Niemand van de in de glimmende pakjes gehulde fietsers had het over het WK | Netherlands News

Maarten Moll

Met nog een kwartier te spelen kwam Jongste Daughter de huiskamer in.

“Zit je nu al football te kijken?”


“It’s not dinner!”

“It is for my work,” he said.

“Is dat Argentina?” wroeg ze.

“Ja, Messi gaat losen.”

“Dat is zielig,” ze ze.

“Zielig? Zielig? Do you know how much Messi earns per second?” zei ik met any stemverhoffing.

“Why can’t he buy a goal even faster,” said Jongste’s daughter.

“En dat is dan niet zielig voor de adverstander?”

I saw clearly that he had no interest in another conversation.

“Ik heb net message gayaan, wil je een tosti?”

“Lekker,” I said, pointing my eyes at Messi.

“Mozzarella of Tonijn?”

“Maakt niet uit.”

It was a long football day. Four games back to back. A normal mens zou twee, maybe wel dry duels leten schieten. But I still continued to sit on television, even during two fairly bloody matches that ended 0-0, because I never knew of anything spectacular, even though I didn’t have a half eye on the TV. , the plants were watered in a stack of newspapers and periodicals, and they still had to read articles and articles made out of paper. (The comments and items not read on a stack are getting higher, so make a selection there again. Because the stack of paper is always active, some people in the household would also like to have those stacks of paper. )

During the viewing of Argentinië-Saoedi-Arabië (the remote control was placed on a place where Jongste Daughter did not grow) aten Jongste Daughter en ik een toasti met tomato en tonijn.

“Ik had voor jou best wel een doelpunt willen kopen,” zei ik, en ik bette met een servet mijn mondhoeken. “But fortunately, it was not necessary.”

Jongste Daughter has played a few years by GeuzenMiddenmeer.

Ze peep me aan. Craigen we dit story again. Pa in de zwijmelstand. Maar ze luisterde toch beleef naar haar wader, die vol vuor uit de doeken deed hoe he had staen juichen toen his daughter had made a goal in the uittwestrid against de Spartaan (the always important 4-0). To install Hair first. (And even they have one-na-latest.)

“Mooier and a goal from Messi?” wroeg ze.

“Natural!” Riep ik, met boter en suiker in haar val trapend.

Then I saw my hair poeslieve face.

“Ik ga naar boven, ik heb geen zin in voetbal,” he said even later, toen ze haar toasti op had. I didn’t have the enthusiasm to know about Denmark-Tunesia. Also if I had proposed to read a middeeuwse hoofse ridderroman in very old Nederlands.

In the first half of the last match of the day, France-Australia, I tried to shoot with some effort to spin. Beweging als tegenwicht voor dat luie football kijken.

Niemand van de in de glimmende pakjes gehulde fietsers had het over het WK, which was also weer verfrissend.

But then when I go straight, I don’t want to see what the stand between France and Australia is, just stick to a pair with the wing on the head.

I was roomy at the time home for the second half.

Maarten Moll writes about daily beslommeringen in the city. Read all their columns back in the archive.

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