The number 13 shirt

A lot of clubs don't have a number 13.

I know. Stupid isn't it? These days when football's so far removed from what it once was. When every inch of players is money-balled and deep-statted. When you know, to .05%, the accuracy of rolls out, and distance gained from clearing kicks. The clearance distance of punches, percentage of crosses claimed. These days: when our club has an official bedding partner, an official mortgage partner, when our mascot has to take unconscious bias training.

But even now, in this new, gleaming entertainment product, where every possibility or probability is analysed, stress-tested and war-gamed, quite a few clubs don't have a number 13 on the squad sheet. And when they do, he's the player least likely to get a game, the reserve goalkeeper.

Hiya.

I get quite a lot of time to think, in my line of work. It's a fairly low-profile way to exist in a high-profile environment. I still have Twitter followers in the five figures, and unless  you're the sort of die-hard who'll travel away to a League Cup match at Accrington in November, you're not likely to see me actually play. Of course, fans being fans, I'll always be at the centre of some sort of intrigue from a group convinced that I should usurp the number 1 shirt (even I don't think I should, to be fair, Javier's the best I've ever played with. Nice bloke too), but it's fairly low level, and provided I never do anything actively stupid, the press tend to leave me alone, which is just as well, considering.

I train. I play in cup matches. I very occasionally do a bit of social media content (not much, letting an ill kid score past me, that sort of thing, they're always a bit disappointed that I'm not Javier. I don't mind) and I sit on the bench and watch. Because while I'm the most unused player in the squad, I'm also one of the most essential (not that the pay reflects this, compared to most).

This is the essential paradox at the heart of the number 13 shirt. A state upon which I often meditate. Because, unused and unregarded as I am, is there any greater drama than a goal-keeping substitution? Okay, probably. But it's an unusual event. How many times have you seen a keeper subbed? It's only ever because of injury, and it's only happened to me three times in the last eight seasons. It's got novelty value, which is not something to be sneezed at, when you're a bit-part player in an entertainment product.

It is always a bitter-sweet moment. A rare run-out in the spotlight, but always at the expense of a man I regard as a friend. The last time was the season before last, a clash of heads with a brick shithouse of  a 9. It was that mid-season period when the games come thick and fast, so I actually had a few in a row. Didn't embarrass myself, apart from that mix-up against Stoke, and then back to the bench as soon as Javier got better.

I didn't complain. I never complain. This is the nature of the number 13 shirt. It involves a degree of sublimation of the self.

The Telegraph said I showed composure. The Sun called me a super sub. I got linked with a move to Brescia.

I don't complain because one day, sooner or later, it'll happen again. The moment of highest drama, the once every three seasons rarity. The moment when the sub keeper comes on, and gets on with business, because that's what number 13s do, and maybe I'll have to go up for a corner when we're chasing a winner to clinch Europa qualification, maybe I'll have to save a penalty to keep us in the division.

Having to do it all the time? To be honest, I'd prefer not to. This way, I get well paid, I get a great seat for every game, and no-one's screaming for me to be dropped. And there's less scrutiny in general. I'd even get away with having an affair, if I were that way inclined.