So I’ve finally understood my role within my regular futsal team.
In that team, I’m none other than Michael Owen.
No no, not the begrudgingly good Michael Owen of Liverpool.
I’m that Michael Owen at Manchester United.
Derp, derp. Ball? I iz kick the ball?
Yes, yes, that Michael Owen who you look and wonder, wait, what’s the point of that guy again?
You see, I’m not in the first team. In fact, I’m not even the first choice substitute. I’m the guy that gets called upon when they look around the bench, see me and also an old lady mopping up the stands, thought really hard who to pick and decide to put me in eventually while heaving a loud sigh.
I cannae believe I’m doin’ this. Fuck me, get in, Mickey. Sigh.
My primary attributes are, well, I can’t dribble very well. I can’t control a high pass; I can barely control a low one. Like Michael Owen of ManYoo, my passing is abysmal; my positioning substandard.
In fact, my only purpose within the team is to be on the end of a passing move to finish it up and score. That’s right, finishing! And actually, you know what, I’m not very good at that either. I chip in with a few goals every now and then through a scuffed shot and that’s about it.
Yes folks, that’s me. The Michael Owen of Manchester United. A complete mirror image. /facepalm
Actually, you know what, I think I hustle more than Mickey when the team loses the ball. So fuck that comparison.
Me>>>>>>>>>>>> Michael Owen 
