maybe i'm just not made for football.

"EASY."

what coach said when i fumbled a pass from Bob. no fitness what so ever, so much for "running with Glasgow". please. ANYONE can run with Glasgow. besides, i can't do it anymore. i've lost it. i can't control the ball for nuts. i can't use my thighs to cushion the ball into the air then pass it nicely. i can't use my head without closing my eyes like a sissy fuck.

"BODY LANGUAGE."

mine. says. it. all. i run like a girl. i'm all spastic all over the place. i don't react fast enough. i lose the ball. i can't pass. i can't kick well. i have no tactical knowledge. why the hell am i even playing this sport?

i think 10 years on, i'll be the one, watching the game at home or at a bar, bitching about it but not knowing anything about while the others are still playing it well.

it's good to be alone at home. gives you all the time and space to drown yourself in your own inadequacy/incompetence.

sometimes i think when my ACFC mates go, "oh, we got Jonny. sure lose already." or when the opposing team goes, "neh mind, they got Jonny. can win one." i feel that it's true. i really don't benefit any team i play for in any way. my mind just goes blank when i'm under pressure from an opponent. i'm just not an intelligent player. why the hell did coach pick me i have no idea. whenever i say, "i'm just in the team to make up the numbers." i sometimes really mean it.

some might try to encourage me.

"but you can run what."

so what.

run but can't get the ball. run like a headless chicken. when you see kids play at void decks or where ever, there are two kinds. those who score the goals, and those who run around hopelessly, making fools out of themselves. i would've been one of the latter if i started at that age.

days like today just prove me right.

days like today happen all the time.

ah, fuck it.

i need you so much closer
i need you so much closer