I’m Not A Player I Just Crush A lot

Episode #1

Dear Journal,

I’m trying to remember when I started crushing on French football.
Was it World Cup 98? Zidane’s double headers in Paris?

No, that was my first exposure to the French team, but I was supporting the Seleção. The Nike commercials, the Canary Yellow kits. El Phenomenon.

Zidane who?

I had no clue. I couldn’t comprehend Zidane’s composure on the ball. I didn’t appreciate the roulettes or dragbacks. All I saw was a balding forty-four-year-old midfielder head two bullets past a cardboard cut-out of Taffarel.

 
Yeah, those blue Adidas kits were dope as hell but our relationship was still years away.
Oh, I remember now. London. It all began in North London.

 
Monaco takes on Amiens tonight. Another Ligue 1 team I’ll have to google. Friday night football is like chicken fried steak, weekend comfort food.

I’m out,

Jack

 

P.S. I learned later that summer Zidane was only 26 years old. His early male pattern baldness brought me great comfort later in life.

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