Tragic Description

Happier times for Moustapha Salifou

We've all done it before, and described a defeat as a disaster, a calamity and worst of all - a tragedy. Well shame on all of us.

Those descriptive words are often thrown into match reports and terrace chats to explain losses. With the events of the past few days, it is easy to understand why so many people think they are inappropriate when discussing sporting matters.

Fans are understandably sad for a day or two after a heavy loss but even if you're a hardened supporter who takes every bad pass to heart, you're still back for more in the following days and weeks.

But try explaining the latest "devastating" defeat to the families of the murdered Togo team members. It's fairly obvious what response you'd get.

The horrific incident on that Angolan road has shocked the world - an assistant manager, press officer and coach driver gunned down as they travelled with their national football team to a prestigious tournament. It beggars belief.

One minute you're discussing tactics, briefing the media or simply getting your road bearings and the next you're breathing your last breath. Give me a missed penalty any day.

What must Moustapha Salifou - a squad player at Aston Villa - have been thinking when the bullets reined in on the coach. As he explained in his own words over the weekend, it was like being in a movie.

Despite being a crowd favourite, 'Daddy Cool' Moustapha has been on the fringes of things at Villa park. He's impressed in cup games in claret and blue - notably the 1-0 victory over Slavia Prague - but is yet to start a match in the Barclays Premier League.

Now I'm sure there have been times when he's probably been frustrated with his lack of first team action. But I guarantee his appearance record is of no consequence at the moment.

Instead of burying a chance, he's burying his friends.

It was the great Bill Shankly who once said football was more important than life and death, but he was wrong.

At the end of the day football, no matter how much our petty rivalries escalate it, is just a game.

Those events in Angola pale football, or indeed any sport, into insignificance when compared to the value of a life.