Minute 92. Milan 0 Frosinone 0. Serie A. Gameweek 2.
Once again, Gennaro Gattuso's men are headed for yet another embarrassing draw against minnow opponents. The fruitless attacks of the Rossoneri pathetically lead to their 35th corner of the match. But Coach Rino has had enough. He had within his authority, the power to plant a tree that will bear the sweet fruit of victory, and he decided it was time enough.
The substitution board is hoisted in the air, but the numbers displayed could not be discerned, for luscious, golden dyed curls of afro styling blocked the electronic device from sight. The spectators and players alike quieted in awe of the absolute tower of a man sporting the afro-labyrinth of hair, quietly make his way on the pitch for his debut. The only sounds now were the angelic chirpings of the birds nested within the gardens of his hair, signalling the arrival of an otherworldly footballer.
He makes his way into the penalty area with graceful slides across the muddy surface. The whistle sounds and the corner is taken high. The man brute muscles his way in to the six yard box, wielding dual blade elbows, glistening red from the blood of midgets. The ball swings in hard, the keeper dives and extends the very tips of his fingernails in a brave attempt to deflect the football.
It was in vain. A massive, throbbing upper torso of great girth and width, but with the delicacy and love of a new mother's bosom, hurls itself on to the ball, chesting it down with an air of supreme dominance into the back of the net.
Calcio, thy destroyer has cometh, and his name is Marouane Fellaini.