Before long, a lanky, avuncular figure approaches.
He had, until this injury-enforced pause in the game of football being enjoyed by these little ones here in Kotei, a suburb of Kumasi not far from the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST), discharged refereeing duties.
Now, though, he switches roles, first to reprimand the erring player, and then to soothe and lift the slightly sore chap off the pitch.
"Sorry," he says, in the local tongue, Twi, rubbing the still sobbing boy's back.
"You'll be fine. Just rest up a bit and carry on with the game, okay?"
Those words seem to do the trick. A minute or two later, the kid is back on his feet, playing as though nothing had happened.
The man also returns to his business: refereeing, yes, but also coaching (this, in fact, is a training session), which is what he actually does full-time for these youth.
Coach Pep — that's what everyone calls him around here, really, but christened George Osei Mensah at birth — would find time, after the game, to sit down with this writer and tell his story, one that just has to be told.
***
It wasn't until some 15 years ago that George, born just outside Kumasi, relocated to the Ashanti regional capital to live with his father.
And that's where his love of football, of first playing it and later teaching it to kids as best he could, blossomed.
"Just around the time I was in Junior High School (JHS), I found a group of kids engaging in a kickabout with another set in the neighbourhood. They just happened to be one player short, requiring someone to play in goal, and so I volunteered for the position. I ended up giving a good account of myself, pulling off some decent saves," he tells Enn Y. Frimpong.
As he walked back home with the other children, all of whom were his juniors in age, the bulb of an idea flashed in his head: what if… he went from featuring as an extra to leading his own team of boys who'd train regularly and routinely play actual football games?
Well, what if?
"In a matter of days," he recalls, "the idea crystallised and burst into reality.
"I was young, yes, but my organisational skills were sharp enough to bring it all together and get the gears moving. Running on my own drive and desire, as well as the kids', the project quickly gathered pace. I started with six children, and, by the time I was done with JHS and ready to commence the second major phase of formal education, I had assembled a passionate bunch."
That passion wasn't snuffed out even as George headed off to a nearby technical school where he received training in electrical installation. Vacations saw the team get together for training and for games, while the proximity of his home to school ensured George could seek permission to make the short trip for occasional meetings with his little band even when school was in session.
On graduating, George had no doubt in his mind what he intended to pursue as a career. What had started as little more than a desire to provide a recreational outlet for kids who otherwise might have been sucked into the streets' vortex of miscreancy after school hours and during holidays had budded into something bigger — something George, even against parental wishes, was willing to dedicate the rest of his life to.
"Dad, obviously well-intentioned, wanted me to further my education at the university, with the goal of seeing me gainfully employed in the future as an electrical engineer," he says.
"I, however, decided to choose my own path."
***
That path hasn't been rosy, George concedes, even if he deserves credit for staying the course regardless.
"I have been called names by people who believe I could put my best years and resources to better use, and it's not difficult to understand their perspective.
"I have to spend much of my earnings on training equipment and matchday gear for the wards under my guidance. And, for some of them, I've had to all but adopt them, assisting their parents — the single moms among them, especially — to cater for some basic needs."
George, who himself lives on the little he makes monthly as a caretaker of one of the many hostels dotted around KNUST where he also resides, isn't exactly well-off.
His room, in which this interview is conducted, is hardly palatial.
Entering it, you find a barrel that contains his cooking utensils on one side of the only door; on the other side lie heavy chunks of metal that, presumably, he and his boys use as weights to exercise and keep fit. The single room is split into two halves by a curtain; shove that flimsy partition to one side, and the sight of his bedroom greets you.
There you'd spot, of course, the bed.
No less conspicuous, though, is literally glittering proof of what he has achieved as a coach, the silverware he has to show for his efforts and exertions. A row of medals hang from the wall, and, just below, four trophies share pride of place with his personal effects. I cast my eyes a little higher and glimpse a GTP-branded clock, side-by-side with a certificate of participation in some mini-tournament.
"In their spare time, when not out on the pitch strutting their stuff, many of the kids could be found here with me, watching television and playing video games," George shares.
On this premises, too, he holds an end-of-year party that the lads very much look forward to.
"To many of them, I'm everything — coach, friend, mentor, and basically whatever I need to be."
***
Speaking of mentors, George has one of his own: Manchester City boss Pep Guardiola.
George has been a disciple of the Catalan since his glorious days as Barcelona manager — rather curious, given the former is a big fan of the Blaugrana's archrivals, Real Madrid. The shirt he has on for this occasion, in fact, is Madrid's away shirt from last season; at the back, 'African Pep' is inscribed.
The irony isn't lost on him — me neither — but he has an explanation on hand for anyone who asks.
"It's just about how he sets his sides up, how obsessed he — and, by extension, they — are with winning the ball, retaining it, and generally bending it to their will. How he does it, how he gets them to do that… I find it all very intriguing and, indeed, worth emulating in my own small way."
George may admire how Barcelona — and other teams since coached by Guardiola — retain and use the ball, but he's no less an admirer of how his beloved Madrid thrive on the principles of counter-attacking football. He strives to merge those diverse styles of play and impart the best of both to his boys; a fact reflected in the team's motto: We Possess Like Barca, Counter Like Madrid.
Watching them play, it's not too hard to see them commit wholeheartedly to the two approaches, despite doing neither perfectly.
Perhaps, though, they'd be a little closer to perfection if George had anything close to a thorough coaching education.
He doesn't.
***
"Some six years after getting involved with the kids — and I recall all we had at the time were balled-up pieces of paper for footballs — I decided to take an introductory coaching course at the National Sports College in Winneba, back in 2019," he narrates.
Fast-forward to 2023 and that certificate is all George still has, though not for a lack of effort or desire.
