With the exciting news that Cristiano Ronaldo knocked up an American hottie (one of our best exports) and is now trying to play it off as a cover-up/surrogate situation, the United States national team might have finally turned a corner in international soccer. This is the break that Sunil Gulati and Bob Bradley have needed for decades, we could finally have our superstar to get us into the World Cup semifinals and now we just need some clever diplomacy to make sure this bastard son plays for the U.S.A.
Thanks to Ronaldo’s wayward cock, which has apparently veered and bent its way into an American woman like a hovering Jubalani off a free kick, the United States has uncovered the prospect of its dreams. Is there any way that whatever shady agreement between Ronaldo and this mystery woman that gives him sole custody can still land the son with an American passport?
Technically speaking if your mother is American, then you qualify for citizenship and the inalienable right to become an obnoxious tourist who asks locals in Paris where the nearest McDonalds is located. I don’t really see why it should be an issue when you consider how every other country find loopholes to load their rosters with superstars. I don’t think there is a single player on the French national team that has actually ever been to France. If the World Cup allows for nationals of former colonies to play for their colonizers, then a baby-momma situation seems completely by the books.
Basically is there a way that a soccer superstar can pay off a girl that got liquored up and seduced into pregnancy by a GQ coverboy to give up custody while having the state department intervene on the negotiations? Why can’t we use this as Scott Boras’ chance to repay his debt to the country that lets him ruin every other sport by letting him save soccer? There is no reason that this can’t be included as an addendum to the contract between Ronaldo and the mother of future soccer Michael Jordan.
The most important question seems to be why this little twist wasn’t involved in Nike’s Write The Future ad. Maybe it’s on the director’s cut after Ronaldo unveils his statue in downtown Lisbon and guest stars on the Simpsons. He misses the free kick (vaguely reminiscent of every single game he played in during the 2010 World Cup), drinks his sorrows away and sleeps with the first pretty American he sees. She gets knocked up, he’s got Tiger Woods’ exemplary Write the Future looming over his head and adopts the kid to save face. The ad continues on with the pains of fatherhood, having to wake up at five A.M. to feed the brat when he needs his eight hours before Real Madrid training camp. He craps out in two years and finds himself on Fox Football Phone-In on Saturdays at 11 at night.
Write the future, Ronaldo. And, thanks to a hot American who was too drunk to remember that sex without a condom is a leading cause of pregnancy, he has written the future for American soccer. And it looks grand.