Landon Knack won the MLB Seoul Series

lol’d heartily: while in Seoul, Korea, Los Angeles Dodgers caught on camera marveling and drooling over Korean actress Jeon Jong-Seo throwing out the ceremonial first pitch during an exhibition game between the Dodgers and the KBO’s Kiwoom Heroes

Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get as much enjoyment out of the MLB Seoul Series as I did.  I’m so far removed from my general fandom of baseball these days, and I’m so cynical and jaded, that I figured this was all just some typical cash grab by MLB to try and dupe and hoover money out of the Korean market, and that it’s always kind of weird, rhythm-wise when MLB teams play regular season games in Asia during Spring Training, and then come back to wrap up Spring Training before re-embarking on the regular season for 160 more games.

But then seeing highlights of Freddie Freeman acquainting himself to the Korean fans with a blast of a home run, and seeing the Padres’ Kim Ha-Seong coming home and blasting two dingers of his own against the LG Twins were pleasant highlights.  And then there was the gleefully enjoyable wake-up call on the final day of the trip, waking up and checking the score to the Padres/Dodgers game to find out that the Dodgers’ $325M acquisition Yoshinobu Yamamoto, got absolutely blown up, lasted one inning, and took a monumental L to start his MLB career.

I mean seriously, there isn’t a better narrative than a Japanese pitcher getting absolutely shelled while pitching in Korea.  I’m sure he will settle down and have a very fine season and possibly career in America, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t smile like the Grinch upon seeing his woefully embarrassing line for the morning, and knowing he’ll be leaving the motherland with little else than a big-ass L.

However, the best story of the trip, was undoubtedly the hilarious spectacle of the entire Dodgers roster going gonzo once they laid their eyes on Korean actress Jeon Jong-Seo, taking the hill for the ceremonial first pitch. I mean, I can’t blame all these baseball bros, for most of them, they’ve probably never seen a proper Korean celebrity like Jeon, with her perfect face,* slim figure, legs that go to the moon, and for a Korean girl, she got a little bit of booty.*  

*most likely surgically enhanced

And then she proceeds to hit the target pretty impressively, considering she was kicking off on the wrong side of the rubber.  But it didn’t stop pretty much everyone in the Dodgers’ dugout, most visibly Ryan Brazier, Gavin Stone, Gavin Lux from letting their jaws hang to the ground.  And hilariously extra were Tyler Glasnow, Chris Taylor and surprisingly, the happily married Freddie Freeman from staring a little too hard at Jeon.

But to me, the best part about the whole thing is that if there was going to be a singular winner of the entire Seoul Series, it’s definitely #96 for the Dodgers, Landon Knack, who was the guy who caught the first pitch from Jeon, but also got to take his photograph with her afterward.  Without question, Knack is envy of the entire Dodgers locker room, getting to be the guy that got to get up close with the Korean bombshell, and even put a hand on her, during the photograph.

The thing with ceremonial first pitches is that with 162 games plus exhibitions and playoffs for some, there are a whole lot of ceremonial first pitches in a season.  Every now and then, it’s going to be a legitimate A-lister or powerful figure, but for the most part, it’s going to be like the local Wells Fargo regional office’s VP’s son type of guys throwing out the lion’s share of ceremonial first pitches throughout a year.

The rule of thumb typically is that the bigger the celebrity or figure it is throwing out the first pitch, the higher caliber of player will be behind home plate waiting to catch the ball.  When George W. Bush threw out the first pitch, Ivan Rodriguez caught him.  When Pedro Martinez returned to Boston after being inducted into the Hall of Fame, David Ortiz caught him.  The list goes on and on, where depending on the level of celebrity, the higher the caliber of player is waiting to catch it.

And it’s clear that the Dodgers weren’t made aware of who was throwing out the ceremonial first pitch in their exhibition with the Kiwoom Heroes, because they sent a guy with the number 96 out to go catch.  Because the rule of thumb is that the higher and wonkier the number is in Spring Training, they’re younger minor league guys who are actively in a tryout phase with the team.  I actually had to Google the Dodgers’ 40-man roster to even find out who #96 was, and I still have no idea who Landon Knack really is.  His minor league numbers look promising, and I’m sure he’ll have a new number at some point this year, but the truth is that he was the low-man on the totem pole, thrust out there to do grunt work.

