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Y’know what I like about soccer?
Hold up a second. Lemme rewind…
Of the very few things I like about soccer, would you care to know about one of those things?
No?
I don’t blame you. I probably wouldn’t, either.
Anyway, y’know what I like about soccer?
When you get penalized and an official issues you one of those yellow or red cards, they don’t simply pull the card out of their pocket, blow the whistle, and leave it at that.
Incorrect.
No, what these dudes do is run up to the player who committed the infraction, get all up in their faces, and with the most serious, stonefaced expression they can deliver, they refuse to make eye contact with the player. And that’s despite being close enough to the player to smell the pregame meal he ate.
But wait.
They’re not done asserting their unquestioned authority yet.
They finish it off by raising the card as though it’s some sacred sword they’re about to use to summon The Power Of Greyskull.
It’s full of pagentry, symbolism, and outright bombast.
It’d only be better if the offending player, who’s already losing his mind at the call against him, of course, was allowed to sock the official in the face.
That’s what’d happen in the NBA.
Okay, sorry. That was a cheap shot based on stereotypes conjured up from a collection images from past violent outbursts in the NBA.
Ahem.
That’s what’d happen in the D-Le…
Oh, nevermind.
