I would like to begin the article by shamelessly admitting that I, like innumerable others, was enthralled by football during its third wave in South-East Asia. First being the Ronaldinho wave, second, the Beckham wave and third, the Ronaldo wave. No, not the fat-now-slim-after-joining-a-reality-show Ronaldo, I’m talking about Cristiano Ronaldo, the wannabe-Nani Ronaldo.
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The disturbing photo of the fat-now-slim-after-joining-a-reality-show Ronaldo
Now, drumroll, are you ready for it, let’s get ready to suck it. Okay, on a serious note, Ronaldo is returning to Old Trafford. Woohoo. This is journalistic gold. Have a dry news day; just publish a Ronaldo remembrance piece. I mean who doesn’t miss those good ol’ days of Rooney, Ronaldo and Tevez humiliating opposing defenses.
But wait, he’ll be playing for Real Madrid now, won’t he? And he won’t show a shred of clemency will he? I mean, he doesn’t get paid a ridiculous sum of money for having emotions. So what is it that we’re celebrating? A player, no doubt one of the finest of the modern era returning to a club he once played for, or as some would suggest “He is who he is because of Man U” (take a hint plastics).
