I returned after my long exile, chained and gagged in a charming basement of the ultras of Williams, after my last piece of love and reverence for the park sisters club, I managed to break free and then find the strength to be here among you, once and for all times to be (?). What better opportunity then to celebrate the historic event that finally led to our country the chance to love our sport freely no chains no longer like a hawk in the middle? Yes, I mean just Supertennis, Wikileaks of the tv, built against everything and everyone, to the delight of all of us from different Assange, Angelo Binaghi.
now seems distant times Telecapodistria Faust, who gave us the biggest tournaments without a mortgage, tournaments that have made us grow, discovering tennis and love the great champions. Auspicious times then become detrimental, with more than one canvas paintings then become blacker then (after protests from viewers leaguers) become Sky Sky just now and then football and tennis, Wimbledon aside, there could not care less. Times unfortunate that we have forced a bit ' unlikely to seek all streaming from videophones to continue to love and praise our champions, of course, changed over time, to our sadness. (Plural nous).
But now something has changed, and no matter the various criticisms that you do mystifying rain pushed each point (this is for tastes delicious), ungenerous criticism of a TV quality video illegal in Uzbekistan, the graphics given birth to a commodore 64 infested virus, and another game is also a darkness signal during the Davis Cup final, the transition to digital terrestrial difficult as the Fibonacci series in memory after five pints of beer, the newsreels of the son of Gale (yes, Gale's son) and Galimberti engaging and relevant as those of Del Debbio comment on whether the Golf.
This is just gossip. Supertennis Force, a new Italian miracle.
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