Flog - ‘Things Football Players Can Do That If I Did Too Would Result in Me Being Sent to Prison’

If I ever write a book about football, something I hope to one day do, then I am going to include a chapter devoted entirely to the things football players can do that if I did too would result in me being sent to prison. Imaginatively, I would call the chapter ‘Things Football Players Can Do That If I Did Too Would Result in Me Being Sent to Prison’.
The reasons for the book not happening are plentiful. Most prominent is my incapacity to sit down and concentrate on anything that’s actually longer than a football match (if any game I’m watching goes to extra time, you could find me starting conversations with random people in the room about things like upholstery, The Cuban missile crisis, or how shit Holby City is). Also, this is the only chapter I have thought of so far, so it’s more of a pamphlet.
But the reasons for the pamphlet going ahead; well, let us go through some of the things that happened this week. Or rather, let’s see them through my eyes, as if I, as a regular human being, were experiencing them first hand.
I went to work the other day. It was a normal day; except the train was actually on time. It was lucky really, because I simply couldn’t wait to get to work and show everyone my massive gun. Oh yeah, I forgot: I took a gun to work as well. Doing! Silly me, but hey, details right? Anyway, me and my gun went into work and I started showing it off a bit. It was fine, I mean, it wasn’t loaded, and I only showed it to a few people who I knew were complete cunts as well. They loved it; I was a massive hit! Just as I’m about to put it away, the work experience kid walked past. It’s not that I dislike him, it’s just, you know, he wears a smart tie in a casual office. Always fills up the paper in the printer without the little red light telling him to. Bloody show off. Who does he think he is? As a joke, I point the gun at him. Again: it wasn’t loaded. Except it was loaded. So when I jokingly pulled the trigger and jokingly shot him in the side- you might say his sides split! Hahaha! Everything’s fine until 2 seconds later when people are jumping on me, shouting ‘call security’ and the like. I tell you, you bring one air rifle into work and shoot a defenceless man and suddenly EVERYONE’S a policeman.
Also the other day, I was in the shopping centre in town. It was a Saturday afternoon, so it was pretty crowded, which I hate. Anyway, I need a new pair of Nike trainers, so I go into JD Sports. I’ve just got a massive pay rise at work- even though I don’t actually do any more than I used to (shh, don’t tell the boss!)- so I thought I’d treat myself. So I’m about 20 yards away from these shoes that I want, right? And I see this bloke right next to me looking in the same direction. I thought, ‘I’m not having this’. So what I did, right, was I went up to him and forearm smashed him in the jaw. Bang. He goes down like I’ve done something wrong. That’ll learn him. Being right in the middle of the shopping centre, everyone saw it, even the security guard, who I thought should have just asked me to leave, but instead he goes and calls the police! I don’t even have a chance to leg it, besides, that seems a bit too much hard work anyway. My trial is next week.
As I’m not Ashley Cole or Wayne Rooney, I’m likely to end up in prison because of these events. You know what it is? You know what all this is? It’s political correctness gone mad...