Afrin Burns My Throat

2010 World Cup: Netherlands - Spain

{I'm late for this great update, I know. The fact is that I had a little 'to do this week but the post I had already begun shortly after the end of the game and it would not take much to finish it - I had already written the most - if he had not submitted my proverbial laziness combined with my not very profitable cazzeggiano on Facebook. In short, the usual loss of time in which international champion. Ah, there are probably errors in grammar, but writing to the laptop is a Chinese torture, as well as impossible for two pecking keys right below. Enjoy!}

! WARNING!: This post may contain (not necessarily in that order): words in Tuscany; unnecessary references to some scholars a literary work; comparisons of people with other people, total desecration of football and glorification of rugby rintronante foul language, blood, hands gesticulating gay; diagrams with arrows, some ultra hot English and many other topics. Ah, I forgot, it also contains the comments of the Countess myself on the game Holland-Spain.

The practical scheme of darts colored is my wonderful art work that sums up the World this year (if not seen, Altervista's fault, not mine * grin * spastic), while below We have some of my remarks about the final.
- From childhood to adulthood : I admit that it is not a great expert on soccer, in fact, we can say that I do not give a damn. I hated the sport and soporific, but is the only sport in which, during the World Cup, I can make patterns with darts. I love patterns with darts! As a child I used the events to nonmiricordocosa with my toys just to make diagrams with arrows leading to the winner. For the rest are much more passionate about rugby and basketball, if we want to talk about sports teams. My previous football can be summed up in two historic events:
1) the 2002 World Cup, a match in the case of Italy. I watched the whole game without a break off a moment with my dad. I found it deliciously funny take the piss out of the Italian players, especially millemila Vieri, who tried repeatedly to make a headed goal. I belly flop over with laughter. Italy was later thrown out in the quarter-finals. (I could be wrong that they were the World Cup, I inferred that from a few facts: there were Vieri and Trapattoni, Wiki and confirmed their presence at this World, was the national team and I think the World Cup are the only sporting event that concern, it was surely because it was hot summer and watched the game light off at night - my father always turn off the lights when watching TV in the summer -);
2) 2006 World Cup final. Did not look hard, but certainly the second time down. Maybe even the butchers Zidane head, can not remember exactly. The battered followed only because even a friend of mine was watching her on MSN and would not enter until it ended. I was intent on smearing badly toasted bread with Nutella (actually more spalmai Nutella on the tablecloth and my hands, but these are details), to soak in even worse in a big glass of cold milk (milk squirted copious everywhere every time my hand was falling down, methodical and cold like a guillotine ...) and conclude the troiaio with a big bite from a rabid dog. I think it is a legitimate question if you're wondering if I know eat, since I'm asking myself. When the two teams came to the rigors I was right in the middle of all the mess described above. I was taken with my work cut to feed me and it was impossible to follow simultaneously the telly. I knew that Italy was marked by screams coming from the circulation in my house, which woke up my father who came to see the bad habit of half asleep state, style, curious bear who wakes up from hibernation. The famous "goal Big "I saw him too and also the delivery of the Cup. Then I switched off, put it back all right and went to the peak, a little regret 'that Italy had won, but basically had a decent shape for once. If you're thinking I'm a bit 'like Sapia of Dante, is another legitimate question and I wonder too.
This year I watched the whole second half of Italy - New Zealand, laughing from time to time to figure shit that the Azzurri were incurring, and the semi-finals of the smear, as I was busy doing other things and only follow the score. The final I making up to five minutes at halftime, but then I followed it all. Really. I did all this panegyric to justify my first sentence: In my opinion, both Spain and the Netherlands, have played poorly. I was firmly convinced that throughout the game they did on purpose to get to penalties and create more suspense. My guess is this then fall when Spain scored (at 117 ', almost to the end game ...) but I can not explain how that had to be so clumsy, especially in the area where they were to commit to goals more, and wrong so many networks. In short, they were not or were the two finalists? I think that was the goal that had managed to do in other games were pure ass and nothing else. And the English goals were made to a whore free area, no clashes with the defenders: if they were wrong, too easy a shot like that, I had doubts about them call themselves "players". I consider it a lucky win, rather than glorious, but oh well, I'm happy because I kept Spain, I was expecting only more so. Or maybe it's just the way football is done and all parties to proceed slow and I'm now addicted to the action of pressing the rugby to find those passages involving interminable ending or when the ball only happens in "foot" enemy, or when he goes out, rarely with a goal. If there is a glimmer of action, with a mark or anything else, surely will end in failure or, worse, in a penalty. "Dagobert I kicked his shins / pulled my shirt / tripped / said I look like a dugong" are the reasons that the arbitrators should hear more often, before showing the fateful yellow card. All this was repeated at regular intervals of about two minutes even in the final, leading infinite boredom. But I resisted, hell, I survived! I saw the match, I saw the goal, I saw the first win of the World Spain. Historic event! So, if anything rivincesse no more, I can say that I, that one time in July 2010, was there. A little 'scoglionata, but I was there. * Starts to gloat satisfied with their heroic resistance .*
