#dynamo stadium

[anastasiamaru]

Old Kyiv

"Château de Fleurs"

In 1863, a French entrepreneur opened the entertainment venue "Château de Fleurs" (Castle of Flowers) on the site of the modern-day Dynamo Stadium. The cafe-chantant, as it was called in French style, housed a restaurant, concert halls for performances, a dance hall, a summer theater, and a beer bar. It also featured the city's only park with a paid entrance fee of 40 kopecks on the busiest days. Dining at "Château de Fleurs" was also available only by subscription, costing from 9 to 15 rubles per month, depending on the number of meals one could have per day.

The name of the park fully reflected its concept. The park was adorned with flower beds featuring a wide variety of flowers.

Every season at the Château was marked by the emergence of a new pop star, a new spectacle, or attraction.

Ivan Nechui-Levytsky( Ukrainian writer, one of the founders of Ukrainian realism. His works are known for their depth and humanism)described the Château in his novella "Clouds":

..."At the Château, there was a grand celebration. The posters announced that that evening there would be Tyrolean songs sung in the garden, then fireworks would be set off, and at the end, Bengal lights and a fireworks display. A large crowd gathered! The entire Château in the valley was filled with masses of people."

Шато Де Флер👆

An old map where the Château de Fleurs still exists

Château de Fleurs closed in 1894 due to financial difficulties and changes in management. Later, Dynamo Stadium was built on its site.

[wallpapers4screen]

[emhizdaking]

Chaos in Hamburg: Lazio Fans Banned from Europa League Clash Against Dynamo Kyiv

In an unexpected twist for Lazio supporters, a group of fans has been banned from attending the upcoming UEFA Europa League match against Dynamo Kyiv at the Volksparkstadion in Hamburg. This decision follows police interventions related to the ongoing war in Ukraine, which has forced the match to be relocated from Ukraine to Germany. The Context of the Match Relocation The war in Ukraine has…

[enwoso]

hall of fame | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

as promised pt2 of lovie enjoying the champions league win!

grumpy masterlist

‘one trophy. one wild five-year-old. one iconic chant. welcome to what could be arsenals most unforgettable homecoming.’

the emirates was still buzzing long after the final whistle. banners waved. chants echoed into the summer day. red and white confetti clung to every surface. and in the middle of it all — the stage, glowing under floodlights, filled with laughter, dancing, and raw, unfiltered joy.

arsenal women  — champions of europe.

alessia stood near the center, hair a little messy as sunglasses clung to her head, her medal glinting under the lights. around her, her teammates bounced, hugged, and chanted with the fans who packed every corner of the stadium.

katie had taken over the mic and, predictably, all chaos followed. "COME ON YOU GUNNERS!" katie roared, hands raised triumphantly.

the crowd thundered back. "what do we think of tottenham?!"

"SHITE!"

katie spun around on her heel, dopey but proud smile on her lips. "thank you!"

to alessia's left, beth was still doing a full-body shimmy with vic and manu, while steph tried to pull laia out of the line of fire of frida's rogue confetti cannon. kim stood in the back sipping from a paper cup and shaking her head fondly like a parent watching a school play spiral out of control.

and there, right beside alessia, sitting squarely on her hip with confetti tangled in your hair and a little arsenal flag in your hand — was you.

five years old. wearing a tiny russo 23 jersey which admittedly was all you had worn all weekend. already the most talked-about figure of the celebration.

"careful with that confetti lovie," alessia said as you prepared to fling another handful.

"it's like sparkly rain," you whispered dramatically, throwing it into the air with both hands.

alessia winced as a bit stuck to her lip. "fabulous! we are both walking disco balls now."

a few of the girls gathered around, drawn to the tiny dynamo. "tiny's gonna start charging appearance fees," beth laughed, crouching beside you. "i swear she's more famous than us."

"i told her that already," kyra added with a wink. "she said she wants her own locker."

you grinned nodding your head. "yes! with stickers, lots."

alessia just sighed with a wide smile. "we've created a monster."

and then came leah as she stepped up to the mic, wearing her champions league medal over the champions shirts the entire squad were wearing, face flushed from celebration but eyes soft. leah glanced around the stage, taking in her teammates, her family, and then turned slightly to look at alessia and you.

her voice cracked a little as she spoke. "this club... this team... my club, my arsenal. we've made history. but none of it happens without the people behind the scenes. the mums, the dads, the siblings. the little ones. the future."

leah paused, and her gaze finding yours, as you were now proudly standing on the crate someone had pulled out for you, mere inches away from leah.

