Mr World Cup

Like Cardinal Pell receiving a summons to a Royal Commission Chris suddenly has a fever, to be specific soccer fever, which conveniently manifests itself quadrennially when the World Cup is trending. 

For a guy who couldn’t tell you 10 A-League players he sure has a lot to say about how hard done by Australian soccer is. He bails up a work colleague at morning tea and puts him offside with some unsolicited opinions, “the Socceroos have only gone and ended up in the pool of death again, they want us to fail, it’s such bullshit”. 

It might be a hard pill to swallow but much like Eric the Eel there probably aren’t too many pools Australia would flourish in on this stage, they’re just happy to be there.

After work, Chris desperately tries to pass off his FIFA 18 based research as his own hot takes on round one. “Look, France is a strong defensive side so Australia is going to find it hard to penetrate their 4-2-3-1 formation, our only chance is to hold possession and get it to Cahill”. Like a losing hooligan’s smile, Chris’ strategy probably has a few holes in it. 

One can only hope Cahill has a back brace because he seems to be holding the hopes & dreams of every fairweather soccer fan on his shoulders. In fact, Chris has sleepless nights over whether the new coach is aware of how good Cahill’s been up forward lately.

The nation can only hope the new coach, a man who has dedicated his life to soccer, a man who has reached a personal high water mark in his soccer career, has managed to read Chris’ comments on various ESPN articles in time. It’s really our only chance. 

Of course, given Australia rarely last longer than a virgin with a new pair of Bonds socks, Chris needs a better team to latch onto. For Chris that used to be Brazil until Germany went and implemented the fourth fucking Reich on their arses. It was brutal, you could even see that little world war-y sparkle in the German player’s eyes. 

So now, like a total Deutsche-bag, he bleeds black, red and gold and will be telling everyone how they are as well oiled as Huey’s fry pan on cheat day.

Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?