As you can see by this rather stacked six pack, Ezequiel Garay was happy. He and his Benfica buddies crushed the hearts of Celtic and the dreams of Rod Stewart by a score of 2-1. We were equally chuffed that the magic lamp we invested in finally granted our ‘more thighs please!’ wishes.
Regrettably, Drew, we did notice the ‘do. What kind of uglyitis fashion abomination was that?
We also picked up on Francesco Acerbi’s ‘I’m sad in a butterfly sit’ sulking, Vito Mannone going down on Ibrahim Afellay – literally – and the fact that we carelessly misplaced our binders full of ‘ballers during halftime (thanks for the idea, Mittens), which were still ruing several caffeinated hours later.
How did woeful loss Wednesday treat our lovely readers? Were you disturbed by your late night snack choices (we stress ate our nails to basically nothing). And didn’t last night feel like you were watching a Three Stoges rerun or something? Trios of players, impossibly tangled up the way a yarn ball is, pissy as hell, as if they’re about to bring down the runner purely by slapstick comedy?
This post is similar to the requisite fall family photo with a pumpkin: we don’t really want to do it, but we know we have to.
About last night: Eden Hazard wore black boxers; conditions were horrendous for six pack spotting; and a lot of teams that weren’t expected to lose did.
In other words, Tuesday’s Champs League was a series of obscurely irrelevant events we think we might have nixed in favour of jammies and a face mask.
ADP & Emile Heskey facing off over a shiny hubcap.
There may be a better way to promote interest in Australia’s A-League, but we can’t think of it.
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