The Germans were celebrating in the locker room, spraying each other with bottles of champagne, and drinking beer out of huge steins. Team captain Philipp Lahm, shirtless and glistening, called for their attention. With the 18 carat, solid gold trophy in one hand and a beer in the other, he said, “I want to say three things. One, you are the worst bunch of soccer players I have ever had the displeasure of working with.” The room erupted in applause. “Two, this is the best beer I have ever tasted.” Another massive cheer. “And three, I know that the people of Munich will be very grateful when this cup returns home with me.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said goaltender Manuel Neuer. “Home with you? I don’t think so.”
“Yeah. I’m the captain. It goes home with me.”
“Wait,” said Midfielder Tony Kroos. “I thought we would all get tiny cups of our own that we could put on ropes and wear around our necks.”
Neuer slapped him in the back of the head. “No, you idiot. It’s The World Cup not The 23 Tiny World Cups For Everyone To Wear Around Their Necks Like A Bunch Of Cunts.” Everyone was mad at Tony for only scoring three goals all tournament. “There’s got to be a solution to this.”
“There is,” said Mario Gotze. “And it’s me. I won the game. I get to decide what to do with the cup and I say it comes home me. On a big rope around my neck.”
“No, no. We’ll move it around. Every week the cup stays with a different player,” suggested Kroos.
“Shut the fuck up, Tony,” Yelled the captain. “Fifty-two weeks a year isn’t enough. It took more than players to win this cup. It also took coaches, trainers, and support staff. What about each and every German who supported us? What about Pedro over there.” He motioned to the fifteen year old Brazilian boy who traveled every day from a jungle village to serve them towels. “Pedro deserves this win just as much as we do. So does his village. So does is father who is dying of – Pedro what is he dying of?”
“He was hired to clear this land to build the stadium and an angry goat kicked him in the spine. He’s been on his last day for the past 18 months.”
“Jesus Christ. You see boys? Doesn’t Pedro’s father deserve at least the right handle of this cup?” The team fell silent, shamed by the realization. The captain continued, “If we’re going to share this cup, we’re going to share it with every single person who helped achieve it. And we’re starting with Pedro.”
The whole team applauded as the captain handed the massive gold cup to Pedro. The boy embraced it delicately and let a single tear roll down his cheek. Later that day, he took the cup to a pawn shop where he sold it for a eighty-five dollars.