July, 15th 2018. This kind of day you’ll remember for the rest of your life. 8pm in Moscow. 7pm in Paris. And 6pm in London. France just won the second World Cup final of its history. 4-2 against Croatia after a game so stressful we couldn’t even drink a beer. We will remember the tension, but the one thing we will never forget is the celebration after each goal scored by France team. And there is this very moment when we thought, you know what, fuck it. I don’t give a damn to wake up hangover, to arrive a couple of hours late at work. I just want to live this fully, and make the most of it. Memories from tonight are gonna last for ever. We’re going to the city center, to celebrate with people we don’t know and we want to punch every morning in the tube. As we weren’t invited to Moscow and as our organisation is almost as good as Saudi Arabia defence, we are in London for the final. We wanted England to make it so bad so we could enjoy a big clash on England soil, but you know what, England needed to be good on the pitch and not rely only on the luck to only face average teams. We’re heading toward Piccadilly Circus to join thousands of French people who totally lost their shit away from home. We saw lots of things that night. Some we will tell our grandsons in years from now, some we won’t. But fuck man, when you’re Champion of the world, why should you care? Just do the fuck you want.
