The Birth of the Bibbed Footballer
It’s amazing what they can do these days. Babies, born no later than three weeks prior, have been making unprecedentedly quick breakthroughs in the English Premier League. With boyish spirit unrivaled by any past youngsters, this recent trend has graced England with a scampering energy fueled only by Corn Pops and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. But despite the boundless drive these energizing players (you may now them as ‘Crybaby’ Carlos and Wayne “Dirty Diaper” Rooney) bring to the pitch, they bring QUITE the baggage off the pitch. From their erratic tempers and terrible attentions spans to their high maintenance, coddle hungry tendencies, these “superstarlets,” as I’ve dubbed them, tend to cause more problems for their employers than it’s worth. From Cribs to Bibs, these dudes are redefining the “Pampered Professional.”
The first of the problems associated with our ever entertaining icons is the introduction of non-traditional playing attire. The Snood Revolution may have begun before these guys were umbelical-free, but now we are seeing the emerging trend of bibs on particularly slobbery Sundays and even bonnets on especially windy matches by the seaside. A snood, the ever popular in-game neck warming garment, received mixed criticisms when introduced by the Italians. But now, Carlos Tevez replica bibs are the hot item this holiday season. Many damn the new accessory, but Manchester City team store manager, Martin McBooger, explained how good they are for business. “It’s been a wonderful addition to the 2010 catalog. They’re a hot item, especially among the 15-20 year old males.” Carlos has been scene dirtying his bib before matches with Spaghetti-O’s, so the club is even rumored to be planning to start a new line of tomato-based microwavables, all with a Man City flair. Although Tevez has inspired spending, at the team store, football purists are irate. “It’s mental. He’s a damn 3 week old prodigy, spoiling the football world with his infant image. He’s plays like a hamster for christ’s sake,” spat Everton supporter, Henry Coldbottom, ahead of his team’s 2-1 victory over Manchester City. Tevez would later blame his frozen sandbox for his struggles.
While spoiling football fashion is one thing, it’s far inferior to the disgrace of Tevez’s immaturity off the field. Following the suit of popular rebel baby, Wayne Rooney, Tevez recently went to the extreme of threatening a transfer away from his club, a fiery tantrum he capped with throwing his toy Sepp Blatter Barbie on the ground. “Quitting,” a common persuasion tactic amongst many toddlers, has become the best way for footballers to get what the want these days. Although, for Rooney it was a matter of wanting to eat less vegetables and many many more Cheezballsz, Tevez’s citing of “Cribsickness” is all the more embarrassing. At three weeks old, a prodigy footballer who chooses the young life of stardom should certainly be prepared for perhaps, a less comfortable crib and even an unfamiliar breast to feed from (more so for Wayne) for a while.
It’s an extreme strategy, and we’ve all used it before. But damnit it works. “Bah, I’m quitting.” Followed by a lil spittle down the chin. It’s the heartfelt stuff any caring mother would surrender too. And that is what has happened. Pampered from their first breath, Manchester United and Roberto Mancini, the respective mothers of Wayne Rooney and Carlos Tevez, have let them have their way. Cheezballz galore it is for the orange fingers of Wayne Rooney. As for Tevez, oh he’s comfortable now. Warm and cozy in his Tribeca roomset, foster father Roberto Mancini has burped his gassy baby and assured him that after all, “this crib belongs to you Carlos. This is Carlos’s Crib.”