Angst-ridden football supporters are united today in blaming Fabrice Muamba’s life-threatening on-pitch heart failure solely on their own selfish need to be entertained by fast-paced action.
 |
| Whoever would have thought football could be so degrading? |
“This is all my fault,” said every footy fan today in an orgy of critical self-loathing. “What sort of callous, degraded excuse for a human being am I to expect my fellow men to push their frail bodies to the very brink of death, merely to briefly satisfy my insatiable craving for excitement? It’s as cruel and inhuman as gladiators hacking each other to pieces in the Colosseum. Well, I swear I won’t ever set foot inside a football stadium again, not for as long as I live. My conscience will never let me.”
“This pointless tragedy has finally opened my eyes,” each ashamed supporter admitted. “Anyone who still thinks it’s in any way acceptable to drool over this brutal contest deserves to be shunned by decent folk.”
“No game is worth a man’s life,” added the remorse-filled fans. “I’m cancelling my Sky subscription immediately, because I sense this must be something to do with Rupert Murdoch. He’s turned me into a baying, blood-drenched fiend, using hypnosis or something. Yes, that must be it. Everything’s his fault, the murdering bastard.”
No comments:
Post a Comment