Futbal = Misogynist – I = Misanthrope – World Cup 2010 = Black

I am a cusp between Messi & Rooney – Messi not in mad skills but in midget height – Rooney not in machismo but in ugliness. Born with no deformities but a Gift – thought Xenophobia was a gift – hated doctors & nurses instantaneously – But soon realized I hated All Mankind with equal vengeance – A bloody Misanthrope – Futbal came to my rescue & became my soulmate - It was like Calvin & Hobbes – In spirit & uselessness –

I was mind-blowingly pathetic in academics – had no friends – A fact misanthropic lunatic can’t complain but cherish – But the levels of my human phobia were so high that I turned a legendary almost gay; team sport like futbal into a narcissistic loner (Read: Loser). I played against a mute brick wall.

I got married to a quadruple divorced rich lady - whom no one wanted to touch. We made love (Yikes) & had quadruplets (Karma) – I got bored & filed for divorce – I got it; as judge adjudged her to be boring at par with Dalai Lama.

I got thick suitcases of money in settlement for alimony. I didn’t have friends, had family but didn’t like, didn’t have greed, didn’t know what to do with all the stashed cash. I mean there is a limit to the numbers futbals one can buy.  This was June 2009.

A year later, came Now – June 2010 – I bought a full à la carte package for the World Cup 2010 in the former apartheid stricken South Africa.

On the Airport Cape Town, I bumped into the French National Squad (looked more African) & officials – Bonjour Monsieur – Someone said to me, who was trying to build rapport as my dark complexion made me look home-grown - I ignored in my patent arrogance – Who was the star here by the way –

Italians were on the same flight – I was pampering myself with Business Class on Alimony-money – That rhymes like Jingle Bell Jingle All the Way. Excuse my humor-less-humor -

German octopus sat on the seat next to mine (because I despised human company) – He whispered to me – (No one knows this until I make this revelation) – “Both French & Italians will get the boot in the premier round. French will bicker within & Italian-Stallion will bite dust” those were his divine words. 

By now Paul is too famous – the number of assassination threats is a record already. Rumor has it that Israel’s infamous Hit Squad has been loaned by Argentine Mafia to take-out Paul. Al Qaeda has offered protection; in return they ask Paul’s help in taming The Iron Man – Al Qaeda actually believes Iron Man is real – Holy Cow

The video of the game between Uruguay & France became a smash hit with Insomnia Patients – Initial response has been spectacular – we could be on the verge of a major scientific/sport break-through. 

English drew with 12 men Yanks – Robert Green was Man-Of-Match for USA. Speculation is that Green secured a 7 figure deal with a butter/margarine giant in USA after the showcase of his naturally buttery fingers.

Indians leaped in Joy as German babies over-ran the sledging nemesis World Champion (Cricket of course) Aussie Socceroos. Oz media blamed Home-Sickness & trashy African Beer – Aussies sorely missed Fosters’ Long Necks. Red Carded Cahill & Kewell put their dis-appointment in best words when they spoke in Tandem with an African Beer in one hand – “F%$#ing oath - Where’s the Froth” 

Forlan’s brace sealed South Africa’s fate – I ran out of air but didn’t stop blowing my special edition Vuvuzela (all on Ali-money) – Vuvuzela has come to the rescue of long-suffering sissy husbands from their evil incessantly blabbering Fat wives. 

Lampard scored but assistant referee’s mind was elsewhere trying to score. English were shown where they belonged, in History & soon Argentine bubble was burst by the German Infants who showed no teething troubles.

Maradona’s dream of streaking across Buenos Aires was shattered. He wasn’t truly worried about Argentina winning; He just wanted the Argentine people to see his waxed hard buttocks.

Paraguayans were buoyed by Sleep with One & All offer by some depraved lass. Spaniards weren’t choking anymore (No hidden meanings) – Paraguay went down without scoring (literally too) & watching her Nude on paper was the minor consolation.

Suarez brought back the fond memories of Cheating & Getting Away - He became the Hand of God Volume 2 – This One Saves (against - Maradona’s Hand of God Volume 1 – This One Scores)

Another Diego (Forlan) became the Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar of Uruguay & cruised an otherwise mediocre ship before watching it sink under the wrath of Oranje Ocean led by sailor Robben.

German just borns were spanked about by the Spain’s First Ever Non Choking Squad. Paul had asked for black commando security cover before the Final Whistle. In Rishikesh; India, a temple of Paul Octopus Baba was already underway.

The Grande Finale felt like American Football League Final. Dutch tried hard to cover their inferiority with barbarity. Eventually, Ineista Scored & I jumped in Joy only to fall back on my seat to realize I resided in the middle of Oranje Gangsters. But I wasn’t scared – I was ecstatic – I had overcome the human phobia – I was happy for someone – I was happy for the Best Team who deserved the Cup – It was forever due & it was about time to state the cliché.

South Africa showed that even if their Home-grown teams suck, They have heart & they have the acumen, their organization of the Cup was matchless. World Cup Twenty-Ten opened many doors & showed the mighty can fall if they lack the Three-C’s Concord (French), Courage (Italians) & Conviction (England).

I am no more a Misanthrope – All credit to Futbal – To Sports – Sport has no religion – It is like Super-Glue – It binds us all, even those who have nothing in common – It makes us realize that we’re infact ONE –

Brazil 2014 – I am Coming – With my Quadruplets sans Fat Wife & the Paraguayan depraved lass - & yet again on Ali-money.