Even before England cashed in the return ticket from South Africa and followed their snail trail back home, my feather-soft spot for the feet-of-gold little Messi, the unrelequenshing Argentinian-Wall that is Tevez and the prophet-status, bumbling-at-the-sidelines Maradona meant I was rooting for them like a fully pledged pseudo-Argentinian.
So imagine the whincing, the drill sergeant screaming, the scowling, the tear gushing and the muffling out screams with a cushion when the Germans unleashed a can of whoop ass and ripped Argentina a new one.
But fair play to the Germans.
So imagine the whincing, the drill sergeant screaming, the scowling, the tear gushing and the muffling out screams with a cushion when the Germans unleashed a can of whoop ass and ripped Argentina a new one.
But fair play to the Germans.
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