Every now and then, it’s said that you can find a person in the world who looks exactly like you, without any of the slightest deviations you would expect to see. These people are referred to by the German word doppelganger, and at the greatest football club in the world, it seems like my whole life has been reproduced and placed upon a pitch for me to watch in utter confusion.
Firstly we have Joe Allen, otherwise known as the Welsh Xavi.
The red-bearded midfielder, when clean-shaven, looked like your typical lad from the British Isles. However, once he decided to make the caveman transition, he bore a striking resemblance to my friend, we’ll call him Nabeel.
At left-back, I never had the same relationship with Aly Cissokho as Alberto Moreno, because Moreno looks distinctly look a young version of my father. As if that weren’t strange enough, during his various interviews and posts on social media it’s as if he’s piercing the third wall and gazing directly into the essence of my soul.
Nathaniel Clyne plays a masterclass week in and week out, at least compared to Glen Johnson, and just so happens to look like another friend of mine; we’ll call him Trey.
A light film covers my eyes as I put pen to paper to publish this piece upon the forum established for sometimes more serious work. I can’t seem to tell whether or not this coincidence is a direct result of truth placed before my eyes, or if the 0-0 draw against Sion was the final straw upon the back of a weight bearing camel who has tried to keep it together for many years.
Sweet hallucinations turn the footballers running about the pitch into characters from my own life, and my connection to the squad only grows in fervor. Call me crazy, call me lost in the sauce if you will, but I think it’s safe to say we all see a little bit of ourselves in the Redmen.
