You massive baby. You've thrown all of your toys out of your pram and started to cry because you're 2-0 down at half-time. Sometimes you don't even register a loss. You utter, utter bastard.
We're ready to start the match. Huh - someone's talking in French. That's fine, it's a beautiful language and we're keen to try our parlez vousing. We wait, patiently. They're certain to finish what they're saying soon.
But they don't. And there's nobody on the other end of the conversation. And after a minute or two, we start to wonder. Are they reading the news? Are they delirious? Is this some kind of prophecy or warning that the end of the world will come if we don't finish this race in the order he's telling us? And of course you can't mute them immediately because, as we already know, you can't pause the game. Sacre bleu!
Above: If only the reality were this glamourous
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