Of course, I could write a whole book about my exploits but where would be the fun if I revealed everything in this post. No one likes spoilers, right? Then again, you could argue that me being clutch is hardly a spoiler, considering that it is common knowledge. But enough with the sidetracking; if you haven’t noticed already, I almost invariably go off on tangents while writing (See, that was one just now!) I will try to keep it short, so here is a brief summary of the situation so that you can get context, as readers.
My indoor football team – ranked 2nd on the tournament ladder after Gameweek 3 – was set for a top of the table clash with 1st placed team, whose name I forgot already. That team, other than being highly rated (read: overhyped. Nah, just kidding), had the peculiarity of being comprised entirely of Asian guys, which is why from here on, I will refer to them as ‘the Chinese dudes’ – even if one of them was apparently Japanese.
The first half was relatively incident free, with me operating at only half of my potential (a state referred to as semi-beast mode) although there was some controversy to be had. In the post-match press conference, when asked about the incident in question, yours truly told journalists this:
For those of you who are unfamiliar with Creole, the gist of what was said is that frail Chinese dude went down too easily following one of my attempts to take the ball from him. In fact, he dived. Exactly, this is what they call simulation in football. Of course, being the epitome of sportsmanship I am, I went to offer him a hand up – taking the opportunity to tell him that even I was amazed by my own latent strength (I’m 171 cm tall and weigh 55 kg, by the way).
I would also like to add that, contrary to the popular belief that the two missing words were crossed out due to excessive rudeness, they were in fact omitted because no English translation was available. Unnamed journalist had this to say about the behaviour of frail Chinese guy:
However, as I realised the subtle racist implications behind this incendiary comment, I sensibly declined to add anything more about the incident – although not before declaring that frail Chinese guy should be ashamed for being a cheater on top of being a wuss.
As illustrated by this bumpy start to the game, things did not go according to keikaku [translator’s note: keikaku means plan in Japanese] from the beginning. By half-time we were trailing 0 – 2 and yours truly had been substituted to enable a rookie to get real match experience and some game time. Tactics were discussed during the break and a more aggressive approach was agreed on, the focus being constant hounding and harassing (not sexual, mind you) of the opposite team’s defenders.
The plan seemed to work well enough as we (I use we loosely to refer to my team, even though I wasn’t on the court then) clawed our way back to 2 – 3. Unfortunately, the stars aligned again for the Chinese dudes as they extended their lead further. With approximately 10 minutes left on the clock, we were down 3 – 5, with team morale visibly plummeting. Would this game spell the end of our unbeaten run?
To be continued…
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P.S: Okay, I know how I promised I’d keep this short, but apparently, I can’t keep promises. So this actually turned out longer than I anticipated – and this only supposed to be the summary leading to the thrilling denouement. Well, that will be in a fresh post… coming soon.
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