Last Night's Party: Border-War Soccer Edition
I'm damn near speechless this morning and not because Deuce Dempsey got robbed, or because the US defending at times mirrored French military tactics (right this way Mr. Kaiser, your table is waiting). I'm just shocked that I actually predicted this one with preternatural accuracy: I wrote yesterday that it would be 2-2 with Drew Moor as the goat, which contrary to what LL Cool J will tell you does not stand for "Greatest Of All Time".
Since I'm too creeped-out by my newly revealed future-seeing powers to write anything up, I'm going to let the pictures do the talking a la Last Night's Party. But with less pictures, more type and (regretably) no boobs.