Today's Football 2015 / 16

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georgia on their minds
 
yeah but in French so "shrugs in french"
Love and peace it 'aint

The Song of Marseille
Arise, children of the Fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us tyranny
Raises its bloody banner
Do you hear, in the countryside,
The roar of those ferocious soldiers?
They're coming right into your arms
To cut the throats of your sons and women!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

What does this horde of slaves,
Of traitors and conjured kings want?
For whom are these vile chains,
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage!
What fury must it arouse!
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

What! Foreign cohorts
Would make the law in our homes!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would strike down our proud warriors!
Great God! By chained hands
Our brows would yield under the yoke
Vile despots would have themselves
The masters of our destinies!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Tremble, tyrants and you traitors
The shame of all parties,
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will finally receive their reward!
Everyone is a soldier to fight you
If they fall, our young heroes,
The earth will produce new ones,
Ready to fight against you!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors,
Bear or hold back your blows!
You spare those sorry victims,
Who arm against us with regret.
But not these bloodthirsty despots,
These accomplices of Bouillé,
All these tigers who, mercilessly,
Rip their mother's breast!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Sacred love of the Fatherland,
Lead, support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished Liberty,
Fight with your defenders!
Under our flags, shall victory
Hurry to thy manly accents,
That your expiring enemies,
See your triumph and our glory!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

We shall enter the (military) career
When our elders are no longer there,
There we shall find their dust
And the trace of their virtues
Much less keen to survive them
Than to share their coffins,
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or following them

Children, let Honour and Fatherland
be the object of all our wishes!
Let us always have souls nourished
With fires that might inspire both
Let us be united! Anything is possible;
Our vile enemies will fall,
Then the French will cease
To sing this fierce refrain:

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows !
 
Love and peace it 'aint

The Song of Marseille
Arise, children of the Fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us tyranny
Raises its bloody banner
Do you hear, in the countryside,
The roar of those ferocious soldiers?
They're coming right into your arms
To cut the throats of your sons and women!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

What does this horde of slaves,
Of traitors and conjured kings want?
For whom are these vile chains,
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage!
What fury must it arouse!
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

What! Foreign cohorts
Would make the law in our homes!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would strike down our proud warriors!
Great God! By chained hands
Our brows would yield under the yoke
Vile despots would have themselves
The masters of our destinies!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Tremble, tyrants and you traitors
The shame of all parties,
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will finally receive their reward!
Everyone is a soldier to fight you
If they fall, our young heroes,
The earth will produce new ones,
Ready to fight against you!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors,
Bear or hold back your blows!
You spare those sorry victims,
Who arm against us with regret.
But not these bloodthirsty despots,
These accomplices of Bouillé,
All these tigers who, mercilessly,
Rip their mother's breast!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Sacred love of the Fatherland,
Lead, support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished Liberty,
Fight with your defenders!
Under our flags, shall victory
Hurry to thy manly accents,
That your expiring enemies,
See your triumph and our glory!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

We shall enter the (military) career
When our elders are no longer there,
There we shall find their dust
And the trace of their virtues
Much less keen to survive them
Than to share their coffins,
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or following them

Children, let Honour and Fatherland
be the object of all our wishes!
Let us always have souls nourished
With fires that might inspire both
Let us be united! Anything is possible;
Our vile enemies will fall,
Then the French will cease
To sing this fierce refrain:

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows !

And we wonder why the Scots want Independence when the National Anthem imposed on them contains lines about 'Rebellious Scots to crush'
 
Competitive Fly Fishing popular in that area is it?
Sky "sports" will be all over that
Love and peace it 'aint

The Song of Marseille
Arise, children of the Fatherland,
The day of glory has arrived!
Against us tyranny
Raises its bloody banner
Do you hear, in the countryside,
The roar of those ferocious soldiers?
They're coming right into your arms
To cut the throats of your sons and women!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

What does this horde of slaves,
Of traitors and conjured kings want?
For whom are these vile chains,
These long-prepared irons?
Frenchmen, for us, ah! What outrage!
What fury must it arouse!
It is us they dare plan
To return to the old slavery!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

What! Foreign cohorts
Would make the law in our homes!
What! These mercenary phalanxes
Would strike down our proud warriors!
Great God! By chained hands
Our brows would yield under the yoke
Vile despots would have themselves
The masters of our destinies!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Tremble, tyrants and you traitors
The shame of all parties,
Tremble! Your parricidal schemes
Will finally receive their reward!
Everyone is a soldier to fight you
If they fall, our young heroes,
The earth will produce new ones,
Ready to fight against you!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Frenchmen, as magnanimous warriors,
Bear or hold back your blows!
You spare those sorry victims,
Who arm against us with regret.
But not these bloodthirsty despots,
These accomplices of Bouillé,
All these tigers who, mercilessly,
Rip their mother's breast!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

Sacred love of the Fatherland,
Lead, support our avenging arms
Liberty, cherished Liberty,
Fight with your defenders!
Under our flags, shall victory
Hurry to thy manly accents,
That your expiring enemies,
See your triumph and our glory!

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows!

We shall enter the (military) career
When our elders are no longer there,
There we shall find their dust
And the trace of their virtues
Much less keen to survive them
Than to share their coffins,
We shall have the sublime pride
Of avenging or following them

Children, let Honour and Fatherland
be the object of all our wishes!
Let us always have souls nourished
With fires that might inspire both
Let us be united! Anything is possible;
Our vile enemies will fall,
Then the French will cease
To sing this fierce refrain:

To arms, citizens,
Form your battalions,
Let's march, let's march!
Let the impure blood
Water our furrows !

love "your parricidal schemes" and "share their coffins" . Covers most eventualities I think!
 
http://www.bbc.com/sport/0/football/34839734
Belgium's friendly with Spain on Tuesday in Brussels has been called off amidst security fears following the deadly attacks in Paris. A total of 129 people were killed in the attacks on Friday, which included the targeting of France's friendly with Germany at the Stade de France.

French prosecutors have identified a Belgian as the attacks' mastermind. Belgium's government raised the terror threat level to three on Monday, indicating a serious threat.
Great news. Lukaku going down injured would have been a disaster. At least if he does pick up an injury it'll be playing for Everton and not in some ridiculous international game.
 
Great news. Lukaku going down injured would have been a disaster. At least if he does pick up an injury it'll be playing for Everton and not in some ridiculous international game.

Not sure him getting injured against Villa and not Germany is any sort of consolation mate unless he's just smacked them for 6 before pulling a hammy
 
Not sure him getting injured against Villa and not Germany is any sort of consolation mate unless he's just smacked them for 6 before pulling a hammy
It wouldn't be as frustrating as seeing it happen in an international.

Internationals are the bane of football. If they have to have them at all they should all be played post season. Qualifiers, tournaments...just cram them into 4 or 5 weeks, let the players decide whether they want their summers taken up by that and then shut the window down again with lots of time for recovery before the season starts. Give UEFA/FIFA all of June to get their business done and then leave 6 weeks for the players to recuperate.
 
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