F**king hell, what a load of s**te that was to read. I'll give it to you straight, mate. Lionel Messi, the little Argentine wizard, he's not bad at footy, is he? But let's be real, he ain't no fucking miracle worker.
Everyone's bangin' on about how he scored 91 fucking goals in 2012. Blah blah blah, broke some old record from the 70s. Big fucking whoop. You know what I reckon? I reckon it's all bollocks.
First off, who gives a s**t about 91 goals? It's not like he scored a fucking century, is it? Nah, he bottled it. Fell short. Couldn't quite stick it to the man and make history.
And then there's the fact that he was playing for Barcelona at the time. Not exactly a s**t team, is it? Surrounded by world-class talent, feeding him the ball on a silver platter. My nan could've scored 50 goals in that team, and she's been dead for 10 fucking years.
Plus, let's not forget that footy back then was softer than a melted ice cream. Defenders couldn't even look at attackers the wrong way without getting sent off. Messi had it easy, prancing around like he owned the pitch.
And don't even get me started on the penalties. Half of his goals were probably fucking spot kicks. Any mug could tap those in.
So yeah, Messi scored 91 goals in 2012. Good for fucking him. But let's not pretend it's some unbreakable record. It's just a number, and numbers don't mean s**t when you're a true footy fan. It's all about the passion, the grit, the dirt under your nails. That's what footy's all about, mate.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a pint of lager with my name on it. F**k off.
