The More I Back Down, the More I Become a Killer on the Court

I’m Lin Mo, the biggest coward and pushover in the eyes of the entire Premier League.

In front of people, I stammer. When they insult me, I just clutch the hem of my jersey, lower my head, and apologize. My teammates call me a useless yellow-skinned nobody, academy deadwood. I can barely force out a complete sentence. When opponents threaten to break my legs, I get so nervous I count the cracks in the floor. When reporters corner me for interviews, all I dare say is that I’m rubbish and talentless.

The whole Premier League laughs at me as the most pathetic substitute in Chelsea’s history. But no one knows the insane secret I’m hiding: the more viciously they insult and discriminate against me, the more fiercely the ruthlessness buried in my bones explodes.

One second, I’m bent over, saying I can’t do it. The next, I step onto the Stamford Bridge pitch and become someone else. I blast a thunderous shot into the top corner, then dribble past the entire defense on my own. Whether you’re Premier League bruiser Vinnie Jones or a legendary superstar from a top club, you’re nothing but someone to crush when you face me.

I even hope they’ll insult me. The more they jeer, the more thoroughly they’ll end up on their knees on the pitch. I wasn’t born a coward. I just couldn’t be bothered to act tough. When I get serious, the entire world of football has to bow its head to me.