I played football yesterday (lost 10-0, it went… okay) and I’ve just put Football Manager on, so naturally here’s my stats if I was a proper footballer. The values go from 1-20, with one being the worst.
Acceleration – 3
I am, as they say, ‘bloody slow to get going’.
Agility – 2
I can barely turn around, never mind lift my legs.
Balance – 13
Sometimes – sometimes – I don’t fall over.
Jumping – 1
Nah, don’t like jumping.
Natural Fitness – 3
I can run three paces without dying.
Pace – 12
I’m being generous here because sometimes I can run quite fast.
Stamina – 7
Usually fucked after ten minutes. One time I wasn’t!
Strength – 14
It’s more ‘weight’ than strength, but I can make people bounce off me.
Aggression – 12
Surprisingly low, actually. I hold it in a lot.
Anticipation – 8
I can anticipate when I’m about to lose the ball.
Bravery – 4
Used to be higher; fucked my ankle. Don’t want that pain again.
Composure – 5
Concentration – 9
Decent, but I often forget where I OH A SHINY THING.
Creativity – 17
With caveats: I have to have time to see what’s going on and people have to be actually making runs.
Decisions – 13
Not terrible. Well, apart from that Rustlers burger I had. Oof.
Determination – 9
This is getting a bit dull really, isn’t it?
Flair – 1
Did I ever tell you the story about the mushy peas in my regular pub here?
Influence – 1
See, Bournemouth – and the south in general – tends to not get mushy peas.
Off the ball – 14
Mushy peas are brilliant and delicious, so they should be everywhere.
Positioning – 11
But the south of England just doesn’t seem to understand or want to understand what they are.
Teamwork – 13
So I was delighted to find a pub that actually offered mushy peas on its menu, as part of the pie meals.
Work rate – 10
God, pie meals are great. I wish I was still an uncaring glutton, rather than a pathetic, secretive one who eats tons of fried chicken and feels guilty about it.
Corners – 17
But yeah, to see a pub around here doing pie and mushy peas was a godsend. At least I thought.
Crossing – 15
Turns out it wasn’t to be, and the dream was short lived.
Finishing – 14
I ordered, I sat eagerly awaiting and I got an excellent pie – it was really good.
Dribbling – 9
But the peas were shit. They weren’t mushy peas at all.
First touch – 7
They were traditional garden peas that had clearly been mushed up with a fork or some other kitchen implement.
Free kick taking – 18
I mean – come on. That’s just stupid and ridiculous and misunderstands the entire concept of what a mushy pea truly is.
Heading – 4
I took it as a personal affront and from then on would always complain loudly about the standard of these faux-mushy bastards.
Long shots – 17
But it’s not a story with a sad ending, for once in my pathetic life.
Long throws – 10
See, they saw the error of their ways – either that or they read the Wiki page on mushy peas.
Marking – 9
And now they serve proper mushy peas with their pies.
Passing – 14
But like I said – I don’t eat the pies anymore. In fact, I don’t even know if they still do them.
Penalty taking – 13
Shit… what if they don’t do them anymore?
Tackling – 5
That would be heartbreaking after going through so much.
Technique – 8
My footballing technique is rather poor, though a lot better than when I was younger. It’s all the mushy peas I’ve eaten.
Guess who couldn’t think of a proper blog today.