Best 530 quotes in «soccer quotes» category

Football is the poetry of a motion.

Football is an art players paint with their feet.

For all the enlightened nations that profess a loyalty to liberty, democracy, economy and all the rest, there has long been a readiness to look for a chosen one; as Carlyle pointed out, even the French, those great anti-venerators, those relentless beheaders of Great Men, worshipped Voltaire.

He was the northern star. I had no choice but to become enveloped in his brightness and let it coax me toward him. Wanting him was an unconscious impulse, like taking my next breath.

Gli italiani perdono le partite di calcio come se fossero guerre e perdono le guerre come se fossero partite di calcio.

He looks at me, the circle, then me again. “It’s really you, right? I didn’t create some simulacrum that was inhabited by a demon? Prove it’s you. Say something only Spencer would say.” “Like what?” “Say something annoying.” I think about it. “Well, you claim to be British, there’s really only one thing I can think of.” “That being?” I lean in close, my lips gently brushing his ear. “Soccer.” He shoves me away. “Fuck. You. It’s foot… Yeah, it’s you.

He slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me against him, tossing the ice cream cone over his shoulder. It landed with a splat on the sidewalk. "So does that mean I have a varsity girlfriend?" I giggled like a total girl and linked my hands behind his neck. "Yeah I guess it does." "Sweet." Then he bent his head, and I stood up on my tiptoes and we met in the middle. And it was perfect.

I thought, if we could just come together as a community, even if that just meant playing soccer together, that could be the beginning of something good. Coming together as a community, as a people, creates more power than exists when individuals are fighting each other for scraps. Soccer has always brought people together. Soccer was where I would begin.

I'm not saying that we're Disney, but if you think about it, it's not that dissimilar, Berrada said. We have characters - which are players - that our fans relate to; we put on a show every three or four days. And then we take that show around the world in the summer. In that sense, we are part of the entertainment industry.

In three weeks, the women's team had done more for soccer in the United States than any team had ever done. Yet, the United States Soccer Federation was unprepared and unwelcoming in its acerbic response to the women's success. With petty, resentful, chauvinistic behavior, the federation would bungle what should have been its greatest moment as a national governing body. Its leaders would criticize DiCicco instead of congratulating him, they would threaten to sue the women over an indoor victory tour and they would wait an unacceptably long period before entering into contract negotiations with the team. Then, at the end of the year, the federation would offer a deal that the women found insulting. Unwilling to trust that the federation was bargaining in good faith, the women would boycott a trip to a tournament in Australia. They would become champions of the world, embraced by the president, by the largest crowd ever to watch women play and by the largest television audience for soccer in this country, embraced by everyone, it seemed, but the officials who ran the sport with the vision of a student council. Increasingly, it appeared, the only amateurs left in sports were the people running the federations that governed them.

I still remember what my father said "There are on the stadium 22 idiots, which are running after ball.". From where did he knew that?? He knew it from guarding the stadium, so my question is why we don't watch how a dog catch a ball? But we watch 22 idiots running after the ball?? What are the differences?? That the dog can't kick the ball, but the humanity can?? - Wow, wow that's a great discovery for a dumb person!

I think you're a shit,’ said Keith sharply. ‘I think much of what you’ve done this season is shit and I think what you've put everyone involved with this club through is shit. How’s that?

His gaze was unflinching and solid. If someone could have light sabers in their eyes, it would be him.

In any game, the game itself is the prize, no matter who wins, ultimately both lose the game.

I need young people who are ashamed of the current situation of the team -Red White Love: The Love of Liverpool FC

[...] insist upon remembering. Because we know that the lessons of yesterday's loss become the fuel for tomorrow's win.

I read somewhere that spiders can spin silk strong enough to hold the weight of a thousand trucks. I tried to imagine those lines of silver, thinner than air, stronger than steel. Sometimes I think that a hundred webs, invisible gossamers, connect Gracie and me. They coat our bodies, tie our limbs together, link our hearts. They can stretch across cities, countries – even anger. Unbreakable. I felt them that first time I watched her play soccer. She needed to win so badly. I watched a new Gracie crack out of her cocoon that day. Grey, moth-like, she seemed covered in a dust that let her take to the air. Fly. They’re beautiful things, moths, with their dark patterned wings hooking on wind to push them forward. You have to be careful with them, though. Brush them just lightly, and they can’t fly anymore.

