Bearded Johnathan McKinstry Mane Power — Was Kasarani Defeat a Beard Curse?

Kenya were left wondering if defeat to Gambia’s Scorpions in FIFA World Cup qualifiers came from tactics… or 'McKinstry’s beard.'

“Football can kill you. It will kill you a real death! You will die because of football,” South African coach Kgoloko Thobejane once said.

And on Friday many Kenyan fans at Kasarani felt exactly that as Gambia’s Scorpions sliced through Harambee Stars with the precision of a nyama choma chef’s panga, leaving a 3-1 scar across the home crowd’s pride.

The match was a whirlwind. Sheriff Sinyan’s early header, Yankuba Minteh’s blistering pace, and Musa Barrow’s thunderbolt made sure Kenya’s hopes were in the ICU before halftime.

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Only Ryan Ogam’s late strike saved Harambee Stars from a total obituary column.

But in the middle of all this heartbreak, one detail stood out more than the goals, the tackles, or even the referee’s offside calls — the beard of Gambia’s coach, Jonathan McKinstry.

From Stubble to Statement

Kenyan fans remember McKinstry well. Back in his Gor Mahia days, he rocked a sharp heavy stubble — the kind of beard that looked like it was designed by a barber with a diploma in fine arts.

That beard gave him a boyish ruggedness, a “football hipster” vibe. Fans loved it. Players loved it. Even boda boda riders swore that whenever K’Ogalo won, it was because the coach’s beard absorbed bad luck like a sponge.

Fast forward to September 2025, and the man now sports a full, classic beard. Thick. Bold. A beard that screams: “I’m no longer here to flirt with victory — I’m here to marry it and pay dowry in goals.” And marry it he did. His Scorpions dismantled Harambee Stars like a jua kali fundi taking apart a rusty bicycle.

The Nyama Choma Prophecy

But here is where the comedy kicks in. A few days before the game, McKinstry was spotted enjoying Kenya’s sacred delicacy — nyama choma — at a joint, smiling with locals looking every inch the man at peace.

What the fans at that table should have done was whisper, “Coach, please shave back to that Gor Mahia stubble.” Instead, they joked, took selfies, and let him walk away with his bushy luck charm intact.

Imagine if they had conspired, like biblical Samson and Delilah, to chop off that beard.

Perhaps a sneaky barber could have emerged from the shadows with clippers, whispering, “For Kenya.” Maybe, just maybe, the Scorpions would have been toothless at Kasarani. The power was not in the boots, not in the tactics — it was in the beard.

Beard vs. Harambee Spirit

Of course, Harambee Stars fought. Michael Olunga, Emmanuel Osoro, Timothy Ouma, they all tried. Shots flew, headers missed, fans roared.

But every time Gaye — the Gambian keeper — made a save, it was as though McKinstry’s beard had added an extra wall in goal. Kenya was not just playing against 11 men. They were playing against 11 men and one mighty beard.

Final Whistle, Final Lesson

Immediately final whistle blew, Kenyan fans were left muttering. Not about tactics, not about missed chances, but about hair follicles.

The lesson? Never underestimate facial hair in African football. Bearded McKinstry did not just win a match — he won the 'psychological war' of appearances.

So next time, before Harambee Stars face The Gambia again, forget tactical analysis and team selection. Just send in the barbers.