A Fictional Q&A With a Fictional Footballer

This is football.

This is fiction.

Or is it?

Eh aye it is (probably).

A common complaint about modern footballers is how far removed they are from the every-day supporter. In generations past your teams ‘star man’ may have been a regular in your ‘local’, your dad might have known his dad, hell he might even have shagged your sister. The point is there was a connection between player and supporter that sadly no-longer exists. Many fans now see their idols dripping in the material rewards football offers, and see an individual so far removed from the regular sphere of existence as to be effectively another species.

In an effort to remake that broken bond, here at Balls Boobs and Blow we have (after some extensive pleading and not a small amount of blackmail) managed to set up a Q&A with a high profile Premier League star. In return for cast iron assurances regarding his anonymity (I don’t know what he’s worried about he’s fictional for fuck sake) he has promised complete and unwavering honesty.

To paraphrase Oscar Wilde ‘give a man a mask and he will tell you the truth’ well that’s what we’re doing here Oscar old chap, with the mask of anonymity our (fictitious) footballer can express his true self without the fear of alienating his fans or indeed his peers.

So are footballers really the odious scum some would have us believe? Or are they just ordinary people who happen to have an extraordinary gift? Well boys and girls we’re about to find out.

Q. Hello, thanks for agreeing to this, how are you today?

A. Rich as fuck mate thanks for asking.

Q. Eh okay, well first of all what is the best thing about being a footballer?

A. The ready availability of blow-jobs is quite staggering, genuinely quite staggering, I can’t imagine any profession where you get sucked off so frequently, except maybe a porn star.

Q. Right, that would be nice I suppose, well what about the worst thing about being a footballer?

A. The frequent drug tests are a pain in the cunt, basically you’re restricted to coke, everything else stays in your system for too long. You can risk the odd ‘e’ every now and again but with weed being well and truly off the menu the comedowns just aren’t worth it. Oh and autographs, I fucking hate signing autographs.

Q. Erm wow, I’ll be honest this isn’t going how I’d planned, okay well what about your loyal fans, what do they mean to you?

A. Nothing, not a fucking thing.

 

Q. Surely it must mean something to hear 50,000 people chanting your name?

A. Nope, It makes no difference to me whether they sing my name or boo my every touch, I still get paid at the end of the day. Fans are the bane of every footballer’s life.

Q. Bloody hell, are you aware you are coming across as an utter cunt?

A. I’m okay with that.

Q. Well can I get your opinion on loyalty amongst footballers today then? For example what do you make of Robin Van Persie’s move from Arsenal to Manchester United?

A. Did he get a pay rise?

Me: yes I believe so

Cunt: then what the fuck do you mean what do I make of it?

Me: well what about his professed loyalty to Arsenal, his claims he would never leave for a rival side? Arsenal fans considered him one of their own.

Cunt: If those fans buy into all that shit then it’s their own fault, Money is the only thing that matters, the sooner fuckwits like you understand that the better. Loyalty? Hah!

Q. I’m only asking this as I have a word limit I need to reach and I’m truly dreading your answer, but here goes. If you hadn’t been a footballer what would you be?

A. Drug dealer or porn star. I’ve always been a keen advocate of trying to find a job that allows you to embrace your hobbies and interests.

Q. I think I’m going to cry, but I’m a professional and will persevere, any plans for when you retire?

A. Fuck knows, finally have a good smoke I suppose. And if I run out of cash I’ll just join the rest of the alcoholics, degenerate crackheads and sex addicts on Soccer Saturday.

Q. Well that’ll be entertaining I suppose, can I just ask are all footballers like you?

A. Yep, and before you start those fucking Olympic athletes are just as bad. They take more drugs than I do.

Q. Not strictly a question but I thought I’d just let you know I hate you.

A. As you can imagine I’m perfectly fine with that.

Me: this is the worst moment of my life

Cunt: I honestly don’t give a fuck

Me: you’ve ruined the ‘beautiful game’ for me and all my readers

Cunt: you don’t have any readers, look at your fucking WordPress stats.

Me: *sobs*

Cunt: I will not be donating my fee to charity, *gets up and leaves*

At this point Balls Boobs and Blow would like to announce the end of its campaign to re-connect player and fan. It’s for the best, we think you’ll agree.

Feel free to check up on the mental wellbeing of the author of this piece by having a wee look at his twitter account.

 

3 comments

  1. [...] impossibility, but my regular readers (all 6 of them) will remember my fictional footballer from a previous blog, and well to cut a long story short he bloody well owes me one. So after (not much) persuasion my [...]

  2. [...] I won’t be asking the opinions of any fans I will see what my ‘fictional footballer’ has to say about it. The fact he exists solely in my head makes him the perfect interviewee [...]

  3. [...] we’re going to introduce a new character. You’ve already met that foul mouthed wanker ‘the fictional footballer’ well now it’s time to bring ‘the fictional official’ into your [...]

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