It is often said in soccer that a country's particular style of play bears the fingerprints of its social and political nature. Thus the Germans are unfailingly characterized as resourceful and organized, while Brazilians are said to dance with the ball to the free-form, samba rhythms of Carnival. In the husk of cliche lies a kernel of truth. The Communist system of China had produced a collectivist style of women's soccer from the early 1980s to the mid-1990s.

It’s an enemy that I can’t allow to wound me a second time. It’s already done enough damage: most of it hidden far from the surface.

Men spend their time in following a ball or a hare; it is the pleasure even of kings.

I understand why people play [soccer]. ... I even learned how to talk the game. It was the opposite of trash talking—tidy talking. I suppose you'd have to call it. If you did something good, it was brilliant; something less than brilliant was useless; if all of you were useless together, you were rubbish; and if a person did something brilliant that nonetheless became useless, everyone cried, 'Oh, unlucky!' – 216

Ma Gigi era doppiamente diverso: perché portava avanti certe idee in un ambiente che ne ha poche e poco ardite, cioè nell'ambiente dello sport; e perché le portava avanti con originalità, con profonda convinzione.

Many before have hailed the end of history; none have ever been right.

No alaram clock needed. My passion wakes me up.. !

Nightmare completed, another humiliating defeat. 10 goals in 2 game. It will take time to come out from such humiliating defeat for Brazilian fans. But I think when you like something, when you fall to someone, when you are in love, you like them whatever happens, even they give tears to you time to time because you liked it from your heart.

Okay, on my first night, he tried to chat me up. You know how the story goes. ‘You have the most beautiful eyes, I’m very rich, want to see my bedroom?’ Blah, blah, blah.” “And because you turned him down, he’s more determined than ever,” Will guessed, with amazing accuracy. “You did turn him down, right?” “Of course,” I told him, insulted by the insinuation I would drop my knickers for a glass of wine. “Do you think I’d risk my job for a quick tumble in the sheets with him?

Oh really?’ said Mayes raising a mocking eyebrow which put Rob in mind of a poor man’s Roger Moore. ‘And what on earth makes you think that you of all people would be allowed anywhere near our board meeting? Rob’s smile widened as he realised that he was about to have one of those golden bombshell moments of the type he’d been on the receiving end of all too frequently over the last few days. ‘Because Mr. Mayes, I’m your new chairman.

Soccer writers seemed as starved for entertainment as art critics, anything vaguely enjoyable gets promoted to the level of genius. ~ 219

Schon früh zeichnete sich ab, dass mit meinem starken linken Fuß nicht zu spaßen war.

One day the UN Secretary General proposes that, in the interest of global peace and harmony, the world's soccer players should come together and form one United Nations global soccer team. "Great idea," says his deputy. "Er, but who would we play?" "Israel, of course.

One of the things about football fans in general is that they all think that they’re the same. But they are not. This is a myth put about by people who wish that they were the same as the geezers. There are, in fact, a number of distinctive types of supporter, and although they all have a role to play, they are all very different indeed.

Por encima del contacto sólo existe ya un único nivel de actividad, el último, y quisiera señalar, para hacerle justicia a Martin, que aquellos que sólo persiguen este último nivel son hombres míseros y primitivos que me recuerdan a los jugadores de fútbol de pueblo, que se precipitan irreflexivamente hacia la portería del adversario, olvidando que lo que conduce al gol (y a muchos goles más) no es la simple voluntad alocada de disparar, sino, ante todo, un juego preciso y honesto en el medio campo.

She looked at the guy. Anger seethed inside her. "Give me that dumb ball. This has not been a good day, and I really can't take any more." "Come get it, then." He smirked and ran away from her, kicking the ball lightly with the inside of his feet. He didn't look down, and he never lost control over it. Tianna sighed and shook her head. "Come on." He taunted her, and picked up speed. "You afraid you can't get it back from me?" Something exploded inside her. She felt it like a hot fire flashing up to her face. She dashed after him and caught him in seconds. He seemed surprised by her speed but also delighted. When she reached him, he darted away, changing direction, but it seemed as if her body had anticipated where he was going to go and she ran parallel with him, her feet tipping in and trying to steal the ball. He laughed and shifted his weight in one direction, then took off running in the other, using the inside of his foot to roll the ball. "Wrong thing to do," she shouted angrily. This time her feet went on automatic. She ran alongside him, then swung her leg in front of him and struck the near side of the ball. It popped away from him. Her foot shot out again. He tripped and fell flat on his back. She picked up the ball and sauntered back to him, then held out her hand to help him up. "You don't have to smile so big," he said with a matching grin. He took her hand. His felt warm and strong. She couldn't help but smile. No wonder they put her on the team so quickly. Her feet had talent. She was a master.

