Thierry Henry, the same who came to Chile under the auspices of UNICEF, it has been thought out statements about the beautiful game world has left me disappointed. With one hand
viewed from all angles, by the fourth official and all viewers, France, the petty fool France Domenech, left in the world, while an entire people, who never had colonies, which has always been under the dominion of others, has been out of sleep more important. The Irish have always been under the sign of Saturn, as Verlaine said, have always the shit, one way or another. The irlandades never be independent and in this case, they also have a commanding Platini global organization. The Vatican never helped the Catholic Church to finance the fight for independence. Neither did Philip II.
But this punishment is too much, especially in the hands of the player that everyone thought was a faithful representation of French elegance. Divine justice, again, it never gets to the equipment without much influence, for those who play quietly, with little media importance, as the Irish.
never seen a French play as frugal. And I've never seen bad players pa the ball but with more eggs than the Irish. The two parties fought with few technical arguments. They looked like high school kids playing in the streets of Belfast as British troops occupying the Ulster pursuit. Insurance remembered Joyce Yeats, Shane Macgowan, Dolores O 'Riordan, Elvis Costello, Sinead O'Connor, Van Morrison, the Clancy Brothers, the very hard and Roy Keane, Patsy O'Hara, Gerry Adams. They thought they played to forget the era of Maggie, when I put the finger in the ass every day, thought they were playing to claim six of Birmingham, thought they could, at a party, collect unpaid pensions of the Irish helped lift the U.S. after the crisis (all to the Railway Co. and the NYPD). The Irish played like schoolboys, as if they were risking their lives, are all functional to a game plan that has not changed in 150 years. Four ago four in the middle, half pa punra always bad ball, and a forward needle (except that mythical Ireland of the '90s with Cascarino and Aldridge up front, I put all the balls that came to them). A cheap copy of the legendary British football and Kick and Run technique. With no one to drive the ball, no one to turn down. If in that area are good the ball and you spend 10, you're a hero, but soon the fame you eat and leaves you drowning in alcohol. If you do not just ask Paul Merson or Paul Gascoigne (Gerrard for the exception, because it seems neighborhood player, but will play in the neighborhood, but not exquisite technique for mi-mmmm ... of course, to excecpión of his shots from a distance) . A strategy easy, now with the cloth on the bench, having passed despupés pure Markarián in banking (including Staunton himself went through the Irish banks, the Irish defense prototype). Anyway, the thing is that the Irish are bad, but give life on the court. It's like William Wallace, although this was a Scot. Is to live with assholes fuck you all day makes you create that character. But hey, things are left out because of a guy who always walked pontificating about the world, which has always condemned the use of any means to an end, were left out because of someone who I thought was one of the most honorable world football.
There is little to comment, only the sadness of an entire village in which I include myself. My ancestors came from Monaghan, a wasteland, with much swamp. They say that my grandfather came to Valparaiso and married a Peruvian. It came as a condemnation of the Irish army, for he had drunk one night and had been caught with another woman. He came to pay their ass in the world to blame, as they must assume responsibility, at the age of reason. I doubt that Henry can get back to sleep easily, but at least it took twenty minutes to ask pedon Richard Dunne after the game (and not as Diego, which took 20 years to apologize to Peter Shilton). It is difficult to tell this, but when the starting whistle sounds in South Africa, there will be an open wound, the cry of the crow that resonates in the mind of Oliver Cromwell until today, the cries of the dead in the hands of British troops, and the sob one Shay Given and Robbie Keane sharing the Twenty Guinness in a Dublin bar, while drunk on the front singing the traditional "Galway Bay".
At this point I do not care Titi medium wave and full charters. At this point I have no desire to taste a foie Provence. At this point I have wanted to drink a Guinness, while a bagpipe echoes in the distance, while Schillachi go see the arch only in demand in the quarter-finals Italia '90, aims and misses him the ball. It makes the goal kick, grabs Cascarino, puts in Chile, and reach the final against Germany, earning a criminal, as they did with Romania in the second round.
Ireland A tribute to you, then Chile will also play for you. Hopefully we play France in the group and we can avenge the defeat.
For a Celtic armband for the Chilean team. Pd-
photography by La Voz de Galicia.
http://www.lavozdegalicia.es/deportes/2009/11/19/00031258633488744730607.htm 
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