He’s in Barbados. I’m in My Feelings.

Image Source: @TrollFootball

You ever feel like you care more than the players you’re rooting for?

Because I do.

I sat in my tiny room last night with heat and the annoying hum from my neighbors generator while streaming the Club World Cup. I was tired, broke, and emotionally exhausted. But still, I showed up. I tuned in hoping the match would give me some relief from the day's stress

But no.

Instead, I opened my phone and saw him.
My striker. My 9.5
On road. In Barbados. Shirtless. Grinning. Palms on waist like he’s pressing “L2” to grind XP at Notting Hill Carnival.

No match sharpness, no preseason form, no training photos. But here he was. Grooving like he just dropped a hat-trick on Madrid. I won’t lie to you.. I might have zoomed in. Twice. Or more👀

It’s not even the fact that he was dancing. It’s how happy he looked. That kind of peace only comes when you know nobody's benching you. Or maybe he knows he’s not starting anytime soon. Either way... man looked free.

And me? I sat there feeling like a mumu. I’ve defended this guy online. I’ve fought in WhatsApp groups. I even changed my FPL captain once because I believed. And now he’s outside, while I’m inside? Watching Botafago play like it’s the World Cup final?

Do you know how painful it is to see your striker touch more hips than the ball in two months?

But maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s me that’s the problem. Maybe we the fans are too serious. Maybe being unserious is the real peace. I mean, this guy gets paid every week, scores once a quarter, and still looks like he sleeps like a baby. Who’s really winning?

Sometimes, I wonder what it’s like to be that free. To dance with strangers, to smile like the season wasn’t a disaster, to let go. Because clearly, he has.

Image Source: @JamalMusiala

And maybe that’s my cue. To love this game a little less. To touch grass... literally. Or at least stop waking up at 3am to watch glorified friendlies.

But deep down, we both know I won’t.

Because when the new season starts, I’ll be back. Watching. Hoping. Defending him again.

And he? He’ll still be in Barbados