Trails

Soccer is really a game of magic mushrooms. There are trails everywhere. The rampant ball, the running players, the long outstetched hands on a save. A riot of colors, flying boots, combustible explosions of happiness. Terrible comedowns, fear of the clock, time running out. The dark sinister man in yellow blowing a loud whistle, the lonely raver, ranting at players, pulling superbright cards from his pockets, like big warning signs on the mushroom ride.

Well, none of that worked. Football’s just a game.