July 19, 2018
Undisclosed Location: Russian Federation
Agent ******* Embedded
I am on my last legs here somewhere outside of Saint Petersburg.
Russian agents have chased me all over the country to gain hold of so infamous a spy and to stop these reports from reaching you blessed folks at home, but I have remained half a step ahead with my cunning, my fortitude, and the help of the “Boogie Nights” soundtrack for motivation whenever I begin to tire.
I can only hope that the information I have relayed over the last few weeks has helped shed a light on the machinations of the world’s most prestigious athletic competition and the secrets that hover just beneath it.
It hasn’t been easy but neither is UC Berkeley. If I never make it out alive, please tell my family I love them, and by family I mean the Hell Yeah guy on Telegraph Avenue. As for my estate, I bequeath all my holdings to the athletic department, because God knows that debt isn’t going to pay itself off.
To boba. To hills. To unaffordable housing. To the people. To UC Berkeley.
Until we meet again. In this semester or the next, Oskispeed.
The French now control the world.
Not since Napoleon Bonaparte or Coco Chanel has the international order been so dominated by French strength, and with talents such as Paul Pogba, N’Golo Kanté and Antoine Griezmann, it does not appear that the French are anywhere close to slowing down — even with all that creamy butter they consume.
The French have even turned small children such as the 9-year-old Kylian Mbappé into soccer superstars and spread propaganda that he is actually “19 years old.” The Ninja Turtle mask suggests otherwise.
In much the same fashion of their triumph over the Belgians, the French again ceded possession to the opposition in favor of a more conservative and defensive-minded approach, yet still generated more quality chances than their opponents. The French had obvious attacking talent all over the field, but French commander Didier Deschamps refused to unleash the full potential of his squad for fear that his nation’s citizens would fall into an ecstasy trip they would never return from, aka Jimmy Fallon syndrome.
The Croatians fought valiantly, sending dozens of crosses into the box while their midfield masters Luka Modrić and Ivan Rakitić bravely led their squad through the heart of the French front lines. Unfortunately the Croatians’ picnic table uniforms made it difficult for them to advance undetected. The VAR (video assistant referee) did not help matters in that regard either, awarding the French a penalty kick after it was revealed that the Croatians had committed a handball, which Griezmann took advantage of with a kick to the back of the net and a “Fortnite” dance. My sources have informed me that that is the highest form of disrespect in middle school culture.
The Croatians may have ultimately lost the battle but it’s arguable that they won the war. For a country with a population of about 4 million, roughly equal to the population of Kentucky or the average price of a Berkeley parking ticket, just to make it this far is an achievement in itself. Our intelligence operatives are also looking into whether we can harness the power of the Croatian president’s hugs.
America was the real loser of this World Cup for failing to even qualify for the damn thing, but at least one of our countrymen got a shoutout.
See you four years from now in *rubs eyes in disbelief* … Qatar? I am not so sure I’ll survive in that heat.
Over and out.
This is a satirical article written purely for entertainment purposes.
Rory O’Toole writes for Bear Bytes, the Daily Californian’s sports blog. Contact him at [email protected].