we needed, and the one thing on all of our minds was a professional domestic league. We used Morocco as our example. Look how far they had come with what they had! We also used ourselves as a yardstick. If, without a structure, we had managed to beat one of the best-funded outfits on the continent, imagine what we could do with a little bit of financial backing. We deserved more than congratulations. We deserved to be taken seriously and given the opportunities that would help us take the next steps.

Winning the tournament makes this seem like an obvious thing to say, but of all the Wafcon competitions I participated in, this was the most electric. It was well marketed and supported, and the stadiums were full for most games, especially for the home team. Compared to other editions of the event, here, every single facility was top class to the point of being luxurious. We felt we were being treated like real professionals, which I am sure also impacted the way we performed. Morocco put themselves forward as the leading hosts in Africa, who knew how to treat touring sides. It wasn’t a surprise that they have been selected to host so many other events, including being co-hosts for the 2030 World Cup. They thoroughly deserve that right.

• 185: The Janine van Wyk Story, as told to Firdose Moonda is available in bookshops from August 11. Pre-orders can be placed at Karavan Press: karavanpress.com.

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