Secondly, kudos to the guy who works at SoccerExpress who I'm about to complain about. As soon as he heard me talk, he directed me to the Extra Special Discounted Shoes. Had I found the Pumas in size 10, I may have taken them. (And actually spent more money than I did on the perfectly acceptable, not on sale Diadoras (I'm a Diadora Man, at heart, dammit!)). Again, the guy behind the counter was helpful, but not intrusive, and I appreciated that, as I had come from a full day of work, and I'm pretty sure my feet stank. Thank you sir, for giving me the shoes I wanted, and getting the way out of the funk. I would have felt bad for you otherwise.
Also, you were quite helpful in directing me to the shorts. It is quite conceivable I was on my way to buying a pair of large youth shorts if not for your kindly directions.
So why am I writing a public letter to you? To thank you for your kindly service? Phht. If you think that, sir, you don't know me at all. NOT AT ALL! No really, you don't. Not your fault--we hadn't met before today.
Which perhaps explains how you failed to put together my story of joining a team thanks to a guy I know who is 10 years my junior. Perhaps you failed to note the gray hairs that streak the middle of my head. Or my paunch.
For whatever reason, you decided I was a good person to complain to about how your team got screwed last year, because they only fielded 8 players, and despite being the most talented team on the pitch, week in and week out, found themselves beat by "a bunch of dudes in their 30's".
I let the first one go by, friendly counter guy. I thought maybe you thought we were about the same age. But then you referred to yourself and your buddies as "Guys my age." Thus demonstrating that you knew we were not the same age. And yet again and again you denigrated the abilities of "Dudes in their 30's".
Um, hey, man--I'm a Dude in my 30's. Stop talking shit about us. Let me quote you (and you are not wrong, especially in my case, which makes it sting all the more), "You know, we were going out there with 8 guys, and their team had 16 guys, and these dudes in their 30's, they got tired quicker, and they weren't as good as us, but we just didn't have any subs, and we played short-handed all game. So they beat us, 1-0! That's it! They were three men up all game, and these dudes in their 30's beat us 1-0!"
FUCK YOU, Counter-Dude from SoccerExpress. I'm not a violent man by nature, and my lack on the aggressiveness on the pitch is one of the things that made me not a great player. I know that. But, guy from SoccerExpress, I may make an exception in your case. To quote the great Irishman (not great Irish soccer player. Great Irishman--in his 30's!) Roy Keane, "See you on the pitch."
2 comments:
Wait ... you have stinky feet?
You should challenge the soccer salesman to a tickle fight.
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