Clearly the mainstays of the Dodgers couldn’t be bothered to go out and catch a ceremonial first pitch, so they sent Landon Knack to go do it, and gee golly I’m sure Knack couldn’t have been happier to do the duty when he saw Jeon Jong-Seo step onto the field and take the mound.  Without question, if any of the players knew who was throwing it, and what Jeon Jong-Seo looked like, we probably would’ve seen Tyler Glasnow or Chris Taylor fighting over who would get to catch.

Unsurprising, as soon as the Seoul Series was over, Knack was immediately cut and sent down to the minor leagues to start the year, because anyone wearing a number higher than 70 typically is, unless they’re one of the baseball edge lords that asks for a high number.  Regardless of if he gets called up or not, gets hurt or not, Landon Knack is definitely going to have a core memory from his brief trip to Korea.  And his teammates will always be green with envy when he inevitably makes his picture with Jeon Jong-Seo his phone’s lock screen, and gets to flash it around when he’s called back up to the majors.

Without question, Landon Knack definitely won the Seoul Series, and MLB players probably will remember this the next time they’re sent out to Korea for any exhibitions.

Dear world: it’s not you, it’s me

After all, I am Korean.  And no culture has higher expectations from other people as Koreans do, and I ponder the day if and when anyone can prove to me that anyone can work harder than a Korean can, because as far as my personal experiences are concerned, I’m hard pressed to ever have bared witness to such.

Mythical wife and I got into a little tiff coming back from the airport, because she was tired of everything coming out of my mouth being a complaint, and I was tired of being criticized for speaking negatively in a scenario where everything was going annoyingly when I feel that everything else I do is usually for the sake of others because I’m always trying to please everyone.  Atlanta Hartsfield Latoya-Jackson Ching Chong Chang really is capable of bringing the worst out of everyone at the drop of a hat, even those who are on their way out of it.

We landed right at midnight, and having sat at the very back of the aircraft, we’re the last to deplane, which is never a pleasant experience sitting in a giant metal tube with stagnant air for an extra 20 minutes than most other people.  Naturally, we’re at the very end of the terminal, so it’s a quarter mile to get to the escalators only to find out that the Pain Train shuttle is on reduced service and only one side of the tracks are operating, so we start walking, only for there to be assholes who clog up the moving walkway with wheelchairs they’re using as push carts or people just too fucking stupid and/or oblivious and not moving out the way for those actually walking.

We get on the next pain train, and of course, it stops because the tracks are clogged, right before we need to get off, adding even more time to our arrival, to which I am being cognizant about because as it’s past midnight, a new day is ticking, and I don’t want to get charged even more for parking than I have to at this point, so getting out as soon as possible is the objective.

Arriving at the main terminal, it turns out that basically the entire north wing is cordoned off, so we have to do a really cumbersome detour around south and then back to north, and of course the parking payment machines are all gone, presumably so that people can no longer pre-pay for their parking and increase the chances of time lapsing further while you get to your car, and drive through the maze-like exits of the on-site parking.

By the time we’re off the premises, mythical wife and I are already not speaking, because she’s tired of my complaining, and I’m over not being allowed to be upset at the fact that Atlanta Hartsfield Latoya-Jackson is run by brain dead invalids who love to parrot that they’re the busiest airport in the world, leaving out the fact that such business is wholly a result of the fact that they’re run by a bunch of brain dead invalids.

I don’t apologize for having higher expectations of the world around me, and I understand that the only one set up for failure for having such a mindset is myself, because the rest of the non-Korean world is way more accepting of substandard performance out of fucking everyone than I am.  And like a self-fulfilling prophecy, I am failing, because I fall victim to getting annoyed by fucking everything, because nobody in the world is capable of performing a job at a satisfactory level, seemingly anywhere I go.

I know the easy solution to a large percentage of the angst I experience on a daily basis would probably go away if I simply lowered my expectations on the world around me and were better capable of accepting the fact that the world is way less competent than I hope they could be, but it’s difficult for me.  I’m Korean, and culturally, Korean people expect a lot out of other people, and it’s never not disappointing when our expectations are not met.  This is a facet of my personality that in spite of my American upbringing that remains very much Korean, and it sucks because it means I’m an easy mark for disappointment, negativity and pessimism.

