Ah, saiba, everyone says astroturf ruined us, but I saw lads with more talent in their left thumb than our whole '72 squad had in their feet. The decline was in our bellies, not the turf — after Munich, they stopped feeding us eggs and fish, gave us lentils and promises. I learned this stitching nets for the fisherfolk here: you can't make strong rope with weak fibre, same as you can't make champions with empty stomachs. The grass was just softer to fall on when we were already starving.
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