Andy Morton, affectionately known to his teammates as ‘Glove-Dog Millionaire’, has been forced to question the very fabric of reality this week after being betrayed by his most-trusted piece of equipment last Saturday.
Morton had sauntered towards a slow-falling, flat pull with the confidence of a man seemingly immune to drops. The seasoned glove wearer was too shocked for words when the pull, described by bystanders as “very catchable”, bobbled out of his hands. He has been in a state of irreparable existential dismay ever since.
“WHHHHHYYYYYYYYY?”, yelled Morton to no-one in particular, multiple times, well after the point, game, and tournament had finished.
The opposition, once the fits of laughter had stopped, worked in their short-field offence without issue. In fact it was Morton’s match-up that caught the goal unguarded, having simply jogged away from his deeply distraught defender. ‘Glove-Dog Millionaire’ was reportedly too concerned with the meaninglessness of his existence to play good defence. His teammates described his footwork as “sloppy” and “a little preoccupied with the futility that haunts the human experience”.
Now a shell of his former self, the handler declined to comment on the likelihood of wearing his treacherous mittens again in the future. He also refused to deny that his “high-performance sports handwear” is actually just a pair of unremarkable green gardening gloves with a lick of black paint. He did however mutter something about the five laws of friction being “a crock of shit”.