"I've really tried to upgrade my level of coaching knowledge, honestly, towards attaining my goal of being among the best there is, but financial constraints have hamstrung my plans time and again," he tells me.
"I sought to register and participate in the recent Caf Licence C coaching course organised by the Ghana Football Association (GFA), filling the initial documents and all, but the original registration fee pegged at GHC3,500 — almost doubled later to GHC6,000 — ultimately proved a hurdle too high."
George is just 28, though, and refuses to give up, knowing he has plenty of time in which to further formalise his coaching credentials and hone his Guardiola-inspired philosophy; for now, all he relies on are tutorial videos on YouTube.
He expresses a hope, one that is impossible to deflate, that a time would come, preferably in the not-too-distant future, when the GFA would be moved to offer discounts — perhaps waivers, as was handed to 70 female coaches this year — on such fees to coaches like him who have a long track record of grooming talents out of their own pockets.
That would certainly be welcome, but, George insists, would still be nowhere near enough what is required to develop football at the grassroots (colts, as we call it in these parts) to a sufficiently high level.
"There just hasn't been any financial boost, definitely not as far as I am concerned; not even when my U13s won their division last year did we receive anything of note."
"No cash prizes at all?" I ask.
George, shaking his head wistfully, responds firmly in the negative.
It's a shame, really, considering Kurt Okraku, the current president of the GFA campaigned on a manifesto that included a promise to restore colts football to its former glory.
To the extent that the national juvenile league has been revived, George admits, Okraku has achieved some success on that front — but that, really, is all there is to write home about.
"We, the coaches/owners, are left to bear the brunt of keeping the league afloat," George sighs.
"My club has only received two footballs and nothing more, in terms of logistical support, since joining the league some three years ago. The coaches — I, for one — could do with occasional refresher courses, but there have been none. You get my drift?"
I do.
I really do — especially in light of recent developments.
Last February, the GFA announced it had received 540 pairs of boots from PUMA, the German sportswear manufacturer, not a single one of which trickled down to the colts players who really — truly — cannot afford them. George and others like him around the country would have to buy the cleats themselves, as if they aren't struggling enough already in these tough times.
And that's sad, you know, assuming over half of the intended recipients probably earn just enough to get their own boots; if that assumption is wrong, well, it only means this GFA administration isn't doing any better at running affairs at/near the top of the football pyramid.
That, with Okraku almost sure to seek re-election, is a subject for another day.
***
George, though, couldn't be bothered who the next GFA president would be.
"All I ask is that my pathway to personal development as a coach be eased; and that my kids, too, be given a chance to fulfil their vast potential."
He has a couple of bright chaps in mind.
To offer context to George's expectations, it bears mentioning that he has a habit of referring to his best young prospects by the nicknames of famous footballers: there's Messi on one flank, Neymar on the other, and Kane right through the middle.
Then there is that outstanding pair, Kante (Solomon Boakye) and Dembele (Kelvin Kwadwo Agyapong), George can't wait to talk about. These two have truly 'earned' their nicknames, apparently.
"It's not just how they — Boakye (aged 9) a buzzing midfielder, Agyapong (11) a dazzling winger — play even at such tender ages that reminds me of those two," George explains, "it's also their respective physical appearances."
But, hey, don't take his word for it. The two are pictured below; judge for yourselves.
George has high hopes for them and others who are just as promising — and those hopes aren't unfounded.
A couple of his older boys are already on the upward trajectory.
One, Richard 'Konate' Issaka, a centre-back, joined Cheetah FC, the club that launched the late Christian Atsu into superstardom, last year. Another, attacker Emmanuel Attakorah Quansah, has just been invited to join the national youth ranks by Black Satellites head coach Samuel Boadu.
There is still another, Jacinta Boaduwaa Asare, one of a handful of girls that train with George's group. She, according to the young coach, is a jewel that has already caught the eye of some of the best talent-spotters in Ghana.
"Three years ago, she trialled with the Right to Dream Academy and, despite the rigorous, multi-layered sifting process, got selected for admission," he says, with pride, before his brow furrows in disappointment.
"Unfortunately, young as she was and having never been away from her family for any extended period, Jacinta struggled to adjust to the new environs and life at the academy, resulting in a premature withdrawal." George continues, before his face lights up again.
"Now, though, aged 12 and far more mature, I have no doubts at all about her readiness to move to the next level."
That next level, George says, should soon see her join the youth team of Women's Premier League side Fabulous Ladies.
***
All well and good, then?
"Not quite," he says.
"There is still much that is needed if my kids are to make that big step-up."
Top of that list is a camera-equipped drone that costs no more, at present valuation, than GHC600, with which games and training sessions could be recorded for video analysis. That doesn't seem like such a princely sum, but it's still well beyond George's modest budget, and he'd appreciate any help that he could get.
Oh, and there's the small matter of coming up with the funds required to ensure that George's club operates under its actual name, seeing as it currently bears a borrowed one: Ejisu Happy Stars.
"At the time of registering the club for the juvenile league, there wasn't enough money to get our original name, Born To Win F.C., in the books, so we had to temporarily assume an existing identity," George explains.
"We'd love to stay true to ourselves, and I really look forward to that visit to the Registrar-General's Department which would rectify all that — whenever it is that I could afford a fee that should now be approximately GHC2,000."
That would feel like a rebirth, refreshing an already thriving project.
Happy Stars' teams are doing pretty well at all three levels of the Ejisu-Juaben District juvenile league in which they compete, halfway through the current season: the U13, U15 and U17 sides all stand third on the log in their respective divisions.
"We'd probably excel under any name," George brags, "such is our all-round quality.
"But I sincerely believe we'd perform at our absolute best as Born To Win," he concludes.
"It's who we are."
Article by: Enn Y. Frimpong