Blimey, who’d of guessed eh? Me, John Terry, European Champion. Sure, I’ve done a lot in my career. I’ve captained Chelsea and England. I’ve won Premier League titles and FA Cups. But to score the equaliser against Bayern Munich and then the winning penalty in the shoot out? Well, it’s literally the stuff of dreams.
People have been writing me off all my life but I’ve always proven them wrong. They were writing me off before the final too. “You’re suspended,” they all said, “you can’t bloody play John.” But I did, didn’t I? Proved them wrong again. Don’t believe me? Who’s that helping Frank lift the cup, in full kit (with shinpads) and all? Why it’s me, big JT. Why would I be wearing the full kit (with shinpads) if I didn’t play? I’d have to be some kind of narcissistic, egotistical fantasist to change into my full kit (with shinpads) part way through a game I was suspended for just so it would look like I’d played when people look back at the post game photos.
That’s not what I’m all about. Just ask Neil Armstrong. When we landed on the moon together I didn’t make it all about me. “You go first, big man,” I said to Neil. Let him do all that “one small step for man” stuff too, even though I’d written it. I’m selfless, me.
You have to be selfless to bring down the Berlin wall. I didn’t do that for me. I didn’t even live in Berlin. I don’t even like Germans, to be honest. The war and all that, y’know. But I did it anyway. “Mr.Kruschev,” I said, “tear down this wall.” But he didn’t, so I had to do it myself with by big captain’s hands. So I tore it down myself like a true leader would. I even ate the rubble because I’m just so manly.
Don’t believe me? Don’t believe I played in the Champions League final, went to the moon and tore down the Berlin wall? I’ve got photos, mate. That proves it.