You might know me. I was goalkeeper for the US national team in the 1990 and 1994 World Cups. I won an MLS Cup with Kansas City in 2000. I was named to the all-time MLS XI. I'm a legend in American soccer.
Last year, I played for the New York Red Bulls. I was released in the offseason via email. When I had a bacterial infection last year in my foot and ankle, something that was potentially fatal, I found out that I had lost my starting job via email. Well Bruce, since you like using electronic communication so much, how this for you? You're a douchebag, Bruce. Your boys looked real good in Columbus. Tell Claudio how much he sucked when he's driving you to the grocery store tomorrow.
Enough about that crappy team, and back to me. I need a job. Sure, sure, the mortgage company is doing well. It's not the same though. I miss having teammates, I miss making the big save, I miss the big postgame all you can eat buffets. I miss the Powdered Doughnut Pancake Surprise in Chicago more than anything in the world.
I need a job, and I see some of the guys working, and it makes me sick. I can't even pronounce the guy's name in Columbus. Groon-baum, Green-baum, I don't know. He'll just get injured in a couple of weeks anyway, that's how they do things up there. I better get a call.
Did you see that game in Salt Lake? Nick Rimando couldn't even carry my Blueberry Cobbler, and he's starting in Utah. Way to go, costing your team the game, Nicky. Mr. Checketts, my number is in the phone book.
Before you call, just make sure that you can meet my contract requirements. I'll need 60 ripe bananas, 40 quarts of vanilla ice cream, 40 cups of sugar, 60 cherries, and 80 cans of Reddi-Wip. I've always wanted to eat myself out of a Banana Split Bath...