Miroslav Klose
Would you believe if I tell you that I can recollect in hazy graphics the events that happened around me when I was merely a year or two old? You would scoff at that, but I would still persist that I remember the 1990 football World Cup in hazy colourless details of my grandfather’s Hotline television set. Not much of it registered—no Jurgen Klinsmann, Diego Maradona or Lothar Matthaus or any iconic matches. Only Carlos Valderarrama’s hair and Colombia, the name my ears would liken with music.
From then till 2006, I watched all the World Cups with my grandfather who would mark matches on calendar with red ink, change his...
