Because I’m in a mild Christmas mood, I wanted to call the Utrecht football club Hercules to ask if I can buy their player Tim Pieters. I wanted to give it as a personal gift to the nice Ajax coach John van ‘t Schip, who could certainly use this boy.
When I called Ajax to ask if they were interested in my Christmas present, I was told that the management was in an emergency meeting with the supervisory board. They discussed whether they would participate in the soon-to-be-established Super League. I asked the lady who spoke to me whether there was any sense of reality left at the club. To be honest, she also had to laugh at the miserable situation, but she didn’t long for the past. Ten dick pics a week from that Veluwe garden gnome was no fun in those heyday. Then just a somewhat emptier trophy cabinet. I would be called back.
An hour later, Ajax’s Chief Sports Officer called. So Maurits Hendriks. Which player was it about? Tim Pieters? He didn’t know that one. He looked in his computer, but Pieters was not in his database and that was important. That he knew exactly how many goals Tim had scored, how many assists he had given, the number of corners he had taken, how many throw-ins plus the number of headers and whether the man trained seriously. Otherwise he would call his buddy Sven Mislintat. He had left the club, but it had a much more extensive list of useful players.
I explained to Hendriks that Tim is not known to anyone, but that he recently scored two goals in an important cup match. One of those two goals was a thrilling long-range shot that has now gone viral around the world. Maurits wanted to know whether those two goals were scored against a strong opponent. No, not really a top club. A team that anyone can beat at the moment.
I also told Maurits that Tim is just a nice Utrecht corps ball who had drunk seven pieces last weekend. And that he entered the field quite ‘broke’. Because Hendriks comes from the friendly hockey world, I thought he would understand Pieters. And not just understanding, but also respect. Maurits said that he now thinks a lot more professionally. No more time for fun. I asked him at the last minute how things had gone with the Ajax team bus. Crashing into the capital at thirty kilometers per hour after such an embarrassing loss doesn’t seem like fun to me. Maybe he should apply for dispensation from Femke Halsema. That the players bus is the only one allowed to drive fifty. Maybe a hundred. Then he hung up angrily.
A little later my best friend called. We laughed about the demise of Ajax and soon talked about his Christmas dinner, which he dreads quite a bit. He has two brothers-in-law who switched to the extreme right out of dissatisfaction with the VVD’s stupid Dilan goose. He understands that you want to stay far away from that ventriloquist dummy Yesilgöz, but this switch is a bit too extreme in my friend’s liberal eyes. He wondered whether it was a good idea to wish those two beer bellies ‘enjoy your meal’ with a Hitler salute. Or will that spoil the peaceful Christmas mood?
He also wanted to keep his story within the Christmas spirit about all the family members who had fled from the Germans during the Second World War. If they had not found shelter anywhere, they would have been murdered. And then half of this table wouldn’t have been there. He also planned to say something about the war in Gaza. He is not for Israel, nor for Gaza, but for peace. Nothing more and nothing less. My friend laughed: “So it will be a risky dinner.”
I’m afraid he may leave after the appetizer. But there is a place for him in our inn in that damned canal belt.
His response?
“See you Monday.”