- BEST MOMENTS (in a nutshell: 99% of the game in an abstract light and the parts that laughed more): drops from the actors when they were touched and eaten enough, because they are delicate little flowers, which we want to ...; protests to the referee by the man who was accused of having someone Bua, backed by the entire team; the successful combination generated by the full expression of idiots coach disappointed with those of the players after a goal failure (thyself to play better, Alfonso!) and those to be angry with their general grounds, the replay in slow motion falls where, Sometimes, you could see - or at least to me seemed to see - well that was not the slightest touch, but threw down the same (figure shit!). The icing on the cake towards the end, I think the first goal, Torres is thrown to the ground rolling around in the grass in pain and holding his knee together and nobody is the row. I admit that watching it made me giggle. However, when the whole herd is back in the area where he was, was already back on his feet: devious technique for doing two unnecessary trips to the field? Who knows ...
- Ave Maria THE TRIO: The referee seemed Hitman British and I do not know where to find the courage to protest the players to go with the look with a murderess. I think it was filospagnolo, but the sports page on The Nation refers to it as "impartial". Maybe ..., the Dutch coach, who had also spotted in the semi-final, also in this fashion was simply around in his black scarf, the slightly tanned skin, hair fired at 360 ° from true in young and, above all, that blessed hand gesticulating that I adored. I mean, he had a way to move it so gay, I remembered one of my classmate who also spoke cheerfully with him while his hand. Ricopiai I also put all of his diary, but that's another story., The English coach gave me the impression of not knowing why he were there, but when they won was very happy to be in the right place at the right time. While his nemesis gesticulating gave orders to his men, the mild-mannered coach Iberian preferred the tactic of setting the game without blinking and without a word in edgewise. Perhaps he was not really anything to say or maybe not knew what to say. Suspected alien replacement with a clone during the night pre-game.
- THOSE WHO LOVED TOO : Iniesta was always on the ground to claim some phantom foul and there was always nearby Robben, guilty of doing Boccare continuously. I would say they had an attraction Magnetic very strong. When Spain scored, my first thought was: "The octopus c'aveva Paul got really, toh," I smiled and unconsciously, then I realized who he was scoring and I like the waterfall face and clear: "No way!" exploded in my head: luiii , Iniesta, with her porcelain-doll face and character of a damsel in distress, in the end had given an alarm and pulled out the grit, to make the passing attack -whore goals described in the first. Despite this heroic act, could not resist for long the lure of his true nature and to the 120 'is back to whine for the millionth morsels fall. The official Hitman, visibly battered, has seen fit to end the game and telare away nonchalantly in the night, too ready to succumb to its true nature as murderess. Of course, before going to do his real job, moved to take even a medal for his stoic patience with babies, and its benign "impartiality" (eeeh ...).
- THOSE BONI : The Dutch team was a bald, while Spain of vacuums: I remember that during one of the famous slow motion replay, I saw Puyol's hair as he fell to the wheel. Scary! Despite what someone was saved: a Van Persie of Holland, seen only once in passing when I turned on the tivvì and then disappeared for the rest of the game. Not for nothing The nation has labeled as "non-existent" and practically useless for the team. Poor, I'm sorry for him., From the English, I was dazzled by Navas and his beautiful blue eyes. Seriously, I did not think that there was a color so clear. As soon as I saw, I thought: "These are definitely the frank blue eyes of Dorian Gray" (Compare the famous people or with other municipalities from books, films or other is a favorite pastime of my two neurons, sapevatelo!) However I ; sorry that the goal has not made him xD Damn!
Pulling a final budget, I would say that Spain was better off: she had David Villa who is nice, although it has a strange face, devilish. It reminded me of the satanic Seth Donnie Darko (see what I mean by "Making comparisons between people?" He's stronger than me!) And Casillas also not had to throw away. In the end, when he began to cry, was something tenerosHo that made me smile: °) Baby!
- NICKNAME: Spain: La Roja, Holland: Tulips, Japan: Samurai, Italy: The Azzurri ... My two above mentioned neurons have thought that Germany should call the Vikings and the French cheeses. Not content to have come up with the following scene: the Blue Samurai eating cheese with napkins decorated with tulips, when the Vikings scrub them to him as La Roja. Then I discovered the wise
Wiki that France is known as Les Blues and Germany Der Nationalelf . We conclude that no one has my boundless imagination in giving nicknames, tzk.
- existential question: In truth, the doors behind me when I saw in June from the two episodes of Shosholoza SKYUno up with Marco Cattaneo (or Neothecat Marco, his alter ego, Mickey Mouse comic strip that appeared in ): How much water will wasted to keep the grass in that beautiful emerald green color? And how much money thrown away to build stadiums? Program in the South African respondents felt happy to host the World Cup, it was a great opportunity to work for all and gain for the nation. I was not, and still are, so convinced: after construction of stadiums, all the workers hired were rightly dismissed, what else could do, after all? I also thought that intend to make up for the costs incurred with the money brought by tourists away. Too bad that a South African, while he showed the prison was built in a stadium - can not remember which - to Marco Cattaneo, were not so optimistic in his view, among the many tourists who come for the World Cup would be calculated, most were thieves , fraudsters, people involved in sex tourism or prostitution, others in search of drugs. For my part I asked puzzled, "But how will those who come to watch the World Cup, then?". At the end
World Cup I also wondered why the heck Casillas must be withdrawn, if you married?! . _. "They make so much effort the players - and sports in general - to become good, since after all it is their job, but when they reach full maturity and begin their heyday, they withdraw for reasons fucksters . They are his business, but I still hope that you change your mind. Bah ...
- defaillance FOR SHORT Ennui (or "superstitious ritual"): The game I saw all the second time onwards, as noted above, however, a slight When pallet there was, yes. To 110 'around I have not started to drop before: I started biting my nails in falsetto (that is, pretending to bite) and then I scratched my leg and I accidentally removed the crust of an old mosquito bite: blood pressed with copious index, bleeding avoided, I went to the bathroom to remove the blood from his hands and I took the opportunity to look bad in the mirror and then I stuck to bottled water, disgusted to discover that it was hot, so I riappollaiata goals and was on the table.