It's not important whether England and Italy were the two best teams. What mattered was having the heavies in the building.
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The Round of 16 has proven how pointless (my) predictions can be. I’m 2-4 from Sunday’s picks. It's a depressing record. A few of you have told me as much. Keep the ridicule coming. My predictions, disappointing as they are, came from assumptions based on the small amount of information gathered from the first round, and to a greater extent, years of bias.
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It's literally 45 minutes before the first of the Round of 16 games kicks off, so we're very much sneaking this in under the wire, pals.
Predictions. Round of 16.
You hold can hold the Jeaner's our feet to the fire later on.
Vamanos.
If you don’t watch Portugal play very often you probably don't see a lot of Pepe. Every tournament he resurfaces with that piss-boiling brand of diving, card-baiting and finger-waving that has made him such rewarding television-shouting-at value down the years.
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France/Germany felt like a final. I called my old coach at halftime. He thanked me for not calling him during the game. I appreciated his civility.
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I haven’t cried next to my dad in a long time, but I had no other response in those moments when Christian Eriksen was on the ground. Only numbness and fear.
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