I have reached a point in my life that I think most, but not all, men in this country go through. It's a difficult period. It can happen at any time, but usually is most at the fore in the average male around the age of 30. I'm obviously an early developer, but it's a serious issue that the less fair sex face. In fact, I would probably go as far as saying that this state of mind can be the catalyst for a great deal of mid-life crises. It's rarely talked about, and there is something of a taboo about the subject. Ladies, your gentlemen friends may be suffering in silence, and I won't stand for it any longer. It needs to be brought to the light, and I am willing to be the one to bear this burden. Here goes:
I will never be a professional footballer.
Never will I prowl the wing at packed stadia up and down the country, nor will I be sworn at with increasing vehemence as I don't kick the ball right.
I won't ever be able to use my celebration (well rehearsed and practiced since childhood) for THAT winning goal, or any goal for that matter.
I won't be able to talk about how "at the end of day, we got the three points, and that's what matters. We-gave-110%, couldn't-ask-for-more, dodgy-offside-call-but-ref-does-a-hard-job, I-just-love-my-football."
I shall never be lampooned in the national press for not running fast enough or running too fast or being in the wrong place or being in the right place and failing to do anything about it.
At the grand old age of 23, I shall hang up my hypothetical signature series boots and call it a day on pretending to still have a chance at being a professional footballer. I will never be talent spotted, mainly because I have no talent. I have matured significantly enough to see it is just a pipe dream, a whimsical thought and a pointless charade. It is merely a chasing after the wind.
Now, where did I put my guitar? You don't need talent to be a rock star, right?