"i want to shout out one person in particular," leah said, voice thick with emotion. "a very special little girl, who has managed to keep me a little bit more grounded and make the lows of this season that little bit bearable even if you do call me lord farrquad each time i cut my hair. this trophy's for you my angel."

the crowd let out a collective "awww."

alessia blinked quickly, her arm tightening around her daughter's small frame. you, however, took it a very different way.

you raised both arms, looked out into the sea of fans, and shouted at full volume: "WHAT DO WE THINK OF TOTTENHAM?!"

there was a beat. silence. and then—absolute chaos. the crowd screamed back: "SHITE!"

you grinned like you'd just scored the winning goal in the champions league final.alessia closed her eyes as she couldn't believe you'd managed to turn such a sweet and wholesome moment into this. "oh my god."

"WHAT DO WE THINK OF SHITE?!"

"TOTTENHAM!"

"THANK YOU!"

katie dropped to her knees in laughter, rolling on the stage. "yes!, tiny! raise 'em right!"

"she's gonna be a menace at school on monday," leah whispered to alessia as she quickly planted a kiss to her cheek, smiling even as she wiped her eyes. "that's our child, by the way."

"don't remind me," alessia groaned playfully.

you stood proudly, clearly thinking you'd just saved the entire event. then you turned and waved dramatically at the crowd, your flag in one hand and your arms in the air.

"hi nonno!" you shouted. down by the front barricade, alessia's parents were in stitches. her dad had both hands up clapping. her mum had tears in her eyes, shaking her head.

"did you teach her that?" alessia called down to her brother giorgio, knowing it was right up his street of tricks.

"not guilty," he shouted holding his hands up in innocence. "that was all mccabe!”

"she's got lungs, i'll give her that," alessia's mum said, leaning over to wave. "you were never that loud."

"she's brave too," added alessia's dad. "the whole audience!"

you cupped your hands around your mouth. "mummy said i could swear once!"

"i said maybe in ten years," alessia corrected, exasperated, ruffling your hair as you held onto the barrier.

giorgio just laughed. "i think the mic picked that up."

"brilliant," alessia muttered, shifting you on your hip. "hope she enjoyed her fifteen minutes of fame — and grounding."

"no grounded," you said confidently. "m' a champion."

"your something alright."

back on stage, confetti cannons exploded again. you flung another handful over katie's head, which made her dramatically pretend to faint. emily made a face as she plucked glitter from her hair. kim just shook her head, sipping her drink.

"she's one of us now," steph said, watching the chaos.

"oh, she's captain material," leah added with a grin, still watching you fondly. "just give it fifteen years."

alessia glanced around at her teammates, her family, you — who now had the entire emirates wrapped around her finger.

in the background, the champions league trophy stood tall as it was passed around the group. but right now? that didn't matter nearly as much as your giggling frame in your mummy's arms.

because right now, the world belonged to arsenal... and you!

[polo-drone-069]

The holographic banners rippled and danced above the Galactic Gridiron, their vibrant colors reflecting off the polished metallic field.  The roar of the hundred thousand strong crowd was a physical force, pressing down on the players below.  Announcer Bot’s voice, usually a smooth baritone, was laced with an edge of barely contained excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Super Bowl! The pinnacle of the Galactic Gridiron!  The energy here is off the charts! The Golden Knights and the Emerald Titans are locked in a battle for the ages! The score is tied 49 to 49!  Just seconds remain!  Who will claim the coveted Galactic Gridiron trophy?”

The camera swept across the field, showcasing the Emerald Titans.  They stood as a unified force, their emerald and shadow uniforms gleaming under the stadium lights.  Their faces, etched with grim determination, reflected the fire in their eyes.

“They haven’t forgotten our last encounter,” Announcer Bot growled, his voice echoing through the stadium. “They’ve trained, they’ve studied us, they want their revenge. They’re coming at us with everything they’ve got, ready to prove they belong on top.”

The camera then shifted to the Golden Knights’ sideline. The Knights, clad in their gleaming metallic gold and black armor, exuded an aura of confidence.  They were ready.

“But this is our game,” Announcer Bot declared. “This is our house. This is our moment. The stakes have never been higher! This isn’t just another win. This is the Super Bowl! This is for the title! This is for supremacy! This is for GOLD!”

The crowd erupted, a deafening wave of sound washing over the field.

On the field, the Knights felt the energy surge through them.

