A Quote by Dimitar Berbatov
If Lukaku is not as good as others with his first touch, then give him a ball that he can handle.
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I like Lukaku. No matter what harsh judgement he gets, he's a good player - he's powerful and quick - but he needs more support. It's easy to criticise and judge, but he needs support give him a push to boost his confidence.
He was magnificent; very clever with outstanding technique. He could pass the ball over five yards or fifty; he could see things to set up other people; he could shoot and he could score goals. If you gave me Paul Scholes and ten others, I would be happy. I would tell them to give him the ball and then we would have a good team.
The first time I faced him I watched him take that easy windup and then something went past me that made me flinch. The thing just hissed with danger. We couldn't touch him... Every one of us knew we'd met the most powerful arm ever turned loose in a ball park.
When I'm talking about a football brain, the very first time the ball's kicked in the air and Lukaku completely outjump's you and you get absolutely nowhere near it, that's when your brain clicks in. You know what you do, let him go and win it.Take a step off and when he flicks it on, guess what, you bring it down on your chest.
Any man will admit if need be that his sight is not good, or that he cannot swim or shoots badly with a rifle, but to touch upon his sense of humour is to give him mortal affront.
Not everyone can handle success, but look at Rajinikanth. His films release all over India, his fans worship him and what not. But when I first met him, I felt like he is one of us.
At times I perhaps get a bit frustrated because I maybe don't get to touch the ball as much as I want, but when I do get to touch the ball, it's obviously in good positions and I'm scoring so I can't really argue.
A lot is made of the pink ball. But it is the same really. A good ball is a good ball, regardless of the colour. You might want to bowl a touch fuller with the pink ball when it is nipping around but generally a pink kookaburra behaves the same as a red kookaburra.
He had grieved for me, I'll give him that much. But then he is so good at grieving! He wears woe as others wear velvet; sorrow flatters him like the light of candles; tears become him like jewels.
And so I look at it as a relationship that I have with him that I want to give him the honor and glory anytime I have the opportunity. And then right after I give him the honor and glory, I always try to give my teammates the honor and glory. And that's how it works because Christ comes first in my life, and then my family, and then my teammates.
And then something truly bizarre happened. I could feel his touch through our eyes. I couldn't look away from him. The girl in front of him seemed to disappear, and all there was in the hallway was him and the sweet, beautiful smell of his blood.
If I'm in a good position to score then I'm happy to put the ball in the back of the net, but if I'm not, and I see someone in a better position, I'll give it to him.
When one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others. Only when one is connected to one's own core is.
When one is a stranger to oneself, then one is estranged from others, too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others. Only when one is connected to one's own core, is one connected to others. And for me, the core, the inner spring, can best be re-found through silence.
He grinned when I didn't protest, and lowered his mouth toward mine. The first touch was just that - a touch. A teasing, tempting softness. I licked my lips and Patch's grin deepened. "More?" he asked. I curled my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. "More.
Oh, the fullness, pleasure, sheer excitement of knowing God on Earth! I care not if I never raise my voice again for Him, if only I may love Him, please Him. Mayhap in mercy He shall give me a host of children that I may lead them through the vast star fields to explore His delicacies whose finger ends set them to burning. But if not, if only I may see Him, touch His garments, smile into His eyes - ah then, not stars nor children shall matter, only Himself.
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