"Football is a game of freedom, vision and feelings. Football makes me happy." César Luis Menotti- former coach of Argentine national team
I hate this. I hate this so much. I can't believe I can still feel this way after all these years. You would think I would get used to it. My father was an accountant. He told me he didn't like it very much but he did it and after a while he just got used to it. But when my father messed up someone's taxes he didn't have to hear the groan of 60,000 people and find his car pooped on in the parking lot. Because that's what's I'm going to have to deal with if I even let a single goal in. How did I get stuck playing for a team whose fans express themselves through pooping? They're animals! I hate it here.
Any other position. ANY other position and I would be happier. Look at Gary on defense over there. He's dribbling the ball, passing it around with the other guys. They all look so happy. Fuck them. When I try to join in with the team practice, coach screams at me to get back to my net and practice my dives. Practice my dives! Throwing-yourself-on-the-
And I know the rest of the team hates me. It's because I yell at them and they resent it. Of course I yell at them. Look at the size of this net. It's like the side of barn. If the other guys don't cover the offense it's a shooting gallery. But really I yell at them because I hate them too. I hate them so much. Each of our forwards has their own brand of vodka. One of our midfielders had a street named after him last year. I can't get a table at Denny's on a Friday night without a reservation. Oh God I hate them.
I should quit. I should quit right now. That would show them. Then where would they be? They'd put the other guy in and I'm pretty sure he's blind in one eye. I've seen him take a left turn out of the stadium parking lot and hit a woman on a scooter and just drive off. You don't want that in net. Look at him. He's having a great time on the bench. Yeah sure, you need the hot 23 year old physiotherapist to stretch you out so you don't pull something while you scratch your ass. Yeah, give me the thumbs up. Your support means everything to me.
Now the referee wants to talk to me. This isn't a boxing match. I don't care how you're going to run the game. You're a recess monitor paid to keep these idiots in line. It's not complicated. Why is he showing me the red and yellow cards? It's like he's showing me pictures of his kids. No, I do not want to inspect the ball. I'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with it when it's being kicked at my head. I can't believe you're wasting my time with this. Just get up there and let's get this nightmare over with.
I should have gone to law school. My brother Keith is a lawyer. He constantly tells me how jealous he is of me. Really Keith? I was kicked in the balls seventeen times last season. How do keep track? Because the team has a urologist on the payroll just to deal with me and he tells me that one more kick could send my right testicle into my abdomen. I don't need that, Keith. You complain about your kids? I'm pretty sure I'm sterile.
Okay, here we go. Focus now. Oh crap, listen to the crowd. You know one of those cretins can't wait to leave a hot turd on your car. This is my life: working to avoid being shit on. Here they come. Oh God, it's Whatshisname! He has one of those one word names. You'd think I'd remember it. He's dating that Italian model-actress chick. The one with the everything. I would give up my kidneys just to smell her hair. I tried to talk to her at that benefit thing last year but she thought I was a waiter and asked me to get her a drink. Then other people started giving me their drink orders. I spent the night running around with a tray of cocktails. Is his name Fanta? No, that's insane.
What the hell is Gary doing? Fanta is getting around him. Gary, you're killing me! Okay, he's going to shoot. Pick a side. This is what all that throwing-yourself-on-the-