As most of you narrate fairy tales on how your dads, elder brothers or male family members and friends introduced you to football or soccer, mine is summed up as a night-time accident back in 2008. A signature after every assignment was completed made my dad a silent companion as I did my homework, call it late nights with dad. To kill time, as he sat and waited, he read my textbooks or stared into the room from wall to ceiling perhaps thinking because that's what grown ups do. At times maybe hoping I turn out to be a God-fearing, successful child who is a law abiding citizen. This day though, he chose to tune into a football match broadcasted on one of the cable channels. Which team is yours dad? I asked. He cleared his throat and answered, Chelsea. Confused but curious I asked again, Of the two, which team is Chelsea? The gentlemen dressed in blue t-shirts, he responded. I support the ones in red t-shirts then, I said sarcastically. Ideally he would be resistant and firm in insisting I should do my homework and stop watching TV but in this instance, he flowed with my questioning, overlooked me watching TV and from time to time reminded me I have homework to do. With this he indirectly introduced me to football watching, made me a fan and turned me into an addict. Should I thank him or should I be mad at him for giving me a roadmap to a world full of emotions, history and memories? To that I just don't know because we have relived this moment over and over again with World Cups', Athletics, European football Competitions and now for the first time, we did AFCON. For games that came earlier than 8pm, I briefed him on the full time results, tactical approaches and players who impressed. To date, I tend to think I excelled in that punditry role just because, my mom began gaining interest in watching the game itself. She loves the sport but limited her indulgence to updates on full-time scores and five minutes of highlights. AFCON being a competition known to have little or no patience for under-performing players, everyone was there by merit. An intriguing trail of footballers in some teams made some ties look a little pedestrian at times and tempted fans into bragging of wins they hadn't achieved, yet, forgetting, a draw is only good if you win it. Each game was a personality on its own; good work, fortune and planning made teams move from stage to stage with a win, draw or at times a loss. The competition burst into life in the round of 16. Players had acclimatized to the weather, shaken of some of the beginners pressure and rediscovered their energy, fluency and accuracy in the general play. The patterns of play no longer cautious, as in group stages, but those of urgency. Small teams were showing off strongly and causing big teams problems. They hadn't been dining at the top table thus far but they didn't rule out the possibility of this being the start. Clearly these teams knew these were games of consequence. Compact plays and excellent passes condemned spectators to waiting for a spark from somewhere that would lead to a save. They were matches between impressive attacks and shaped defences. Addicted to the drama, we kept coming back game after game long after our favourites had been eliminated. With each piece of play into pockets of space in progressive areas of the opponents side of the pitch, we silently prayed and held our breathes, hoping it would end with the ball in the back of the net. At times our manifestations were rewarded and we marvelled at the exceptional skillset displayed. Other times the ball would put up a show and delight in our misery as it went everywhere but in the net. It would gladly ricochet into the goalkeepers gloves for a save, fly high into the Yaoundé sky or rattle the cross bar or the upright. With even scores, missed opportunities and a race against the clock, frustration kicked in and the players mental strength and fortitude was tested by extra time and penalties. Each and everyone more than played their part; be it the players, their technical staff or the fans but Senegal cracked the code and programmed their play to continental victory and it was a career defining moment for all of them. But this wasn't by accident, it was them reaping returns from years of investment into their local football. For almost a month, football was the ultimate passport to Cameroon and our entertainment spaces were coated with ungodly pressure. Eye test alone proved the continent has this aura of untapped potential. Statistics elevated the belief that if we channel our resources effectively and efficiently, great things happen and when anyone follows their dream, we start to see something magical. Now that it's all over, everyone takes a break and marvels at what was created right before our eyes till the next time.