I look in the mirror. Skinny. Ugly. At least I can’t see how short I am. I want to look like David Beckham. I want to look like Cristiano Ronaldo. O I wanted to play well today. I read this stuff online. Mum taps on my door. She says, “I got the stuff you wanted.” I look at the body spray and DVD. I think about the TV ads. I think, “You’re a skinny, ugly freak, Steve Jones.”