I don’t mean to be so negative and pessimistic and nihilistic about the world around me, but sometimes I really can’t help it.  I expect basic competence from everyone around me, and when everyone around me mostly, inevitably falls short, it’s a disappointment.  But I’m not going to apologize for voicing my opinions; I may try to be more cognizant that not everyone is going to want to hear them, but I don’t apologize if they come out.  If the world around me were more competent at their jobs and fostered efficiency and smooth operating, I wouldn’t have room for complaint, and in fact be grateful and praising of good work, because few things please me more than benefiting from efficient operating.

But as the subject of this post says, I know it’s not the world’s fault that I’m always so cranky and critical.  It’s entirely on me, because I have too many expectations from everyone, that I’m only setting myself up for let down and disappointment when they all inevitably fail to meet such par but lofty standards.  I’m working on it as much as a person like me can possibly work on it.

Order has been restored

While we were all sleeping: SK Telecom’s T1 squad wins the League of Legends World Championship for the fourth time, defeating China’s Weibo Gaming in a 3-0 stomping

Despite the fact that I don’t play anymore, I still had a loose ear to the ground when Worlds began.  Obviously, I’m always hopeful that a Korean team comes out the victor, but considering over the last few years, Chinese teams have finally gotten the monkey off their back and traded some championships with Korean squads, it’s really a jump ball between the two LoL powerhouse nations.

There was a moment of dread when the final four shook out to be three Chinese squads and T1 as Korea’s last hope, especially since the event was taking place in Korea, and I couldn’t think of a more disappointing scene than Chinese celebrating a championship in the home of their overlords.  The anxious feeling didn’t go away when T1 survived the semi-finals, because there was yet a second chance at China getting to upend Korea, and over the last few years, history has not been kind to T1, with more close calls than there were actual victories, with T1’s last championship being all the way back in 2016.

But that’s what’s good about something that’s happening on the other side of the planet, my ass was asleep while the finals were occurring, and I woke up to be pleasantly pleased to hear that T1 not only won the championship, they did so in an extremely dominant, one-sided affair, with not only T1 winning in a 3-0 sweep, the cumulative time of play was barely over 90 minutes, with T1 eating their breakfast in a sequence of 30 minute matches.

I’ve been to two Worlds championships too, I can assure that all the logistics, setup, festivities, ceremonies and break in between combined probably equaled to two days’ worth of hours, and fewer things are probably as unsatisfying to the event and all the people who traveled long distances to partake, than the actual main event lasting 90 minutes.  I’m quite tickled imagining the ironic dissatisfaction from all those who run the event that it was over so quickly.

I spent a few minutes this morning, trying to think of the best analogy to describe T1’s rofl-stomping of Weibo, to capture the combined sentiment of nationalism, shade, hometown pride and disappointment for spectators, and the following come to mind:

  • 2007 College Football National Championship: Florida cruises past Ohio State 41-14. Florida QB Chris Leak makes a remark about how they played tougher teams in the SEC than Ohio State
  • 1995 Houston Rockets: the #6 going into the playoffs, they are pushed the distance in every round of the Western Conference playoffs by the Jazz, Suns and Spurs, but then go on to sweep the Orlando Magic in the NBA Finals
  • 1997 Braves at Yankees: Greg Maddux throws a complete game shutout in 84 pitches to quickly dispatch of the Yankees. Legend has it that he did not shower and rushed out of the locker room immediately afterward because there was a tee-time he wanted to catch.
  • Tiny Toons: Happy World Land episode: Plucky Duck is invited on Hamton’s family trip to the Happy World Land amusement park, goes on a grueling miserable car trip, only to discover that after arriving, they only ride on the complimentary park monorail once, and call it a trip and go back home

I made a joke that Faker and/or the rest of the team probably had daily League of Legends practice at 7pm local that they didn’t want to be late to, because starting late meant finishing late, so it was in their best interests to put Weibo away as quickly as they could.

But anyway, just like that, SK Telecom wins their fourth LoL World Championship; and for the record, there have been 13 championships, with T1 being involved in seven of them, with them not even existing for the first two.  With Faker being a member of all of them, this is his fourth ship, an unprecedented achievement, especially in a field where change happens more rapidly than the stock market.  Needless to say, with an actual victory, order most definitely has been restored in the competitive League of Legends scene.

