Most other players, after such a prolonged spell on the naughty step, would have made ostentatious yardage from their goal, running around, pointing to the name on the back of their shirt, making a gesture to the bench, high-fiving the fans. Not Mario [Balotelli].

My father used to take me with him ormering.

He came to the red men of the isthmus of America, and they foretyped the blood sacrifice of Jesus the Son of God—and slew thousands of young men!

bridgework