To show my support for Iran, I had this great idea for an outfit: three vest-tops, one on top of each other; red, white and green, worn in that order. I was going to leave the red one as it was then cut off one third from the bottom of the white one and two thirds from the green one which would leave me with an Iranian flag.
I liked this design especially because it would allow me to have three layers on my upper torso, something that I was hopeful would help with giving a feel of three dimensions to my chestal area.
I had the red and the white vests but unfortunately no green ones so I went out yesterday and looked everywhere (everywhere in Primark that is. Yes I’m a bit of a cheapskate) but the only green vest I could find was one that said, on the chestal area as well so there really was no way of getting around it, using a generous amount of glitter, ‘Show us yer tackle!’ which I did not think was appropriate for an Iranian flag.
Now I have to think of something lese to wear.
Even though I’m sure we’re going to get totally crushed again, I’m still hopeful and would do anything for us to win this next match. I would even offer my soul to the devil in exchange for a win but apparently he is neither buying nor selling at the moment on account of the sharp nosedive that the market of leading shares has experienced this week and fears that interest rates will have to rise further to curb inflation. Damn you FTSE-100!
So there’s nothing left for we to do now other than begging you, the Iranian team. Please please play well tomorrow. I really don’t care what you’re going to do before the game.
You want to sing ‘Maashineh mashti mamdali na boogh dareh na sandali’ instead of the national anthem, fine, sing it.
You want to give crazy gifts to the opposite team like ‘carved golden buttocks on a silver platter’ suggested by ‘Justagirl’ or maybe something a little more Iranian like a giant cake with a little khahareh zeinab [policewoman] (with bog standard facial hair) inside who will leap out of the cake, shout at the other team for wearing shorts and having long hair and jump back inside again after hitting them with a baton? Fine, do it. Personally I would prefer something a little more discreet like for example, circumcision gift vouchers for the entire Portuguese team which can be put in little envelopes and handed out, but as long as you win, I seriously can’t care less about anything else you do.
The Creed of the Iranian Football Team
This is my foot.
There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My foot is my best friend.
It is my life.
I must master it as I must master my life.
My foot, without me, is useless.
Without my foot, I am useless.
I must hit my foot against the ball true.
I must shoot straighter than the opposition,
who is trying to take the ball from me.
I must open his goal before he opens ours.
I will.
My foot and myself know that what counts in football,
is not the strange gifts we give to the opposite team,
the crazy noises we make as our national anthem is played,
nor the confusion amongst our supporters over our flag.
We know it is the goals that count.
We will score (goals that is and not afterwards in German clubs with babes wearing t-shirts that say, ‘Show us yer tackle!’).
My foot is human, even as I, because it is my life.
Thus, I will learn it as a brother.
I will learn its weaknesses,
its strengths,
its parts,
its accessories.
I will ever guard it against
the ravages of weather and damage.
I will keep my foot clean and ready,
even as I am clean and ready.
We will become part of each other.
We will.
Before God I swear this creed.
My foot and myself are the saviours of my country.
We are the masters of this match.
So be it, until the World Cup is ours; the Iranians.
This is my foot.
There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My foot is my best friend.
It is my life.
I must master it as I must master my life.
My foot, without me, is useless.
Without my foot, I am useless.
I must hit my foot against the ball true.
I must shoot straighter than the opposition,
who is trying to take the ball from me.
I must open his goal before he opens ours.
I will.
My foot and myself know that what counts in football,
is not the strange gifts we give to the opposite team,
the crazy noises we make as our national anthem is played,
nor the confusion amongst our supporters over our flag.
We know it is the goals that count.
We will score (goals that is and not afterwards in German clubs with babes wearing t-shirts that say, ‘Show us yer tackle!’).
My foot is human, even as I, because it is my life.
Thus, I will learn it as a brother.
I will learn its weaknesses,
its strengths,
its parts,
its accessories.
I will ever guard it against
the ravages of weather and damage.
I will keep my foot clean and ready,
even as I am clean and ready.
We will become part of each other.
We will.
Before God I swear this creed.
My foot and myself are the saviours of my country.
We are the masters of this match.
So be it, until the World Cup is ours; the Iranians.
8 comments:
First: there are a lot interested in your soul, all devil enough for the record.
Second: what the heck! Where did you get this creed?
Third: Was it not you who half-promised not to write about football?
Fourth: I forgot :-S
I don't care. That credo brought a half-tear to my eye. Go Iran.
Justagirl
Portugal are old in the centre midfield, if Iran want to win they A) need to defend the channels with quick people
B) defend the centre midfield with clever people that don't get drawn out of position
C) play on the break, they're not the quickest portugal
D) score on set pieces, i.e. corners and free kicks, Iran are tall and should have a chance here
E) Wind up Ronaldo, he's got a short fuse
F) Be fit enough to last the 90 mins, not 45, should've been working on fitness for atleat 6 months, coz the only big league players for Iran are usually substitutes lacking match fitness
G) CONCERNTRATE the most important thing in modern football
H) Be happy and forget the pressure
I) Be more confident, they're better than they think
J) Be crystal clear of the moment, if you get lost you cant produce the magic for the big time, you need to almost be looking down on yourself like an out of body experience, slowing down time, only comes when you're entirely confident in your ability
That was a little serious for your Blog Shirin, but it bothers me, they should do better, they've got a good side, but the preperation isn't great.... zzzzzzzzzzz
And I really must say this: Good thing just for once the great literary credit is not teaching you and us where and what were the weak and strong parts in your script! We should all pray he does this more often.
aye you have two anons working in tandem
And must say this to the very clever second anonynous: You are really farting hand free aren't you? That's nice.
Shirin, I just wanted to let you know that I am going to watch the match live today and I’ll be standing there with my hand on my heart singing our national anthem that I have now memorised thanks to you. If I remember correctly this is how it goes:
Maashineh mashti mamdali
Na boogh dareh na sandali
In otoly ke man migam
Jayeh chehel mosafereh
Jayeh chehel mosafereh
Gondeh o chagho laghareh
Mashineh mashti mamdali
Na boogh dareh nasandali
;-)
No but I’ve learned the real one as well. Thanks a lot. I look forward to your report on the match. Come on Iran!
:-( What can I say…we lost…2-0…I feel shitty.
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