FOOT. I’ve studied now centres, passes, traning schedules.
Headers, bicycle kicks, set pieces
And even – alas! - offside rules
And still am…
(A knock on the door.)
Who’s there?
STRANGER WITH A DOG-LIKE FACE (entering). Good evening.
FOOT. It’s past sunset. No coaching for today.
STRANGER. Well, Master Foot, I heard you could have a little coaching yourself.
FOOT. Me? For what?
STRANGER. Aren’t we stuck in a little motivation crisis, eh?
FOOT. How dare you?
STRANGER. The players are already gossiping about a lame duck. An old bastard whose best days have long gone.
FOOT. Old Bastard? Me? I’m not old!
STRANGER. Not that old. But maybe you would desire to prolong your career for some decades and increase your income by a factor of… say, ten.
FOOT. Who would not like that?
STRANGER. Exactly what I’d say.
FOOT. What do you want?
STRANGER. I’m here for a client with plans for his own soccer team...
FOOT. You mean football.
STRANGER. Whatever. He is hiring the best players of the world for you and you make them a winning team. You will only have to coach a single game and if you and if your team win, you will be promoted to be the leading official of a local soccer organization.
FOOT. Football!
STRANGER. Yes, and you become an expert for Foxsports or another broadcasting company of your choice.
FOOT. Sounds good. Can I consult my agent first?
STRANGER. Sorry, no, he had an accident. I would be your agent from now on. Just sign here. Take this, please.
FOOT. But that’s no pen. It’s a needle.
STRANGER. Yes, we are a little eccentric. All we need is a little drop of your blood. Allow me…
FOOT. Ouch!
STRANGER. That’s enough. Thank you.
FOOT. What's that funny smell...
STRANGER. I have to go now and get the players before the Arabs take them. See you!
(Off.)
jeffc