Variability is a fact of life; however the odds of an unexpected surprise upsetting a quiet game of soccer decrease in direct correlation to the totality with which one embodies the weakest link. A blanket ignorance of the basic rules of the game is an excellent start, as is a blatant disregard shown for the current poor state of fitness in preference for assuming that your heart probably won’t explode and maintaining an otherwise unsustainable top-speed fueled by endorphins and enthusiasm.
In the face of these catalysts, variability is vanquished and in its wake, like a phoenix from the ashes, rises Great Certainty:
- Whatever team you happen to be on will consistently lose. By a lot.
- The ankle that you shattered into a billion pieces ten years ago while riding a bike around a 90 degree corner while simultaneously popping a curb, at speed, in the rain, at night, without your hands on the handlebars will be re-aggravated (I should have just died, it would have been more just).
- There will be much suffering and said ankle will blow up into a poofy appendage of pain, delivering discomfort at all hours regardless of activity level and morphing your otherwise gazelle-like gait into a ghetto gangsta hop.
- Shoes, once a great joy, will become demonical vehicles of torture. The ankle poofiness is made up of sharp particles of pain that, when compressed by, say a sneaker, jab with cattle-prod effectiveness at your nerve-endings creating aftershocks that will ripple up and down your entire leg causing your teeth to chatter. And, even if you wear a shirt, leaving shoes out of the equation will still render you among those doomed to not get served.
- No one will feel sorry for you because you are an idiot.