Walking into my room on a chilly Sunday morning, I sighed heavily, yet I was happy. I had correctly tipped Burnley to beat United. Who knew. I didn’t get it all right; I had a few problems especially my A-League tipping. Mariners and Jets drew, so I only had 2 points from this round. Forgetting about that, I walked over to my desk, before clomping down on to my seat. Feeling down after my tipping woes, I decided to play a game of Football Manager. I’ll have you know that I am in the Premier League with the Wolves. Sitting 5th might I add, and in contention for Europa Cup. After a few seconds, I realized I needed my disc. I wasn’t really in the mood to find a crack, so the search for the disk began. Sorting through the layers on my desk, I went through my season insurance forms, various team lists and stats, homework due days ago, and various editions of FourFourTwo mag. I then sat up. It just occurred to me, *click* like that. I, as I presume many of you readers are out there, Football Fanatics. And there I was thinking I was just a normal 15 year old boy.
‘I can’t be a footballing fanatic, now can I?’ I thought to myself.
“Dude did you see the Fulham game…” I heard in the background.
“Crap man, sheesh that was an awesome game, Schwarzer mate seriously…” I trailed off, rambling on about the game, and the pointless argument that the match was the 50th rained on match in the last two years. After composing myself, I thought ‘well there you go, I am a fanatic.”
Being a fanatic isn’t a bad thing. It’s not a bad thing at all. Being a fanatic means that you bother to carry around at least one copy of FourFourTwo magazine. That gives you something to read in those boring English classes, engineering lectures, or even office fire drills. That’s something a normal kid wouldn’t think of is it? Fanatic 1, Average Joe 0. That’s the fanatic’s first goal of the… Oops, there I go again. Even when there isn’t a football match, we make one up. And it ain’t a bad thing either; it gives us something to do, like write articles for major online blogsites.
Another fanatic trait is over reactions to certain football related things. “Carrick missed? You have got to be kidding me! *Shakes small scared new boy* DID YOU SEE IT I DON’T F****** BELIEVE IT!”
And that was my reaction to the Manchester United Charity Basketball game. You don’t want to see the Burnley reaction. The neighbours want a new house now. They don’t see the décor of a hole in the wall.
And then the accents came. With the added strength of Special1TV, us fanatics just find the time to practice their manager accents. Or even Rooney accents, but that one’s too hard to understand. Yes, we fanatics are the people at parties who are acting like a crazed French psychopath but deny it. Wonder why? We aren’t crazed French psychopaths, we’re just Arsene Wenger in the dugouts.
Wait hang out, your right about the crazed Frenchman bit. We have a great time doing the Sven accent, or even our Jose Mourinho quotes. But seriously, “please don’t call me arrogant, but I’m a Football Fanatic and I think I’m a Special One.”
Some of us hardcore Football Fanatics, even practice the hardest of all quotes/accents (its both). That’s right, the golden eagle, the A-Bomb of managerial try-hardiness. Gianfranco Zola’s Cockney rhyming attempt. Yep, as crazy as it sounds we can do it. And if you don’t know it, “I’m going down the apples and pears, into the jam jar, down the frog and toad into the rub-a-dub-dub, and I’m going to have a pig’s ear.” How about that ey? Talk about relocation-fail. Well, at least we all weren’t booed off by our parents like Theo Walcott.
So that’s the first chapter in us Football Fanatic stories. But it gets worse. Anyone out there got a major fanatic story that is just begging to be told. Well then do it. Comment your thoughts, your story or even YOUR attempt at beating Gianfranco Zola.
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