Dad Brog (#121): When we do what our parents did

#2 is sick and honestly in perspective it hasn’t been nearly as terrible as it’s been in the years past with the girls getting sick all the time.  Perhaps the world has kind of caught up to the backlog of colds, flus and other gross ailments and bugs.  Perhaps my kids’ immune systems have grown stronger from the onslaughts of colds, flus and other gross ailments and bugs over their short existences.  Maybe both.

Back to the point though, my youngest is sick right now, and it’s never easy on the soul as a parent when your kid is struggling through fever, discomfort and a body in revolt.  Nothing wants to be kept down, but she needs to stay hydrated, but consuming anything too fast results in it coming back up, so it’s a delicate game of trying to feed slow and steady so she doesn’t starve, but not too much lest it all comes back up and defeats the purpose.

Feed a cold, starve a fever, is what I always remember hearing.  I sure as heck didn’t really feel like eating when I was ailing just days prior.

Regardless, I felt it was probably best to keep any foods simple and stay away from the dairy and yogurts that my kids tend to eat when things are normal, but the options weren’t that many at my house which hasn’t yet fully reset and restocked since we returned from vacation.

That being said, given the circumstances of #2’s condition, I decided to take a page out of my mom’s book and take a stab at making jook (죽) which is basically a porridge made out of rice, or as lesser Asians know it as congee.  It was something my mom often made for me when I was a kid and suffering from keeping anything complex down, and I had memories of just how soothing it could be when you weren’t feeling well.

It also didn’t help-actually helped that I woke up at 5:30 this morning for no real reason, so I had an adequate amount of time to simmer and render down the rice and liquid before the kids woke up, and make a halfway passable 죽.  The real question mark was going to be, would my kids like it?  They’re at a finicky eating stage in life currently, but they do like it when I make fried rice, so there’s a chance that they might like rice in a different presentation, right??

Fortunately, after some morning snuggles, an explanation that the following recipe is something that halmoni (grandma) made for me when I was a kid, and I was going to make it for her, #2 actually ended up liking the 죽, much to my joyful satisfaction.  I mean, it’s basically mushy rice in a porridge consistency, and it takes to the same flavors as any ordinary rice.  So with a drop or two of soy sauce to give it some flavor, it has the same taste, but also goes down really smooth and is easy to digest, and I’m hoping that the pot of the 죽 I made can last another day or two and by then I hope she’s all better.

Unsurprisingly, #1 saw what her sister was eating and was curious, and turns out that she thought it was pretty good as well.  Great knowledge to have for when inevitably she gets sick too, that both my kids like the same stuff that I liked when I was a kid, and it does make me happy to do something like my mom did for me, for my own kids when they’re sick.

돈ball

Made in Korea: it’s discovered that talent in the Korean Basketball League have developed a system of converting high percentages of free throws across the league – the bank shot

Let me tell y’all just how much I love this story.  Most of my zero readers probably know just how much of a fan of Tim Duncan I was, with a large part of it being his reliance on the bank shot, so it should come as absolutely no surprise that this story gets me pumped up like nothing else, more so because it’s coming out of Korea.

Frankly, the only reason why bank shots are not utilized more in the most popular variants of basketball in Europe and America is simply the fact that “it’s not pretty” and is universally accepted as such, as if using the glass makes a basket count for less points.  A three-pointer is still worth three points whether it’s a high-arcing rainbow swish or a flat, zero spin clunk-clunk off of the glass.

But honestly this isn’t something that should be any surprise, because whether it’s a corner jumper from the wing, or from the free throw line, bank shots are designed to be high-percentage by utilizing geometry and physics to optimally a basketball through a hoop as safely and optimally as possible. 

Korea is obviously no powerhouse when it comes to the sport of basketball globally, but regardless, every Korean boy grows up thinking he can hoop and make it to the NBA.  Despite my dumpy prepubescent stature before hit my teenage years, there was no sport I loved more than basketball and I’m confident to say that I had a pretty decent jumper throughout the years in which I played a lot, but the point is basketball is still a distant runner-up when compared to the presence of baseball, soccer and even esports nationally.

That being said, with such low-presence, good for the Koreans for putting aside silly biases like the need to be aesthetic in exchange for improved efficiency and higher accuracy when it comes to shooting free throws.  And I love that they’ve found so much success with banking home a ton of free throws to the point where it’s gotten global attention, and opening up for discussion the validity of the technique, which of course, is best summed up with, why the fuck NOT consider the possibility of having struggling shooters try the bank out, especially if what they’re doing isn’t working?

