The Liverpool manager flies to Baghdad to watch a young Iraqi play
football and is suitably impressed and arranges him to come over to
Anfield.
Two weeks later Liverpool are 4-0 down to Man Utd with only 20
minutes left. The manager gives the young Iraqi striker the nod and on he
goes.
The lad is a sensation, scores 5 goals in 20 minutes and wins the game
for Liverpool.
The fans are delighted, the players and coaches are delighted and the
media love the new star.
When the player comes off the pitch he phones his mum to tell her
about his first day in English football.
“Hello mum, guess what?” he says in an Iraqi accent. “I played for 20
minutes today, we were 4-0 down but I scored 5 and we won. Everybody
loves me, the fans, the media, they all love me.”
“Wonderful,” says his mum, “Let me tell you about my day. Your father
got shot in the street and robbed, your sister and I were ambushed gang
raped and beaten and your brother has joined a gang of looters, and all
while you were having such great time.”
The young lad is very upset, “What can I say mum, but I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?!!! Sorry?!!!” says his mum, “It’s your bloody fault we moved
to Liverpool!”
