Using an experimental, strikerless formation, Spain only managed a 1-1 draw against Italy in their first Euro 2012 group stage match. While this was certainly a much better result than the 1-0 loss to Switzerland with which they began their ultimately successful 2010 World Cup campaign, several Spanish players still complained about the quality of the pitch in Gdansk, Poland, claiming it wasn't watered properly, thus making it too dry for their liking. This is Xavi's latest plea (see his previous pitch plea on behalf of Barcelona here)...
Gentlemen of UEFA,
Normally, I would introduce myself as Xavi -- advocate for the marginally oppressed -- and I would comment on the weather, but today there is no time for such pleasantries. That I must write to you once again is an unspeakable disappointment. When you not only failed to immediately apologize to me after my last correspondence, but also allowed Chelsea to cheat their way to winning the Champions League by using "defenders" I should have known that this travesty would arise once again.
That's the one problem with always being positive and idealistic -- those who are cynical and carry an evil realism in the empty cavern where their appreciation for how my teammates and I play football should be are always willing to persecute us worse than anyone in human history has ever been persecuted before.
They said racism and violence were the two horrific dangers of this tournament. Well I have a racism to report: That pitch in Gdansk was racist against football. And I have a violence to report, as well: That pitch in Gdansk literally curb stomped everyone who appreciates beauty or happiness or angels.
Simply put, that pitch was equivalent to deadly earthquake under an orphanage for children too gifted to have parents. I personally presented the groundskeeper with our officially sanction 475-page book on adequate pre-match watering techniques and they flatly refused to even read the first 38 chapters. How can UEFA sit quiet as inhumanely dry grass ruins football and the concept of destiny? In the name of all that is Pep, I politely demand answers.
You see, there are even more important matters at stake here than the all-important pursuit of football. Namely, the constant and unparalleled suffering of Cesc Fabregas, noble warrior and aspiring pastry chef. Though Cesc scored a goal to punish Italy's reprehensible use of strikers and did his best to hide his pain, I could sense that he was still suffering. And how could be not be when forced to endure the horrors of dry grass.
Now, I am not one to perpetuate conspiracy theories -- they are hurtful and only partially correct when involving UNICEF -- but I could not help but feel the smothering darkness of Jose Mourinho's presence at the match. Judging by the waves of smugness pouring out of his untalented grin from the stands, I am confident he forced his son and agent to use travel sized hairdryers on the pitch earlier that morning. Surely this qualifies as the worst kind of war crime, which is why I have carbon copied The Hague on this message.
I expect you to rectify this injustice. If you don't, you will be receiving an even more sternly worded letter at some yet undetermined point in the future. Repent to Cesc.
The most sincerely,
Xavi, co-founder of goodness