Togo's yo-yo no-go

There's not much to report that hasn't already been reported about last Friday's machine-gun attack on the bus transporting the Togo national football team to their base in Cabinda for the Africa Cup of Nations.

We know that Cabinda is a particularly volatile region of Angola, itself hardly the most stable country in the world. We know that, during the 30-minute attack, the bus driver, Togo's press officer and an assistant coach were killed, and that goalkeeper Kodjovi Obilale remains in intensive care.

We might ask why Angola was deemed a suitable host for the tournament - but, in truth, how many countries in Africa are genuinely safe and stable? We can wonder why the team was travelling by bus rather than air.

We can also speculate as to the exact reasons behind the team's initial desire to withdraw from the tournament, and their subsequent about-turn. And about the Togolese government's last-minute request to reinstate the team after insisting over the weekend that they come home. And about why the Confederation of African Football summarily turned that request down having initially made every effort to persuade Togo to stay.

No doubt there has been much politicking behind the scenes, and many assurances made. In all honesty, that interests me not a jot. I have a broad understanding of the wider political and ethical issues involved. I understand the desire to defy such acts of violence to ensure the terrorists don't 'win'. (Whatever that means; I rather think the rebels have made their point already.)

However, when you have spent half an hour cowering under your seat while unseen terrorists take pot-shots at your bus - not something many of us (thankfully) have ever experienced - I would think the natural reaction of "I'm a footballer, get me out of here!" would be perfectly understandable to any sensible person.

Apparently not. I have seen/heard some comments - from, admittedly, a very small minority - criticising the Togolese players for going home. Frequently these have been couched in terms of higher moral principles: the show must go on; honour the dead; after all, the Munich Olympics didn't stop after the massacre there.

Hogwash.

Three dead. Others injured. Everyone traumatised. I know footballers are often accused - often with considerable justification - of being completely removed from reality. But not this time. If you or I lost were involved in a traumatic incident where someone died, would we be expected to show up for work the following day as if nothing had happened? Of course not.

Whatever the personal and political reasons resulting in the Togo team's departure, who are we to criticise? This isn't some philosophical hypothesis - it is a reality, involving real people with genuine emotions and fears. The bottom line is: is football really that important when the players involved have witnessed death first-hand?

I think not.