A few weeks back, Italian champions, Internazionale Milan FC was holding their preseason training at the UCLA soccer fields. Upon learning this, the first thought that popped into my mind was "I gotta meet ZLATAN!"
For those who are unaware, Zlatan Ibrahimovic was the star player for Inter as well as one of the best strikers in the world.
A few days had passed since Inter first arrived at UCLA, and I had still not yet seen any of the players. I was busy with summer school and other shit, and kept on missing the opportunities to meet some players. Many of my friends had encountered Zlatan at the school gym or other places around campus.
On one fateful day, I had just returned from class and begun to take a nap. After about 20 minutes of napping I got a phone call from my good friend Seda, using some random person's cell phone...
Me: Hello?
Seda: RUSSELL, IT'S SEDA. COME DOWN TO PAULEY RIGHT NOW! THE INTER PLAYERS ARE SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS. HURRY!
*click*
So I quickly got up from my nap and walked as fast as I could to Pauley Pavillion.
Right as I arrived at Pauley, I saw Marco Materazzi getting escorted in a golf cart to the fields. Everybody was shouting his name, "Materazzi! Materazzi!"
As he drove past me, I decided to be a little different, hoping that he would notice. I Yelled out "Hey Marco!"
He looked up at me and gave me a wave.
A few minutes later, the Swedish superstar himself made his way out of the locker room. the fans started to go crazy. "ZLATAN! ZLATAN!"
The 6'4 giant quickly got into the golf cart and drove off. As he drove, I started jumping up and down waving my arms around as if I was a 13 yr old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. "Zlatan!" I shouted continuously. The little prick ignored me (I know he heard & saw me!) and proceeded to put on his sunscreen as he got chauffeured to the soccer field.
"That little fuck!"
Inter had a scrimmage with the UCLA soccer team. It was a private match that was only open to friends/family of both teams and UCLA VIP. Seda and I quickly decided that we must see the game and see Zlatan in action.
We proceeded to get caught trying to sneak in. Twice.
Finally we decided to give up and get lunch.
After lunch, we had noticed that the scrimmage was over and players were being escorted back to the locker room and some players were signing autographs.
As Seda and I were waiting for more players to arrive, Chad "Ocho Stinko" Johnson casually walked past me with his girlfriend. Seeing as how everybody standing around was a futbol fan, he went by relatively unnoticed. I quickly turned to Seda
Me: "Seda thats fucking Ocho Cinco! where's your camera? nobody's even talking to him! I wanna get some pix w/ him"
Seda: "Russell I didn't bring it!"
Me: "fuck..."
So several Inter players arrived and signed autographs, including Cordoba, Diego Milito, and Cambiasso. I was freaking out because I didn't have anything for any of these guys to sign!
Finally, the man himself arrived!
But the little shit-stain ignored the fans and walked straight into the locker room.
After about twenty more minutes, Zlatan reappeared and began to sign autographs.
"Fuck me, this is my chance to finally meet Zlatan, and I don't have anything for him to sign or a god damn camera!"
It was at that moment that it struck me.
I took off my right shoe, and held it high in the air and ran towards the swarm of screaming fans.
As I rushed to get Zlatan's signature, I was attacked by elbows and shoves by other fans hoping to get the same signature.
"There is fucking no way that these little foreign faggots around me are gonna beat me to this. I am GOING to get Zlatan to sign this fucking shoe, even if it kills me!"
I finally pushed my way to the front and had jumped over a middle-aged Italian woman, and at long last, my stinky white Nike was perfectly placed in front of Zlatan's face. I saw him look at it. He pulled out his black sharpie and began to sign it.
"YES! SUCCESS!"
He had finished signing my shoe and moved on to the next autograph.
The excitement was killing me. It was time for me to take a look at my Nike sneaker with the brand new Zlatan Ibrahimovic signature!
I brought the shoe back down and took a look.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?!!"
The sight that lay before me had made my blood begin to boil.
"That fucking Swedish piece of shit!"That's not a fucking autograph!
As luck would have it, just a few days later, Zlatan was traded to Barcelona FC.
Coincidentally Barcelona is scheduled to arrive at UCLA this Wednesday for preseason training, meaning that I am going to find Zlatan again and demand a proper autograph!
until then, he is dead to me.
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