I’ve touched on it before, but Shaq could have easily, easily eclipsed the vaunted 30,000 point milestone, had he been even just 5% better at shooting free throws in his career.  Here’s a guy that most definitely should have tried the glass at some point in his career, instead of chunking up the bricks that only went into the hoop at a career 54%.

And even LeBron James, as good as he, he’s still a career 73% free throw shooter; had he been able to reach even the 80% clip that both Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant both exceeded, he would’ve passed Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s scoring record nearly two seasons sooner.

I don’t disagree, bank shots aren’t pretty.  They’re ugly to watch, the clunk-clunk sound they make is goofy, and the way they explode the net and hang for a second before they fall through is unsightly.  Who doesn’t love the nice wet swish of a perfect shot, or when a Steph Curry bomb just pings the bottom of the back of the rim and barely moves the net at all?

I most certainly do, but there is one thing that I like more – scoring a lot of points.  And if an aversion to the glass solely because it’s just not as pretty is the only thing that stops me from scoring MJ points and keeps me in Jeff Hornacek scoring territory, I’m going to the bank seven days a week.

Like in so many walks of life, y’all can learn a lot from Korea.  It’s a culture obsessed with identifying ways to be more efficient, and it should come as zero surprise that they found and are exploiting a massive efficiency in the game of basketball, simply by sacrificing aesthetics for accuracy.  Because especially now and until the end of time, I don’t think there’s going to ever be another Mark Price who had both, the sweet shot and the deadeye accuracy at the stripe, so may as well start getting good at using the glass if we want to start evolving the game.

I feel like I sacrifice more than an Ultimate Warrior promo

With a post title like this, one might think that this was going to be yet another whiny, my-life-is-difficult diatribe where it can be assumed that I’m in a foul mood of some sort.  The thing is, I’m actually not in a particularly bad mood or anything, but it is just something that’s been on my mind a lot lately, and I just felt like typing out some words to see if anything comes to fruition, as that’s something the brog has served for me occasionally throughout the literal decades.

But to get to the point, I feel as if the vast majority of my life these days is spent making sacrifices all the time.  I don’t drive my own car into work most of the time, because my car is the big safe dadmobile with the childrens’ seats already set up in them, and it’s left with my au pair so that she can drop off and pick up my children from pre-K.  I drive our third car, which has served me fine, but it is older, needs more care, and lacks some of the conveniences that my own car provides.

At home, I no longer have an office or a space of my own because of our choice to employ an au pair, which is no knock on them, as I still consider it one of the best decisions we made as parents, and one that I would easily recommend to other parents of young children.  But the point remains, when the house gets crowded, or I feel the want or need to just go somewhere in my own house to hide out and take a breath in, I don’t always have such a reprieve.  This was exacerbated numerous times over the last few weeks with several house guests, and I found myself in a position where I just wanted a little bit of privacy and couldn’t have it.

Most of the time however though, are the sacrifices of my time and general self I feel that I make, and I sometimes ponder if I’m doing it too much.  I basically have no hobbies left because I don’t have time for them because my weekdays are all spent working, parenting and then I have like 3-4 hours a night “off” which doesn’t account of the time it takes to clean up after the kids, reset the house, and prepare a litany of things for the following day, so I really have like two hours a night in which I’m truly free to be off and relax, but not without a clock over my head knowing that I have to sleep at a sensible time, so often times I don’t do anything that substantial or the things I want to commit meaningful time to because two hours a night just doesn’t cut it.

On our most recent “vacation” I sacrificed myself to ensure that our au pair could get to experience some things about Disney World, since it is important to me that she gets to actually live some semblance of life while here, and not just be a nanny to the kids, but what it results in is me taking kid duty and ultimately not getting to really do anything that I might want to do, not that I could think of anything I’d want to do in Disney World anymore these days.

