He’s not that kind of player

After watching the video that showed his midfielder breaking an opposing forward’s leg, the manager looked up at the sea of reporters before him, shook his head and said: “He’s just not that type of player.”

“Look,” he said. “The boy has no bad blood in him whatsoever. There was nothing malicious in the tackle. I feel bad for the other guy, it’s a terrible, terrible accident and I wish him the best in his recovery, but it’s wrong to demonize the boy for going into a tackle. Football is a contact sport! Are we going to tell players not to tackle anymore?”

The manager replayed the video, which showed his player rushing after a ball that he was always going to be late to, making no effort to play it but rather going to ground with both studs up for no other discernible reason than to go through his counterpart to let him know that “he’s there.” To reassert the notion of toughness that he’s been taught for his entire playing career. He then wrapped both of his legs around the man with the ball for good measure. The cheers of the crowd for the tackle was loud enough that all the reporters could hear it.

As his victim writhed and screamed in agony, staring in terror at his leg which was now bent in a C-shape, and a collective of his teammates and opponents hunched over after hearing the sickening crunch of a leg snapped in half, the tough-tackling, no-nonsense hardman, who will later send his well wishes to his victim in the hospital in an obvious PR effort, told the referee to “piss off” for booking him for the challenge.

Rather than rush to the side of the player whose leg he turned into a pirate hook, the midfield enforcer put his hands on his hips and shook his head in disbelief as athletic trainers ran onto the field with a stretcher. He then made a diving motion with his hands to insinuate that the player whose leg now looked like a drawing of a mountain, dove and was now overreacting to a simple challenge.

The midfielder then walked off the field, incensed and cursing about being sent off, as the injured player was taken into an ambulance.

The manager turned the video off. “I just don’t see it. He got the ball as clear as a whistle. This is a witch hunt, that’s what you media people do, you’re going to ruin this boy’s reputation because of an unfortunate situation.”

A reporter then asked about a previous incident with the player, where he was booked for elbowing and subsequently breaking a defender’s nose. The manager responded that it was an accident, “these things happen all the time.”

Another reporter asked of the time that the same player was sent off for stamping on an opponent’s leg, and what the manager made of the time before that when he was carded for a bad tackle that forced a promising young player to miss an entire year of football, too. Or even the numerous times that he wasn’t booked but was involved in spats with other players after delivering a bad challenge.

“Look, I’ve known him since he was a small boy,” said the manager. “I’ve watched him go through the ranks and if I thought that he was a dirty player, I would have never called him up. But this is just part of the game. He’s making tackles. That’s what players should do. We don’t want them to be soft. We want them to be passionate, to be tough, to go in 100 percent of the time. This is what Roy Keane would have done. If you want to say that he’s a dirty player because he’s broken a few legs, smashed a few noses, spat on one or two players, and shredded several ankle ligaments, then that’s up to you. But I know this boy, and I know he’s not that kind of player.”

Questioned on what the player would have to do to be labeled “that kind of player,” the manager responded that he didn’t know. “It’s hard to really gauge the intent behind a tackle. I guess he would actually have to kill someone on the field.”

He took a sip from his water bottle, cleared his throat and said: “It’s not like the player who had his leg broken was an angel either. He was asking for it.”