Number 01 (@polo-drone-001), a compact dynamo of muscle and speed, his movements a blur of gold, bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes burning with intensity. He remembered his earlier touchdowns. He’d sliced through the Titans’ defense like a laser beam, leaving them grasping at air. His chiseled jaw was set, determination etched in every line of his face. He glanced at the sidelines, seeing the intense focus of his teammates, the fire in their eyes mirroring his own.

Number 09(@goldenherc9), the quarterback, a mountain of a man with broad shoulders and a steely gaze, surveyed the field. Sweat glistened on his skin, highlighting the powerful muscles coiled beneath. He barked out the play call, his voice resonating with authority. The holographic display above him flickered, showing the complex ballet of movement he’d orchestrated. He knew the Titans were formidable, but he also knew his team was ready.

Number 68(@roman-golden-68), tall and lean with arms like steel cables, recalled his incredible catch. He’d leaped over two defenders, his body twisting in mid-air, snatching the ball from seemingly nowhere. His eyes, focused and intense, were locked on the quarterback. He felt the weight of expectation, the pressure to perform, but he also knew he could deliver.

With ten seconds on the clock, the score tied at 49-49, 09 took the snap. The crowd held its breath. He fired a quick pass to 68, who, as planned, drew the attention of two Titans. But instead of holding onto the ball, 68 executed a perfect lateral pass.

“It’s a lateral! A risky play! The Knights are gambling everything!”

The ball spiraled through the air, landing perfectly in the hands of Number 69. He was a relatively new player, smaller than the others, but with an almost uncanny ability to anticipate the flow of the game. He took off, his movements fluid and precise. He dodged a tackle, his body twisting and turning, his gold uniform flashing under the stadium lights. Another Titan lunged, but 69 sidestepped him with an almost balletic grace.

“69! He’s got the ball! He’s at the 20, the 10, the 5…he’s going…going…GONG!”

The buzzer blared just as 69 crossed the goal line. He collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, a triumphant roar escaping his lips.

“Touchdown! Touchdown Golden Knights! 69 with the game-winning score! The Knights are the Super Bowl Champions!”

The stadium erupted in a cacophony of cheers. Gold and black confetti rained down, covering the field in a shimmering blanket. The Knights mobbed 69, their faces alight with joy and relief. They had faced a tough opponent, pushed themselves to their limits, and emerged victorious. It was a game that would be talked about for generations, a testament to the skill, athleticism, and sheer determination of the players. They had fought for gold, and they had earned it.

Join the Golden Army and you will DOMINATE too. Message @brodygold@polo-drone-001@goldenherc9 now!

[crochetnerdsworld]

In Handy (Alyssa Naeher/Reader)

Y/N is the smallest/shortest member of the USWNT. Her fiance, Alyssa Naeher, is much taller. This height difference comes in handy one day when Y/N gets hurt during a game and is not allowed to put any weight on her leg.

The October evening air in Miami was thick with humidity and tension. The international friendly between the United States and Colombia had turned into something far more intense than anyone had anticipated. What should have been a tune-up match before the upcoming World Cup qualifiers had devolved into a physical battle, with Colombian players throwing their bodies into every challenge as if their lives depended on it.

From her position between the goalposts, Alyssa Naeher surveyed the field with the practiced eye of someone who had seen it all. The scoreboard read 2-0 in favor of the US, but the numbers didn't tell the whole story. Yellow cards had been flying like confetti – she'd counted at least six in the last thirty minutes alone. The Colombian players were frustrated, desperate, and increasingly reckless.

"Ten minutes left!" she heard the fourth official call out to the benches.

Alyssa's eyes immediately found Y/N Y/L/N, her fiancé, who was positioned just outside the center circle. Even from this distance, she could see the determination etched on Y/N's face. At barely 5'2", Y/N was the smallest player on the USWNT roster, but what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in speed and technical skill. Alyssa had watched her weave through defenses that towered over her, using her low center of gravity and lightning-quick feet to embarrass players who underestimated her.

The ball came to Y/N's feet, and Alyssa felt her heart rate spike – not from nerves, but from pure admiration. This was her favorite part of any match: watching Y/N work her magic.

Y/N took her first touch and immediately accelerated, the ball seeming to stick to her feet as if magnetized. Two Colombian defenders converged on her, but she split them with a subtle shoulder drop and a quick change of direction that left them grasping at air.

"Go, baby, go," Alyssa whispered under her breath, her hands automatically positioning themselves even though the action was nowhere near her goal.

