A Vacation from My Problems!!

Koman Coulibaly was tired of refereeing and felt that he needed to take a well deserved vacation.  Being a Ref was hard!  Sometimes people did not agree with his decisions and questioned his judgment which was insane.  His word was final and his rulings were beyond reproach.  Koman Coulibaly settled in at his local Starbucks because it was the only place in hundreds of kilometers that had internet access and began clicking away on Orbitz to book the holiday of his dreams.

There were so many places to visit!  His fingers flipped clumsily along his Accer laptop scrolling through the many options available to him.  In the back of the Starbucks a baby began to whimper softly.  Koman Coulibaly immediately jumped to his feet and blew his whistle (he never went anywhere without his whistle) at the startled baby and her mother and drew a yellow card from his pocket.  The baby cried louder and Koman Coulibaly returned to his table, oblivious to the stares of the other patrons.  Finally, after minutes of exhausted searching Koman Coulibaly found a locale that suited all of his prerequisites:someplace warm, nice beaches and friendly people.  And the price!  The price was rock bottom!  He would be able to stretch his FIFA dollars much further in:where was it again?  Oh right, Louisiana.  Louisiana was a beautiful destination and it was in America, a country where he was universally beloved–he couldn’t wait!  He purchased his tickets and went home to pack as quickly as possible.  On his way out the door he passed a small man carrying an attaché case and blew his whistle at him as well, shaking his head in warning.  He thought about carding the man but decided the stern admonition was enough.

On his way to the airport the next day Koman Coulibaly’s taxi took him past a mugger robbing an old lady of her necklace and bible.  Koman Coulibaly hung out the window and spread his arms wide—”Play on!” he shouted from the slowly moving cab.  Both the mugger and the woman stared at him in disbelief as the cab rounded a corner, billowing exhaust from the rusted tailpipe.  Koman Coulibaly’s flight to New Orleans was uneventful.  He’d twice been awoken from his slumber by the Stewardess who was assisting an elderly passenger to the lavatory and after the Stewardess had collected her second yellow card he had opened the emergency exit door and thrown her out of the airplane but other than that there had been minimal disturbances.  Upon touchdown in America, Koman Coulibaly went straight to the beach and was immediately pleased with the natural wonder and beauty of Louisiana’s pristine coastline.  Equally amazing were how few people were out enjoying the day.

"On Form!" Shouted Koman

Koman Coulibaly took a deep breath of the wonderful, gasoline scented air and filled his lungs with the caustic oil smell.  “Beautiful!” he thought to himself.  He ran through the oil encrusted sand, thinking that the thick tar balls that stuck to his feet were one of the most pleasant sensations he had ever felt.  Koman Coulibaly dove headfirst into the playful surf and swam 25:50:100 meters from the beach, reveling in the thick sludge, slapping his palms together with joy.  Several dead dolphins and manatees floated past and he booked them all summarily into his score sheet.  He tried to whistle them as well but his trusted piece had been gummed up with small bits of black goo.  “No worries,” he said to himself, a dead pelican washing past him, “I can always get another with the monies I’ve saved.”  He then swam back to shore.

After toweling off Koman Coulibaly made his way back to the Sandyland Hotel where he bumped into BP’s CEO Tony Hayward who was smoking cigars and getting ready to embark on his yacht race.  Tony Hayward loved cigars so much that he employed a small group of vagrant Cuban boys to follow him around and constantly roll him new cigars whenever the fancy took him.  As Koman walked past, Tony was berating one of the children for not packing the leaves tightly enough and threatened to have him deported unless his technique improved.  Koman Coulibaly nodded and raised his arms, palms up, “Play on!” he shouted.  Tony looked at him and gave a small nod of his bulbous head, the last rays of the beautiful sunset reflected splendidly in his monocle.

Koman Coulibaly changed into his evening wear and made straight for the restaurant attached to the Sandyland Hotel.  On the way in he happened to run into fellow referee Frank De Bleeckere, who had refed the USA-Algeria match who was also on vacation as well.  While Koman Coulibaly was confident he was the greatest referee in the world he felt that De Bleeckere was easily the second best and had also never made a bad call in his life.  “What luck, seeing you here, Coulibaly!”  De Bleeckere shouted across the deserted restaurant.  Koman Coulibaly bleeted his whistle in salutation.  “Come on over and join me for these wonderful oysters de petrol, you’ll love them!”  De Bleeckere continued.

Coulibaly happily sauntered across the desolate interior to his compatriot.  As he approached, De Bleeckere jumped past him, a wily glint in his eye.  “Ha ha!  You’re offsides!  You’ve fallen for the oldest trick in the book!”  Koman Coulibaly reached into his pocket for his yellow card and held it aloft for the old woman working behind the bar to see.  De Bleeckere continued to mock him, producing a flag from his pocket and holding it up.  “Offsides, offsides!” he shouted again and again.  Enraged, Coulibaly fished around for his red card and again showed it to the woman behind the bar, who had fallen asleep, overcome by the noxious fumes rising from the ocean.

Eventually the two men settled their hostilities by sitting at adjoining tables, De Bleeckere careful to ensure that they stayed level at all times.  After wolfing down three helpings of the marvelous oysters de petrol Koman Coulibaly leaned back in his chair and heaved a contended sigh of happiness.  A holiday in the beautiful gulf coast was truly the best.  Once he was home to planned to write up a full review of his journey on Orbitz trip advisor but that was something to think about later.  Weary from his long flight and day in the sun he made it back to his hotel where he plopped into bed and slept a deep and satisfying slumber.  He was awakened once during the night when Sarah Palin checked into the room next door, he stuck his head out the door to card her but once he realized who it was he slapped her a high five and gave her a big grin and a thumbs up before going back to bed.