Day 9

After watching the Mexico v France game the other night I've had confirmed what I've suspected for a while. Frank Ribery is rubbish. Despite being one of the most wanted players in European football he is utter bum. This is a short story where I've rewritten the popular fable The Emperor's New Clothes, but replaced any mentions of clothes with Frank Ribery, and any references to the two 'swindlers', the villains in Hans Christian Anderson's story, with football agents. Who are bad too. You can read the original version of the story here.

The emperor's new Frank Ribery

Many years ago there was an Emperor so exceedingly fond of Frank Ribery that he spent all his money on Frank Ribery. He cared nothing about reviewing his soldiers, going to the theatre, or going for a ride in his carriage, except to show off his new Frank Ribery.

In the great city where he lived, life was always gay. Every day many strangers came to town, and among them one day came two fat men. They let it be known they were football agents, and they said they could weave the most magnificent deal imaginable. Not only were the players they represented uncommonly fine, but players made of this cloth had a wonderful way of becoming brilliant to anyone who was unfit for his office, or who was unusually stupid.

"This would be just the attacking midfielder for me," thought the Emperor. "If I put him in the middle of the park then I would be able to discover which men in my empire are unfit for their coaching posts. And I could tell the wise men from the fools." He paid the two football agents a large sum of money to start work at once.

"I'll send my honest old minister to training," the Emperor decided. "He'll be the best one to tell me how Frank Ribery looks, for he's a sensible man and no one does his duty better."

So the honest old minister went to the room where the two agents sat working away at Frank Ribery.

"Heaven help me," he thought as his eyes flew wide open, "I can't see anything at all". But he did not say so.

The poor old minister couldn't see anything, because there was nothing to see. "Heaven have mercy," he thought. "Can it be that I'm a fool? I'd have never guessed it, and not a soul must know. Am I unfit to be the minister? It would never do to let on that I can't see the midfield talents of Frank Ribery."

"Don't hesitate to tell us what you think of it," said one of the agents.

"Oh, he's beautiful - enchanting." The old minister peered through his spectacles. "Such a passer of the ball, what a left peg!" I'll be sure to tell the Emperor how delighted I am with him."

"We're pleased to hear that," the agents said. They proceeded to name all of Frank Ribery's qualities and to explain his intricate passing abilitie. The old minister paid the closest attention, so that he could tell it all to the Emperor. And so he did.

The agent at once asked for more money to get on with the Frank Ribery deal. But it all went into their pockets.

The Emperor presently sent another trustworthy official to see how the work progressed and how soon it would be ready. The same thing happened to him that had happened to the minister. He looked and he looked, but there was nothing to see in Frank Ribery.

"Isn't he a beautiful piece of French talent?" the agents asked him.

"I know I'm not stupid," the man thought, "so it must be that I'm unworthy of my good office. That's strange. I mustn't let anyone find it out, though." So he praised the Frank Ribery he did not see. He declared he was delighted with the beautiful and exquisite Frank Ribery. To the Emperor he said, "Frank Ribery held me spellbound."

All the town was talking of this splendid Frank Ribery, and the Emperor wanted to see him for himself. Attended by a band of chosen men, among whom were his two old trusted officials, he set out to see the two agents.

"Magnificent," said the two officials already duped. "Just look, Your Majesty, what a midfielder!"

"What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can't see anything. This is terrible! Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the Emperor? What a thing to happen to me of all people! - Oh! It's very pretty," he said. "It has my highest approval." And he nodded approbation at Frank Ribery. Nothing could make him say that he couldn't see Frank Ribery.

But they all joined the Emperor in exclaiming, "Oh! Frank Ribery is very pretty," and they advised him to play in this World Cup that was soon to happen. "Magnificent! Excellent! Unsurpassed!" were bandied from mouth to mouth, and everyone did his best to seem well pleased. The Emperor gave each of the agents a cross to wear in his buttonhole.

Before the procession the agents sat up all night and burned more than six candles, to show how busy they were finishing the Emperor's Frank Ribery. And at last they said, "Now the Emperor's Frank Ribery is ready."

Then the Emperor himself came with his noblest noblemen, and the agents each raised an arm as if they were holding something. They said, "Here is Frank Ribery. He is ace."

"Exactly," all the noblemen agreed, though they could see nothing, for there was nothing to see.

So off went Frank Ribery onto the pitch. Everyone in the streets and the windows said, "Oh, how fine is the Emperor's New Frank Ribery! Doesn't he fit into the midfield diamond with perfection!" Nobody would confess that he couldn't see anything, for that would prove him either unfit for his position, or a fool.

"But he hasn't got anything on," a little child said.

"Did you ever hear such innocent prattle?" said its father. And one person whispered to another what the child had said, "He hasn't anything on. A child says he hasn't anything on."

"But he hasn't got anything on!" the whole town cried out at last.

The Emperor shivered, for he suspected they were right. And he said yes, "This boy's right. Frank Ribery hasn't even got any shorts on."



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