This is Iker Casillas, goalie and captain of the national Spanish team.
Casillas is my favorite Spanish player (other than Puyol, because we are bonded by the ties of most excellent hair). Not because he is adorable and a half (see above), nor because he so beautifully embodies courage as grace under pressure, but because, after the World Cup final, when his journalist girlfriend was like, “Who do you want to thank?” in an interview, he was like, “Oh, my family and fans and team…and you!” and kissed her and peaced, and she was like, “Madre mia!,” and I was like, “Si!”
Anyway. I was talking to someone today who said that he was tired of everyone being on Spain’s d*** (unnecessarily crude, I know), and I, too, am sort of over the whole pass-pass-technically perfect-pass-pass Spain game. I am not rooting for Spain to win. But you know which Spaniard we should all be rooting for? Iker Casillas.
And Puyol (get well soon, boo).
So concludes our latest (not next! I realized that doesn’t make any sense!) (and possibly last) installment of Oh, Balls! A Downhill Tumbl.