In high school, Todd held the record for most tennis racquets smashed in a fit of rage. His poor sportsmanship was legendary. The product of a competitive father and an indifferent mother. Unfortunately for the rest of society, Todd never really grew out of it.
At the age of 25, he is arguably worse. He is generally a pleasant chap but turns into a monster as soon as there is a scoreboard in the picture. It is therefore unsurprising that a group of acquaintances didn’t ask him to join their Futsal team.
Alas, Tuesday night rolls around and the team is one man short. A reluctant call to Todd is made. Todd enthusiastically agrees to play before his mate had even finished asking the question. May God have mercy on everyone’s soul.
Both teams arrive at Lords and greet each other before the game. Todd refuses to shake any of the opposing team’s hands, “you pussays want to make this interesting? Carton of beer for whoever wins, and I’ll have Corona before you ask”.
Things started aggressively and well, they didn’t get much better. Todd was playing the intensity of a substitute P.E teacher trying to impress his year 10 class at an all girl’s school.
Within 10 minutes, he’s been cautioned for swearing at the young ref, called his mate an unfit piece of shit and fouled an opposition player so forcefully they hit the deck.
Todd’s mate pulls him aside at half time, “bro, chill out, it’s just a game”. Although, he could tell by the froth forming around Todd’s mouth that he takes a contrary view.
Far from relaxing, Todd charges into the second half with an even more unhinged demeanour. He gets right up into each opponent’s shit and makes crude, graphic mum jokes. After the 10th derogatory comment, an opposition player gets his revenge by a sneaky trip behind the ref’s back.
Todd is enraged. He is screaming at the ref to acknowledge the foul and give him the ball. When the ref calls play on, Todd storms off the court and refuses to come back on until he’s awarded the penalty.
His soon to be ex-mate eventually convinces him to put his toys back in the cot and come back on. It’s an ugly incident and the atmosphere on the court has soured to painfully awkward levels. Nevertheless, the final few minutes of the game are played.
As fate would have it, Todd completely shanks a pass leading to an opposition goal in the final seconds of the game. It seals the deal and Todd goes on a blame rampage. Telling each of his “mates” exactly how they caused the loss.
An opposition player jokes, “so we’ll have a carton of Feral thanks, mate”. Todd storms out, “come get it from my dead fucken hands you cheats, stuff this”. It’s an impressive tantrum but it doesn’t end there.
Todd heads to the car park and waits for the opposition players to come out. Angrily pacing around his car and practising what he’s going to say. Christ, did you just play a social game of Futsal or smoke ice Todd?
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?