It's amazing that in the 17 hours that I'm awake I don't find enough time to write about football. I think about it. So here I am, almost tomorrow, and I haven't recorded the day.
The international week started today with some matches that will have attracted little attention, unless you in Andorra are a celebrating a rare away victory (vs Liechtenstein) or if you in Qatar and are enjoying the news about a morale boosting win, before 2022, in Iraq.
Tomorrow there are some more classics lined up. I bet there will be thousands lining up to watch World Cup qualifying flops Algeria take on Tanzania. In the Faroe Islands, the locals might be watching TV instead of trudging out to see the Latvians in town. And in Malta, I know most of the locals will be staying home to watch TV, even if the TV isn't working, rather than venturing out for another attempt at winning a football match. Luxembourg are the lucky victims this time. There's is always hope and despite my sarcastic pessimism I always want to believe that a new dawn is upon Maltese football, again.
The big matches are on Friday: Russia-Brazil, Holland-England, Argentina-Italy, Germany-Spain to name a few. But no matter how much hype surrounds these clashes of the world's football superpowers nothing compares to the real action in June. The only winners and losers are the fringe players who either played the match of their life to stake a huge claim for a spot in the World Cup squad, or the other fringe players who messed up their one opportunity to be considered for Russia.
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