Have you ever ignored the signs? Those early moments when something could have been special, but you kept your distance? Maybe you told yourself it was just casual. Just a talking stage.
Then they start showing up. Really showing up. Making effort. Planning things. Remembering details. And suddenly, you find yourself noticing the things you overlooked before, the features that weren’t “sexy” but somehow became exactly what you needed. You catch yourself smiling at the thought of a future together. You attempt to use your name with their surname.
That’s when you know Cupid has struck.
The joy was so visible on my face in February 2024 that I bought breakfast for my entire team at work. I was glowing, planning the future out loud, imagining how correct everything would be.
But I didn’t know hot breakfast was waiting for me.
When You Wear Your Heart (and Jersey) on Your Sleeve
I wore my Nigerian jersey on February 11th. My friends and I decided to gather to watch the AFCON final. We were confident. This was the final for the taking.
Why wouldn’t we be? We’d already beaten Ivory Coast 1-0 in the group stage. We defeated the hosts on their own soil. Stanley Nwabali had become our hero after we took down South Africa in the semi-final. That’s when the joy really hit me. I got to work the next day and bought meals for my colleagues and anyone who was interested. That’s how joyous I was.
His physical features that weren’t “sexy,” his positioning, his quiet confidence, were suddenly what everyone was hyping. Victory was certain. What could go wrong?
Game Time! We had our drinks and the usual banter. Troost-Ekong headed us into the lead in the 38th minute. The room exploded. This was our moment. Naija no dey carry last.
But Ivory Coast kept pressing the Super Eagles. Kessié rose unmarked to head home their equalizer in the 62nd minute. The room went quiet.
Then the 81st minute. Sébastien Haller met Adingra’s cross with an instinctive flick. Ivory Coast 2, Nigeria 1.
The final whistle blew, and I just stood there. Stunned. Silent.
The Silent Drive Home
Driving home, I was just quiet. My guy in the passenger seat knew better than to talk. For a while, I couldn’t even think straight. Then it started, the replays in my head. That move in the 67th minute. Why didn’t he pass? That defensive lapse on their second goal. The player should have done better. We should have done better.
In the moment when you chop hot breakfast like this, you can’t think clearly. You might want to play “Thunder Fire You” by Ric Hassani on repeat. You might want to delete their number, block them, act like it never happened. Every emotion is sharp, every disappointment feels personal. If you are like me you say to yourself “No, be your fault. Na me mess up.”
But with time, you calm down. And if you have good friends, real ones, not the type that will just hype your madness, you’ll reflect clearly on it. Not through the lens of generalisations and bitterness with “all men are scum” or “all light-skin women are the same.” More objective reflection.
It’s hard to be objective when you just chop breakfast. I know. The pain is real; the disappointment is choking you. But objectivity is the only way to actually win next time.
The Small Changes That Matter
We didn’t lose because of one catastrophic failure. The major problems weren’t external forces. It was the small, internal adjustments we failed to make. Better marking on that Kessié goal. Fresher substitutions. Clinical finishing. Minor changes that could have brought lasting happiness.
Ivory Coast understood this. After barely scraping through the group stage, they didn’t cry about bad luck. They looked inward, made small tactical shifts, and transformed their campaign. They became the first host nation to win AFCON since Egypt in 2006.
Sometimes the breakfast you buy for others comes back cold. Sometimes you do everything right and still lose. That’s life. That’s love. That’s football.
The Champion’s Mindset
Football teaches us about love in unexpected ways. The talking stage can become real if both sides show up. The features you overlook are often what you need most. Being the favourite means nothing if you don’t execute.
Most importantly, it teaches us that hot breakfast will come. But you don’t stop believing. You don’t stop wearing your jersey with pride.
We lost to Morocco at the 2026 AFCON too. But as true Naija, we still hope that next time, we’ll win. That’s the mindset of a champion. Refusing to let heartbreak define you.
There will be another tournament. Another chance. And when that moment comes, you’ll be ready, wiser, stronger, and still foolish enough to believe the story will end differently.
You’ll carry the heartbreak not as defeat, but as proof you dared to dream. That’s what makes us champions. Not the trophy. The audacity to keep believing, even after you don chop breakfast.
