The manager of a Liverpool football club flew out to Iraq to watch a young local star play.
He was very impressed, and soon arranged for him to join the club. Two weeks later Liverpool was playing Manchester, but with only 20 minutes to go they were down four nil. The manager gave his new Iraqi striker the nod, so on he went, scored five goals in the 20 minutes, and won the game.
The coach, manager and fans were delighted, while the media loved the new star. When they come off the field at last the new boy couldn’t wait to call his mum and tell her about his first day of English football. “Hello? Guess what, mum? I played for 20 minutes today. We were 4 goals down, but I scored five before the siren, and WE WON!!! Everybody loves me! The fans, the media, the coach. Oh, It’s so great, mum.”
“Wonderful,” says his mum. “Let me tell you about MY day. Your father got shot in the street and robbed. Your sister and I were ambushed, gang raped and beaten, your brother has joined a gang of looters, and all this while you, young man, were having such a very great time.”
“Oh, mum, I’m so sorry,” the young man sobbed. “That’s terrible.”
“Sorry? Sorry?” Screamed his mum down the phone. “It’s your fault we moved to Liverpool in the first place.”
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