The point is, I feel like I’m always in a state of constant sacrifice that I don’t really know where I’m generally at with my life anymore.  All I want is just a single day in which I can sleep in and not have to be the first one up, preparing breakfast, preparing everything, dealing with the girls’ cranky morning tantrums, and have some substantial time to myself.  It doesn’t sound like a lot, but I haven’t found myself in a position to be able to enjoy such considerations in quite some time, and I’m pretty sure the last time I was able to take some time off, was when I hopped on a plane to go to Texas to visit my brother.  But opportunities like that are few and far between, because I’m financially strapped because I’m always sacrificing everything I make to try to support a lifestyle that might be a little too extravagant for my personal preference.

I read a book not long ago about a half-Korean girl dealing with the passing of her mother to cancer.  Piggybacking off my prior post about crying, I think I was drawn to this book because I knew it was going to be a real tear-jerker and I was seeking out something to help burst my dams, but it was still a good read.  But one of the takeaways from the book, and I’m sure it was really meant to be sage wisdom passed down from a Korean mother to her daughter, but I feel like it could apply to a Korean man like me, was that far too often, there are people who give 100% of themselves to their families.  Such is not necessarily a bad thing, especially at the ages of my children, they need everything I can give to them, but her wisdom was to hold back 10% of one’s selves, and keep it for ourselves.

That stuck with me, because I feel like I’m currently living a life where I’m constantly giving 100% to my family, but in doing so, I’m completely devoid of having absolutely anything for myself.  Recently, I’m trying to look for ways to try and gain back any percentage of myself, and even if I succeed, I highly doubt that I’ll be able to get up to 10%.  I guess I’m just such a sacrifice-er, that if I can get to like 5% of myself back, that should be considered a win.

I tried to treat myself to a new pair of shoes; but like so many indulgences in the world, whenever I find something that I might like, it turns out to be what everyone else tends to like, and the specific shoes that I decided I want a pair of, apparently, they’re so hard to get a hold of, that when Foot Locker gets a new shipment of them in, they’re basically treated like an online queue lottery system that everyone has to fight over, and only the lucky ping lottery winners actually get an opportunity to get.  Seriously, I made it through the virtual queue in three minutes, but my size was apparently already sold out, and within ten minutes, they were sold out of all sizes, presumably because of re-sellers and StockX pirates just grabbing anything they can get their hands on.

So, so much for trying to get any semblance of any % back for myself in that regard, back to the drawing board.  But the bottom line is that I just need to stop sacrificing 100% of myself, and find little ways to keep semblances of me, for myself, otherwise I end up as, well, this.  An angsty, emotionally volatile, usually irritable and mad, deep-fried burnt out dad.

I feel like we’ve seen this before

Déjà vu: South Korea denies Germany opportunity to advance to the knockout stage in the World Cup with 1-1 draw

Shoutout to the South Korean women’s World Cup squad for doing basically the exact same thing that the men’s squad did in 2018.  Despite lackluster, uninspiring performances in their first two groups matches and in spite of being paired up against powerhouse Germany in their final groups match, they kept their heads help up high and played out of their minds, and in the process, cockblocked Germany from advancing to the knockout stage.

I’m not going to pretend like I follow women’s futbol on the regular, but I am often curious to see how the US women do, because I do enjoy the train of US women futbol players shouldn’t get equal pay to their men counterparts, because frankly I think they should get more, seeing as how they’re usually way more successful on the global stage than the boys are.  And when you have a global stage, I’ve always got an ear open to see how Korea is doing, if they’re even present at all.

When I saw that the Korean women had dropped their first two matches, I had this dread that the squad was going to exit the tournament without having scored a single goal, which would be pretty embarrassing.  I didn’t really think that a repeat of the 2018 men’s tournament was a chance, since I didn’t think there was any way that a country as proud and futbol-centric as Germany would allow for it to happen.

But unlike the men’s match that took 94 minutes to drive a knife into the hearts of Germany, the women apparently only needed just four minutes, when 조소현 scored a goal, putting the instant pressure on the Germans to not only have to equalize, but score at least two, in order to have a chance at gaining enough points in order to move on.  To add insult to injury, concurrently, Morocco scored on Columbia to tip the point scale even further for Germany, and despite them equalizing with Korea, the 1-1 tie at the end wasn’t enough to secure passage into the knockout stage, and what we have is that once again, Koreans sent Germany packing from the World Cup. 

They might have performed poorly throughout the tournament, but at least they finished strong, much like their male counterparts five years prior, left the World Cup on a high note.

At Germany’s expense.  lol’d

O pilsung corea, motherfuckers