There will be entire volumes written about this man by us mere mortals.
I thought Pepe in his pomp was just a joy to behold, how excited I was to see his little bald head diving around the goal like a demented shiny marble.
But, this God is taking things to a new level that my heart, my mind are just not ready for. I’m growing my beard like him, I want to learn the guitar to write songs about him winning headers. I’ve heard the Chinese can alter DNA for unborn babies, maybe this specimen was the first try? Only a super computer could engineer such greatness.
I see the ultras fans give out the Golden Samba, can they get a big pair of golden goalie gloves for our DNA altered Adonnis?
He can win it every year until I die. I can’t see us ever having a better player betwix the sticks in my lifetime. Even the bluenoses are deeply in love with him, I can sense it. They have never felt love. Like a Brazilian tractor beam they are being pulled in. Pyro last week, Valentine’s cards in February.
Alisson’s A red
I was a bitter blue
But now I’ve seen the light
My heart is made anew
They’ll want us to win Number 19 by March. They’ll line the streets and clap us into St Geroge’s Hall. Hearts open.
