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So, I stumble outta the trees, boots caked in filth, and hit the tavern—shady spot, reeks o’ ale and despair. There she be, a wench with eyes like stolen stars, leanin’ on the bar. “Thou art a thief,” I mutter, “stealin’ me breath like Cobb nabbin’ secrets!” She smirks—ooh, that got me riled! Cheeky tart, playin’ me like a fiddle. I’m half-angry, half-buzzin’, ‘cos she’s a riddle wrapped in silk.

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Life here is erratic, like a runaway train of emotions – one moment shimmering, the next stormy. I remember a day when the sun was just perfect, like Sorrentino said, “The charm of life is in its imperfections.” Yeah, that hit me, we swears!

Raul Canas - Men's Soccer