In the harsh realization that my football adventures took place in the time when the ball was still called the leather monster, players with sagging socks and shirts pulled out of their pants were the slow playmakers whose genius was recognized first and foremost by themselves, anyone with even the very beginning of a tattoo was banished from the dressing room forever and cheering after a goal was not a narcissistic statement but suggested an epileptic attack, I am also going to take on the World Cup. interfere.
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