Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The story of the 1990 World Cup

I can see it all now as clearly as if it was yesterday. Gazza's tears, Schillachi's bulging eyes, Milla's hips and Rijkaard's phlegm are destined to hold a special place in my heart forever, all played out to the incomparable soundtrack of Nessun Dorma.

After all, the 1990 World Cup in Italy is my World Cup. Every kid gets one, and Italia '90 will always belong to me.

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