I Influence Sporting Events From My Lounge Room

Am I the only one?

Photo by Caju Gomes on Unsplash

I am a Sports Influencer!

Not via Twitter or other social media, not through a massive marketing campaign, not through corporate talking events. None of that.

I have lucky underpants, and if I’m not wearing them, my football team loses.

They don’t know about the underpants. They don’t need to. They train hard and play hard and get paid hundreds of thousands of dollars — they don’t need to be bothered with my clothes washing schedule.

That’s my job.

I single-handedly helped Ashleigh Barty, my favorite tennis player in the world, win the Miami Open in 2019.

I’m good! I’m very good.

With Ash I had to work hard — the time difference alone (I live in Australia) meant I was operating after midnight on occasion. But as an Influencer, that sort of sacrifice comes with the territory.

I could have gone to bed and woken up to find she’d lost the quarter-final against Kvitova. But no, I stayed up, glued to my phone, working my magic.

What is it I did?

Obviously, the repeated incantation of ‘Come on, Ash, you can do this!’.

Equally obvious, a red sock on my right foot and a blue sock on my left.

The real winner though?

A technique I invented a few years ago, with incredible results. Try this at home for your tennis player (works for male and female). When they are playing crucial, must-win points, turn off your phone.

All the way off. Feels a bit weird at first, right?

Then back on again. Check the scores.

Winners are grinners!

I don’t need Ashleigh’s thanks, I simply love helping her get to the top of her game, all because of my unseen influencing.

Of course, my powers need to be honed. Sometimes I can’t control the direction of the ‘influence’.

Only last night I was following a World Cup Cricket game in England. An Aussie batsman was about to make a record number of runs, hit a ‘century’, or one hundred runs in an innings.

I decided to help him out and watch him get his century. I turned on the television when he was on 92.

He got out next ball.

Sorry, pal! I owe you one.