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Manchester United 2-0 Leicester City: Man Utd wins a soccerball game

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Manchester United scored two goals and Leicester City scored zero goals, so Manchester United win the game. That’s how the rules work.

Manchester United v Leicester City - Premier League Photo by Michael Regan/Getty Images

Manchester United won a soccerball game.

Cool. Now that we’ve covered the important bits, lemme explain how it happened. First, hi, I’m Zac. I’m crashing at Brent Maximin’s place, so as payment he made me write this match report. Okay, so let’s do this.

A quarter of an hour into the game, Jamie Vardy was nearly through on goal when Eric Bailly shouldered him off the ball pretty effortlessly. Brent said, “Another victory against racism.”

United started to take complete control, and a few minutes later scored a goal that didn’t count as a goal. Romelu Lukaku was running backward away from goal to track down the ball in the box. He spun around and shot. Saved. Juan Mata slipped the rebound into the net, but it was wrongly called offside.

A minute later, Martial chipped across entire defense. Pogba slid in but angled past the far post. For this game, his hair had “EQUALITY” buzzed into it. So that’s nice.

“United, right now, look rampant,” Arlo White, calling the game in the U.S. of A. said. He wasn’t wrong.

Next, Mata pulled the ball down and curled toward the corner. Schmeichel did one of those full sprawling picturesque saves that look gorgeous in slow-mo halftime highlight reels. Brent: “Juan Mata is fucking magic.” Why anyone would want to fuck magic is beyond me, but there you go. You heard it here first.

Also, it boggles my mind that Kasper is a good goalkeeper. His father was a good goalkeeper. When’s the last time a son was good at the same thing his father was? Never. That’s why monarchies are such dumb ideas.

While I’ve got you, another random thought: Valencia got swole. And he’s captain now? A delightful thing about Mourinho is that he understands that captaincy is dumb AF and not worth the extra fabric it entails, so he chose a pensioner like Mike Carrick. And no vice captain. So a newly swole mediocre fullback who used to be a fast but limited winger like Valencia gets to captain Manchester United. That’s cute.

At half an hour, Phil Jones headed Jamie Vardy in the face, and it was called for a foul. Brent: “That’s a foul against racism.”

Minutes later, Jones went chugging up field. He passed into the box and and kept running, and Danny Simpson just stood in his way so they slammed into each other.

Arlo: “Phil Jones is a massive unit.” Which is, coincidentally, also how one would describe my dick.

At this point the power went out in Brent’s apartment, so we missed pretty much the rest of the half flipping the breaker and restarting the TV. I hope nothing exciting happened.

About 5 minutes into the second half, United won a penalty. Leicester handballed twice in a row, and the ref called the second one. Brent leaped up to celebrate. “It was the fucking wife beater. Fuck you, Danny Simpson.” Fun fact: Danny Simpson has Brent blocked on Twitter. I can’t imagine why.

In the 69th minute (nice!), United scored. It was a bizarre corner. Substitute Rashford just sort of stood still in the middle of the box as everyone else freaked out and ran around him, apparently unable to see this kid milling about unmarked in prime real estate. Rashford kinda casually swung a leg at the ball, and it thwacked off Schmeichel into the top of the net. Goal. I imagined Rashford sticking his hands in his pockets and just sort of wandering off, unemotional about the whole thing.

With about 10 minutes left to go in the game, Manchester United was again rewarded for being better at soccer, and for Jose Mourinho wearing a bespoke suit versus Craig Shakespeare’s (no relation) garish tracksuit. Two other substitutes connected, with Jesse Lingard doing all the work to ricochet a ball off Marouane Fellaini into the net. If you ever need some big oaf to just stand there stupidly, fully ignorant that he’s part of the plot of better players are doing around him, Fellaini is your man.

That was mean. I will say that I like his highlights. (Hair, not reel.)

Anyway, it was a fun game and I enjoyed watching it with my eyes. I just have one lingering narrative question: Why would you have a racist orgy? That seems like such an unnatural pairing. I’ve never been horny and thought, “You know what would really spice this orgasm up? A nice slathering of racism.” Honestly, kind of a turnoff. Ew.