Capello has been kind enough to bring me here. Although there is not much for me to do here except fix the jerseys and clean the shoes and wipe the sweat from the floor after the training, it makes me feel complete.
England makes me feel complete in a way I’ve never felt before. No one can see it but I am a little sad inside. I thought that this would be my last world cup, that I will finally bring football back home to Brooklyn and Romeo. I am beginning to hate the city of Milan, ever since they started to play me they haven’t won anything, first they destroy my image as a successful footballer then they play me against my favorite club in the whole wide world and to top it all off they conspire to get me injured.
I knew all the travelling will affect me, but I thought I was stronger than this honest!
I called Victoria last night, she wasn’t available how silly of me to think that she’ll still be alive. She is my favorite of all the queens. If she was still in charge I would’ve been sir by now.
This other Victoria called me last night during my dream about the Victoria Ver.1 and me in a knighting ceremony, she started complaining about her toe nails. I wonder what toe nails have to do with football but then again they don’t have to really. All they have to be is toe nails. Toe nails are the essence of modern football. She also asked me what I was actually doing in South Africa. I didn’t understand the question at first; it was all a little blurry. Can’t they see me on the TV? Am I being censored? She makes it sound as if my position here lacks importance and there is no purpose behind my efforts for the team. She can never understand, they can never understand what it is like to lead the three lions out of their towels and then watch as they pass themselves to death.
I advised John last night to talk to some of my friends about the gaffer. He did as I advised but the manager wasn’t happy about it. Why should we talk to the manager if we can talk more to our friends? Friends are the best thing ever; this reminds me that my friend Neville is not here. I would’ve loved to pay for his trip but he didn’t agree with my reasons.
I take a glance to the field and see my lads playing. It’s such a treat to watch this team but I think I could’ve taken that free kick better than Frankie. Heskey just missed an open chance, I look to Joe whose sitting next to me to seek some assurance but there is none available on his face. The gaffer seems to be a bit livid about something, I don’t know why he acts this way we are not losing this one are we?
I see this bloke outside the dressing room after the match, I fear for my lads. He asks me where the Loo is! Can you believe that? The world cup is under way and people are looking for the Loo. No wonder this tournament is turning out to be a mess. He asks me what I am going to do about it. I again fail to comprehend the context. Do about the Loo? He registers my lack of interest and walks away. I feel worthless all of a sudden. People here are not taking me seriously. They think I am just a cheerleader here. I’ll show them. Bring on Slovenia.
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