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Hernan Vazquez could feel his shackles rising as he watched over and over again the most insensitive dialogue from cartoon history that he had ever seen.
'Get me the President!' Vazquez shouted in his intercom.
'Yes sir' His secretary squealed, 'right away sir'
A few minutes later she came back to him 'President Munitez is erm, busy at the moment, sir'
'I don't care if he's photographing his wife being screwed by a Llama, I want him on the phone now! Tell him it's a matter of National Security!'
Two minutes later, the President's gruff voice came over the line,
'What is it now Vazquez' he drawled wearily, ' I was in the middle of something'
'Yes sir Mr President, we can all guess what you were in the middle of, but if you can put aside your pleasure for a brief second we have an urgent matter of National Security!'
The President sighed. The Secretary of Defence was always finding these 'National Security' alerts, and it was becoming rather tedious by now.
'Well Vazquez what is it this time?'
'It's..... well, it's.... oh for feck sake, you simply have to come and see yourself, this is incredible. We will need to declare war!'
Two hours later, the cabinet was in full session and President Munitez was wearing as grim a face as he could muster.
'Play it one more time' He commanded, 'We must be sure we have not misunderstood'
On the screen a fat, balding yellow man was spinning a globe of the world round when suddenly he stopped it, pointed to the globe and exclaimed, 'Look at this country, U R Gay!'
The fat, balding yellow man in the cartoon laughed his arse off, but the cabinet was far from amused. It was clear they had to take action, and take action they would.
'I suggest' Vazquez proposed when those who had fallen off their chairs had clambered back on, 'that send a very strong letter of protest to Mr Bush. As it so happens I have drafted one right here'
'Dear Mr Bush
We the people of Uruguay are extremely offended at the portrayal of our country, by a fat, balding yellow man in a cartoon as being called U R Gay. Whilst we do not have anything against gays - as long as the faggots keep to themselves - we cannot stand by and allow your nation to take the pish out of ours and we demand a full and unpredjudiced appology from a one 'Homer Simpson' whom we demand be sent to Uruguay to face to punished.
We are not gay, we are not stupid and Homer Simpson must pay for his crimes. And by the way, we have won the World Cup more times than you have so please don't diss us.
Yours scincerely,
The People of Uruguay'
'Excellent' President Munitez beamed, 'That is sure to have them quaking in their boots. Oh but Vazquez, drop the faggots line - We don't want the Yanks thinking we are anti-semetic'
The ball floated in from the left by Phillipe Vorbe, Fernanzez rose majestically to head the ball past the outstretched arms of the Brazilian keeper and against all the odds, Haiti had won the 1974 World Cup Final! As he pulled off his shirt and ran to the celebrating Haiti fans, Fernandez could hear a strange, loud beeping noise in his ear and it was only after a few minutes of wondering what the hell was going on that he realised it was his alarm clock. It was time to get up.
Of course Enrique Fernandez had not scored the winning goal of the 1974 World Cup Final. If he had have done, we would all instantly know who he was and he would probably not be sleeping in this damp, musky one bedroom flat, alone and near destitute. He would probably not have a crappy little job at a crappy mid-table Second Division club, and he would almost certainly not have been divorced from his three ex-wives. In fact with a bit of luck he would never have met them.
Enrique Fernandez though had indeed actually been at the 1974 World Cup as part of the all conquering Haiti squad. Well when I say I all conquering I mean, well, rubbish. Having lost 3-1 to Italy, 7-0 to Poland and 4-1 to Argentina, Haiti had been sent home in shame - but it was hardly as if anything more had been expected and the honour of their country had been simply in reaching the Finals. The fact that the government had threatened to shoot every single member of the squad was put down in the end as being a little joke. Enrique Fernandez had not found it funny, because he of all people knew that the President had actually been deadly serious.
As Enrique got dressed in his mundane clothes and poured a bowl of cornflakes, his early morning routine was shattered by a severe hammering on the front door. Enrique froze. He did not think it was time for him to pay his rent, he could not think of any debts he might he owe and he was half way wondering what else someone might be hammering so hard on his door about when the door crashed to the floor and four men in dark suits, dark glasses and carrying rather AK-47's literally fell into his flat.
'You must come with us' Said the rather fat baldy one, pointing his AK 47 right at Enrique.
Ignoring the gun at his head, Enrique was outraged.
'You have broken my door!' He exclaimed.
'Erm yes' the rather skinny man with the large wart on his nose said, 'We are most sorry, but there is not time to worry about that. You must come with us. NOW!'
Enrique Fernandez was in no position to argue.
'Oh but please Mr Fernandez', the fat balding man sighed, 'put some clothes on.'
Yeah yeah so I wasn't going to write another story. You can blame two things for this. Firstly you can blame Terk for starting his story 'Kids', linking it to Bringing Up Baby, and also looking through the archives. It suddenly dawned on me that I have never written a story based in South America, and it also dawned on me that in fact such a base could be quite a good setting for my dark, vaguely humorous style of writing.
And I always wanted to use that episode of the Simpons. It was quite funny. And so I will be managing a club side in Uruguay and also the Haiti national side. That should be quite interesting by itself - they only have 48 players in the db.
Will that work? I loaded the French Leagues thinking Haiti has a link with France but after that I wasn't sure where else cos there is no Haitian league
You could hardly describe Uruguay Montevideo as big club. Founded in 1921, they have never played at the top level of Uruguayan football and have never even come close to playing there. When, in 1993, the club lifted the Metropolitan Division Title - the equivalent of the Third Division - upon opening the trophy room there was mass of cobwebs and spiders to get through in order to display the magnificent award for all to see. Nine years later the Metropolitan title came again to the tiny, 3000 capacity Parque ANCAP in Montevideo but there was still no need to add any more shelves to the trophy room - success was not about to come calling in a big way.
It would come as no surprise therefore, that the appointment of Juan Sebastien Juarez as the new manager of the club whose park was standing room only, did not make any headlines in the national press. No camera crews came calling on Juarez, there was no press conference and quite honestly no-one gave a damn. And why should they. Its not as if Juarez was a well known figure in Uruguayan football, its not as if he was involved in any way with South American drugs barons. Well actually he was, but it was hardly as if he was going to splash that story about.
Juan Sebastien Juarez was, like the club he had just been appointed to manager, a loser when it came to footballing terms. He had never played higher than the Metropolitan Division and when the bug European clubs had come to raid the talent from these shores, no-one in their right mind -or even their wrong one - was ever going to be looking at Juan. Not even if he stripped naked. In fact particularly if he had stripped naked - Juan Sebastien Juarez was no Mr Universe.
And so a nobody took over a club that nobody cared about and nobody gave a damn. Thats hardly an inspiring story.
U R Gay and I Haiti U! 
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