Mer info her 😉
Mer info her 😉
Da jeg var liten, var jeg vant å spille fotball når som helst, hvor som helst, sammen med hvem som helst. Vanligvis var det på veier, med gamle og fancy baller og med unge og gamle folk. Paolo Rossi var min inspirasjon, da jeg spilte som spisser, jeg hadde lignende ferdigheter på en måte. Jeg hadde ikke hatt muligheten for å se ham på å spille fotball fordi jeg var kjempe liten men jeg hadde VHS-er og jeg så dem millioner ganger! Han er født i 1956, som mora mi, og i dag er det bursdagen hans. Takk så mye for å inspirere meg om hvordan å spille fotball og for å være min venn altså hvis vi har aldri møtt 😉
Imagine to go fighting a giant, to save the people in a dark valley, very far from town. And surprisingly imagine to make the giant running away, thanks to two Argentinian magics and a powerful flying spell! Wow!! Growl! 😉
None believed in this at the little village, but the tiny adventurer made it!
The giant is angry right now, and he is going to come back soon to take his revenge! But this is a wonderful story, you know, and I am curious about the tiny adventurer, and her unbelievable magic powers!
Vi ses snart for the part-2!
Sometimes photographs deceive. Take this one, for example. It represents John Carlos and Tommie Smith’s rebellious gesture the day they won medals for the 200 meters at the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City, and it certainly deceived me for a long time.
I always saw the photo as a powerful image of two barefoot black men, with their heads bowed, their black-gloved fists in the air while the US National Anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” played. It was a strong symbolic gesture – taking a stand for African American civil rights in a year of tragedies that included the death of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy.
It’s a historic photo of two men of color. For this reason I never really paid attention to the other man, white, like me, motionless on the second step of the medal podium. I considered him as a random presence, an extra in Carlos and Smith’s moment, or a kind of intruder. Actually, I even thought that that guy – who seemed to be just a simpering Englishman – represented, in his icy immobility, the will to resist the change that Smith and Carlos were invoking in their silent protest. But I was wrong.