The Unofficial American Team Mom’s Christmas Gifts For Her Beloved Bleus (and Materazzi, Too!)

December 14th, 2006 | by: Laurie | View Comments

I just love bestowing holiday gifts on my loved ones. (And Materazzi.) So guys, here you go!

For All the Anonymous Trashers of Thierry Henry: Lumps of Coal! All of you! Because how lame and boring is it to blog about anonymous comments? (Oh, wait. It’s actually been a whole lot more fun than all those for-the-camera make-happy sessions we usually see. So never mind.)

For Thierry Henry: A new tool! From Ronco! It slices! It dices! It deflates those pesky, annoying melons énormes!! (Bonus Gift: Here’s hoping that in 2007 you receive the present of nobody else in the world finding the humor I do in the phrase “melon énorme.”) Oh, and once that melon is deflated? I’m hoping to toss in some of those soccer awards that you really do deserve.

For Raymond Domenech: Whips, chains, stun guns and duct tape, to keep Les Bleus in line, what with all the pouting and sulking and suspicion that will be going on after those anonymous melon comments. (And I won’t tell the Fair-Play Award anti-violence people.)

For Vikash Dhorasoo: An audience for your lovely, melancholic, headbutt-free little art film. And a lifetime supply of Body Nair.

For Barthez: A signed contract. Even if it is with a team that currently sucks. (And no spitting at the referee this time. I mean it, Fabien.)

For Djibril Cissé: A milk mustache and a lifetime supply of Fosamax.

For Patrick Vieira: New elastic for your shorts. Or at least some interesting boxers to liven up the view.

For Nicolas Anelka: A full year with one club. (What a novel concept!) And a 2007 in Bleu showing all of us how delightfully bad you can really be.

For Trézéguet: A “Men In Black”-type memory erasing device that can wipe all thoughts of 2006 from your mind forever. (Well, maybe it can leave in some Juve stuff and that Faroe Islands game. But that Coup de Boule song is so gone.)

For Coupet: Health, happiness and well-being that lasts through World Cup 2010. And a coach who won’t hold your astrological sign against you.

For Zidane. Ah, Zizou. Where do I start? How about a clown wig and Groucho glasses so that nobody will recognize you the next time you slip out for a little tryst? And a copy of Headbutt, The Video Game. And a great huge Team Mom hug for spending so many years being so freakin’ wonderful.

And last, and least, for Marco Materazzi: An alarm clock, set to go off when your fifteen minutes of fame are up. Oh, wait, what is that I hear right now?

And for every single Bleu — player, coach, and staff, past, present and future: A huge thank you for a wonderful year, and for making my obsession with your team so exciting and enjoyable!!

(Oh, and one more. For my Sister-In-Blog, Martha, for sharing both my unusual sense of humor and my completely out-of-proportion amusement with the phrase “melon énorme“: Your own personal soccer superstar with the skills and sweet, furry looks of Luis Figo. You deserve it.)

(And for those of you who are Muslim or whatever… Well, no offense intended. Just take the gift and say thank you, okay?)