Spice Girl arm candy David Beckham was the victim of a royal snub Thursday when it was announced he wouldn’t be invited to play on the British roster for the London Olympics.
It’s a tough pill to swallow for Becks, who’s played more matches for England’s national team than any other outfield player in history. To give so much to your country only to be denied your swan song on the international stage, it must feel terrible. Like getting kicked in the groin, except in the heart.
Good thing he’s still in America. Our enthusiasm for aging superstars never falters. We cherish them long after their dignity and talent and wealth have expired. We give them reality shows, we buy their crappy products, we greet their legal and domestic issues with a reckless degree of mercy.
I guess what I’m getting at, David, is that I think you should strongly consider renouncing England and adopting the United States as your permanent home. The queen has forsaken you; wrest yourself from her tentacular clutch. Not to mention you totally look like Guy Fawkes now, and the English burn effigies of him every November.
In America, we have opportunities for you that will continue into old age. We have health care for all. We have guys such as Hulk Hogan and Jose Canseco who can show you how to maintain an illusion of relevance. We have motorized scooters to help you around the grocery store.
And you already have so much going for you here! You have a soccer team that loves the heck outta ya. You have business endeavors with Snoop Dogg (How could they possibly fail?!?). Tom Cruise wants to be in movies with you (coming soon: "Fop Gun: Scallywags in Aeroplanes"). And your £125 million net worth practically doubles when converted to dollars ... kinda.
The only thing that doesn’t seem like a great fit is your wife, as “Posh” isn’t a very compatible concept here. Maybe you could consider swapping the missus for someone with a more classic American vibe, like Courtney Love or Octomom. Your kids should get along just fine here -- just make sure you’re feeding them lots of oily matter, and they should be sporting knuckle dimples in no time!
So what do you say, David, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal? When George W. Bush said to “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,” I think the message was pretty much directly aimed at athletes in the twilight of their usefulness.
So will you join us? Will you become a lifelong taxpayer in this debt-ridden super republic, and proudly don the red, white and blue? If so, you can wager your Wranglers there’ll be a spot waiting for you on the U.S. Olympic soccer team. That’s a promise.