Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa...whoa. Whoa. What just happened here? Did Harry Potter abduct me in the night and take me back to 2009? I just sat on the bench and watched Barcelona score six goals IN THE FIRST HALF against Levante. Without me. "End of an era" Barcelona. Barcelona that lost in the Champions League semifinals 7-0 on aggregate to Bayern Munich. Barcelona that now has a new manager from Argentina called Tutu or something. I don't even know his name yet because it's the first day of the season and the score is 6-0 after 45 MINUTES while I'm sitting here like the sixth member of One Direction.
I was supposed to save this club. Yeah, they won the league last year 15 points clear of Real Madrid, but everyone was still all like, "Yep, Barcelona's done now. They're over. Better stick bendy straws in our ears and finish the home lobotomy we have to be doing to think something as completely stupid as that." Still, I was going to be the guy who keeps Messi at the top. I was going to come in and be that guy. And then I was going to surpass him in every way imaginable. But that was going to be later, after he loves me and develops an insatiable lust for exotic hams and doesn't care anymore.
Anyway, this is just ridiculous. They didn't beat anyone 7-0 last season. No one. They played Levante twice last season and only won 5-0 in those two matches combined. I know that because I just checked since I'm sitting on the bench, drawing on my finger with a pen and watching them score six goals against Levante in one half. And now it's halftime and I'm still here by myself because I have no idea what to do with my life anymore.
Seriously, what do I do now? Should I learn to knit? Would that be useful? I beat Spain and won the Golden Ball at the Confederations Cup. Should I just start knitting stuff for people while they all score goals and be perfect all season? Should I fold towels? Become a brilliant sandwich artist at Subway? They'd probably make me wear a hairnet there and that would be the worst day of my life everyday forever. Oh wait, someone's actually talking to me. I'm going to need a second to remember what it's like to actually exist.
"Hey Neymar, come on into the match now." Thanks, guys. It's 6-0 an hour into the game. If I score a goal or three now I'm just going to feel like a bully who takes ice cream from people who can only eat dairy products. Fantastic. Happy birthday to me even though my birthday is really in February. Great.
And that's a yellow card. That's my contribution on the day. A yellow card in the 88th minute when it's 7-0. Call me when the team really needs me because we're only up like 5-0 and Alexis Sanchez can't find his other shoe. In the meantime, I'll be volunteering for Messi's foundation to do something actually useful. And no one's even listening. Perfect.