Sports benefit the spectators the least.

Something deep in my character allows me to take the hits, and get on with trying to win.

The guys who play it [soccer] are kinda dumb. Why don't they just kick the crap out of the guy in front of the net? Then they could score all they want.

Substitution is a true test of strength. The real performance of a player is seen not only during playing time but also and more especially when the player is substituted.

Tall and still in fantastic shape, my poor, stupid, stupid heart gave a little thump in recognition of an attractive man. Then I stomped it to death and reminded myself he was just a guy.

Until you find where the goal post is, you shall only exert all your precious energy and ability shooting in the direction of goal kick without scoring any goal

(The paradox of Italian soccer). As everyone knows, Italian men are the most foppish representatives of their sex on the planet. They smear on substantial quantities of hair care products and expend considerable mental energies color-coordinating socks with belts. Because of their dandyism, the world has Vespa, Prada, and Renzo Piano. With such theological devotion to aesthetic pleasure, it is truly perplexing that their national style of soccer should be so devoid of this quality.

The problem is politics is made a sport, almost as much a sport as football or baseball. When it comes to politics, adults and politicians do more finger-pointing and play more games than children ever do. Too often are we rooting for the pride of a team rather than the good of the nation.

The smell of the sweat is not sweet, but the fruit of the sweat is very sweet.

The Stadium Have you ever entered an empty stadium? Try it. Stand in the middle of the field and listen. There is nothing less empty than an empty stadium. There is nothing less mute than stands bereft of spectators. At Wembley, shouts from the 1966 World Cup, which England won, still resound, and if you listen very closely you can hear groans from 1953 when England fell to the Hungarians. Montevideo’s Centenario Stadium sighs with nostalgia for the glory days of Uruguayan soccer. Maracanã is still crying over Brazil’s 1950 World Cup defeat. At Bombonera in Buenos Aires, drums boom from half a century ago. From the depths of Azteca Stadium, you can hear the ceremonial chants of the ancient Mexican ball game. The concrete terraces of Camp Nou in Barcelona speak Catalan, and the stands of San Mamés in Bilbao talk in Basque. In Milan, the ghosts of Giuseppe Meazza scores goals that shake the stadium bearing his name. The final match of the 1974 World Cup, won by Germany, is played day after day and night after night at Munich’s Olympic Stadium. King Fahd Stadium in Saudi Arabia has marble and gold boxes and carpeted stands, but it has no memory or much of anything to say.

Though the legs of a football coach are never so active on the field of play during playing time, his mind is the best or worst player on the pitch!

Two hours later, a noise resembling a hippo rolling along a corrugated iron roof shook Jane from her doze and Rob bursts through the living room door.

Victory was inexorable, Overbeck believed, because the Americans wanted it more, because they had trained harder in the Florida swamp heat and because they had competed more fiercely among teammates who turned pumpkin carving and card games and scavenger hunts into blood sport, because they had survived the lean years of backpack travel and diets of candy bars and queasy soup steeping with the heads of chickens, because they had ridden the coal trains until their faces were black with soot, because they had lived in rickety hotels with one hour of hot water out of 24, because they had run sprints in hotel stairways and parking lots and abandoned fields, because they ignored the disbelievers, building their sport from nothing into a consuming moment, a galvanizing instant, that would make people remember where they were and what they were doing.

There's a strange uniformity in the vocabulary European soccer fans use to hate black people. The same primate insults get hurled. Although they've gotten better over time, the English and Italians developed the tradition of making ape noises when black players touched the ball. The Poles toss bananas on the field. This consistency owes nothing to television, which rarely shows these finer points of fan behavior. Nor are these insults considered polite to discuss in public. This trope has simply become a continent-wide folk tradition, transmitted via the stadium, from fan to fan, from father to son.

The rise of the English Premier League is a story about the sports world's wildest gold rush. In the span of twenty-five years, the league's twenty clubs have increased their combined value by 10,000 percent, from around $100 million in 1992 to $15 billion today.

These days, things were different. Much different. For the most part, what fun there was to be had at Upton Park came from the cat and mouse side of the contest. Thinking on your feet and trying to outwit old bill while still trying to get one over on the opposition. It was like a real life computer game, Theme Hooligan. He still got a buzz from it though, but not the same buzz. And he wasn’t alone. The scene was dying on its arse although that wasn’t always down to the police.

Though the legs of a football coach are never so active on the field of play during playing time, his mind is the best or worse player on the pitch!