Beside Myself


For reasons best left undisclosed right now, I recently unearthed my model of retired Danish footballer Peter Schmeichel. Now, I don’t know the difference between football and soccer – but thanks to this figurine of Schmeichel, that I bought from Good Sammy’s in Fremantle about three years ago, he is one of only two players that I can name from the latter half of the 20th century. Kevin Keegan is the other. Don’t know why. Yeah, and I guess George Best. And I suppose David Beckham, but you get the point.

I know as much about the “World Game” as the W.A. State Government knows about keeping its nose clean. And speaking of noses, the one on the plastic model of Schmeichel is about the only thing that bears a slight resemblance to the man himself. I was showing him off to some colleagues the other day at work and they said, “Nah – he looks more like Gary Busey in POINT BREAK.”

Wonder if the unlikeness was a case of ineptitude or design? You do hear of some celebrities not wanting their plastic simulacra to be right on the money, likeness-wise. This could be because there are superstitious, voodoo-esque concerns going on in their minds – if I may stoop to psychoanalyse, Doctor Phil-style, some thousands upon thousands of hypothetical celebrities and their merch clones. Kindly, I have provided you with a photo of the model and one of the real Schemichel so you can make up your own minds on this important matter.

Hang on, I just remembered the great Pele. Oops! That’s a bit like forgetting Ali when you’re thinking about boxing. And weirdly, I remember Salvatore Schillaci, because I saw a lot of World Cup 1990 because that’s what my friends were doing at the time. And I just had to go along with it.

Peer pressure. We’ve all been there.


Mr Trivia

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