Анастасья007
Although it is strange for a girl, but I - fierce Football Cheerleaders. Now hard to say why I had such a delight. Maybe because as a child my friends and loved drive into the yard, or on what Dad never missed a single football match, which was broadcast on television, and I enjoyed spending time near the them. Equally important was the fact that most of my friends were interested in this sport and often discussed events associated with it. Man, however, has no this information, simply dropped out of circle of communication. Whatever it was, I know most football clubs in the world and the most famous players. Going to a football match for me - a real treat. My friends always take tickets so that sit side by side. With we always sent mine, but sometimes even one's father: he also wants enjoy a "live" game, and in addition, cares for us so we did not get lost multitudes of spectators. At last - too much, we are very independent. But the seats are occupied, fans equipped by all necessary: snacks drinks, flags and tune. The game starts. From the minute voltage increases. The crowd support players shouting, whistling, chanting. Thousands of eyes intently watching ball stadium and hold your breath when it seems that he is about to fall into target. Well, finally, the long awaited goal! Stands literally explode on overwhelmed with emotion. This residents of homes located near stadium can accurately recognize the progress match even if they are not included TV. Between half we slightly rozmynayemosya and discuss the situation. A then - another 45 minutes of exciting spectacle. Unfortunately, more goals scored it was, but still our team won and the match did not end with dry account. Slightly hoarse but happy, we go to someone back home - celebrate and share experiences. I am sincerely glad that football, more specifically, capture the game, more brings us strengthen friendly relations.
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10fff01
Sometimes very queer is happening in that narrow thoroughfare to the west of the town . a grey-green tide flows sluggishly down its length. It is a tide of cloth caps.
These caps have just left the ground of the Bruddersford United Association Football Club. To say that these men paid their shilling to watch twenty-two hirelings kick a ball is merely to say that a violin is wood and catgut, that “Hamlet” is so much paper and ink.
For a shilling the Bruddersford United A.F.C. offered you Conflict and Art; it turned you into a critic, happy in your judgment of fine points, ready in a second to estimate the worth of a well-judged pass, a run down the touch line, a lightning shot, a clearance kick by back or goal-keeper; it turned you into a partisan, holding your breath when the ball came sailing into your own goalmouth, ecstatic when your forwards raced away towards the opposite goal, elated, downcast, bitter, triumphant by turns at the fortunes of your side, watching a ball shape Iliads and Odysseys for you; and what is more, it turned you into a member of a new community, all brothers together for an hour and a half, for not only had you escaped from the clanking machinery of this lesser life, from work, wages, rent, doles, sick pay, insurance cards, nagging wives, ailing children, bad bosses, idle workmen, but you had escaped with most of your mates and your neighbours, with half the town, and there you were, cheering together, thumping one another on the shoulders, swopping judgments like lords of the earth, having pushed your way through a turnstile into another and altogether more splendid kind of life, hurting with Conflict and yet passionate and beautiful in its Art. Moreover, it offered you more than a shilling’s worth of material for talk during the rest of the week.
Answers & Comments
fierce Football Cheerleaders. Now
hard to say why I had
such a delight. Maybe because
as a child my friends and loved
drive into the yard, or on what
Dad never missed a single football
match, which was broadcast on television,
and I enjoyed spending time near the
them. Equally important was the fact that
most of my friends were interested in this
sport and often discussed events
associated with it. Man, however, has no
this information, simply dropped out of
circle of communication.
Whatever it was, I know most
football clubs in the world and the most
famous players.
Going to a football match for me -
a real treat. My friends always
take tickets so that sit side by side. With
we always sent mine, but
sometimes even one's father: he also wants
enjoy a "live" game, and in addition,
cares for us so we did not get lost
multitudes of spectators.
At last - too much, we are very
independent.
But the seats are occupied, fans
equipped by all necessary: snacks
drinks, flags and tune.
The game starts. From the minute
voltage increases. The crowd support
players shouting, whistling, chanting.
Thousands of eyes intently watching
ball stadium and hold your breath when
it seems that he is about to fall into
target.
Well, finally, the long awaited goal!
Stands literally explode on
overwhelmed with emotion. This
residents of homes located
near stadium can
accurately recognize the progress match
even if they are not included
TV.
Between half we slightly
rozmynayemosya and discuss the situation. A
then - another 45 minutes of exciting
spectacle. Unfortunately, more goals scored
it was, but still our team
won and the match did not end with dry
account.
Slightly hoarse but happy, we
go to someone back home -
celebrate and share
experiences.
I am sincerely glad that football, more specifically,
capture the game, more
brings us strengthen friendly relations.
These caps have just left the ground of the Bruddersford United Association Football Club. To say that these men paid their shilling to watch twenty-two hirelings kick a ball is merely to say that a violin is wood and catgut, that “Hamlet” is so much paper and ink.
For a shilling the Bruddersford United A.F.C. offered you Conflict and Art; it turned you into a critic, happy in your judgment of fine points, ready in a second to estimate the worth of a well-judged pass, a run down the touch line, a lightning shot, a clearance kick by back or goal-keeper; it turned you into a partisan, holding your breath when the ball came sailing into your own goalmouth, ecstatic when your forwards raced away towards the opposite goal, elated, downcast, bitter, triumphant by turns at the fortunes of your side, watching a ball shape Iliads and Odysseys for you; and what is more, it turned you into a member of a new community, all brothers together for an hour and a half, for not only had you escaped from the clanking machinery of this lesser life, from work, wages, rent, doles, sick pay, insurance cards, nagging wives, ailing children, bad bosses, idle workmen, but you had escaped with most of your mates and your neighbours, with half the town, and there you were, cheering together, thumping one another on the shoulders, swopping judgments like lords of the earth, having pushed your way through a turnstile into another and altogether more splendid kind of life, hurting with Conflict and yet passionate and beautiful in its Art. Moreover, it offered you more than a shilling’s worth of material for talk during the rest of the week.