Y/N hit full stride now, her short legs moving so fast they were almost a blur. The Colombian defense was backpedaling frantically, trying to organize themselves as this tiny dynamo bore down on them. Alyssa could see the panic in their eyes – they had no answer for Y/N's pace.

As Y/N approached the penalty area, Mallory Swanson made a perfectly timed run to the far post, calling for the ball. It was a simple pass – Y/N had made it a thousand times in training and matches. Alyssa was already starting to celebrate in her mind when she saw him.

The Colombian center-back, number 4, came from Y/N's blind side like a missile. Her name was Vargas, Alyssa remembered from the pre-match briefing, and she'd already been booked in the first half for a late challenge on Alex Morgan. Her eyes weren't on the ball – they were fixed on Y/N's planted leg with predatory intent.

"No, no, NO!" Alyssa screamed, but her voice was lost in the roar of the crowd.

The tackle came in studs-up, catching Y/N just above the ankle as she was about to release the ball. The sound – a sickening combination of boot on bone and Y/N's scream of agony – cut through the stadium noise like a knife. The ball rolled harmlessly out of bounds as Y/N crumpled to the ground, clutching her leg.

The referee's whistle was immediate and sharp, but Alyssa was already moving. Goalkeepers weren't supposed to leave their area during active play, but the play was dead now, and nothing in the world could have kept her from getting to Y/N's side.

She ran harder than she had ever run, her long legs eating up the distance as teammates and officials scattered out of her way. Behind her, she could hear the chaos erupting – shouts in English and Spanish, the sound of bodies colliding as players from both teams converged on the scene.

Kelley O'Hara had reached Vargas first, her face twisted with rage as she shoved the Colombian defender hard in the chest.

"Are you kidding me?!" Kelley screamed, having to be held back by Rose Lavelle and Emily Sonnett. "That was her ankle, you piece of—"

"Kelley, back off!" Crystal Dunn barked, physically inserting herself between her teammate and the Colombian players who were starting to crowd around in support of their defender.

But Alyssa tuned it all out. Y/N was lying on her side about ten yards inside the penalty area, her face pale and contorted with pain as Mal knelt beside her, stroking her hair.

"Don't move, Y/N/N," Mal was saying, her voice carefully controlled. "The medics are coming. Just breathe, okay? Just breathe."

Alyssa dropped to her knees on Y/N's other side, immediately taking her fiancé's hand. Y/N's palm was clammy with shock, her grip weak but desperate.

"Hey there, love," Alyssa said, forcing her voice to remain calm and soothing despite the panic clawing at her chest. "You're going to be alright. Try not to move, yeah?"

Y/N's eyes found hers, and Alyssa's heart broke at the pain she saw there. But even now, even lying on the ground with what was clearly a serious injury, Y/N managed a weak smile.

"Don't think we're going to make our reservation tonight," she said through gritted teeth, referring to the romantic dinner Alyssa had planned at their favorite restaurant in South Beach.

"Yeah, probably not," Alyssa replied, bringing Y/N's hand to her lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Don't worry about a thing. Just focus on breathing."

The team medics arrived then, their equipment bags clattering as they set up around Y/N. Dr. Sarah Jenkins, the head team physician, took one look at the angle of Y/N's leg and immediately began barking orders to her assistants.

"I need the splint kit and the green whistle," she said, then turned to Alyssa and Mal. "I need you two to give me some space, but don't go far. Talk to her, keep her calm."

Alyssa reluctantly released Y/N's hand but stayed close enough to maintain eye contact. "Remember our first date?" she said, desperate to keep Y/N focused on something other than the pain. "You were so nervous you spilled pasta sauce all over that white dress."

Despite everything, Y/N let out a small laugh. "You... you paid for the dry cleaning," she managed.

"Best fifty dollars I ever spent," Alyssa replied. "Led to a second date, didn't it?"

The medics worked quickly and efficiently, stabilizing Y/N's leg with an inflatable splint before carefully transferring her to a stretcher. The damage was obvious even to Alyssa's untrained eye – the way Y/N's foot sat at an unnatural angle, the swelling that was already beginning to show through her sock.

As they began to wheel Y/N toward the tunnel, Alyssa found herself torn between every instinct she had. She wanted to follow, to climb into the ambulance and not leave Y/N's side until she knew exactly how bad it was. But the game was still going on, and she was the captain now with Becky Sauerbrunn having been subbed off earlier.

Y/N seemed to read her mind. "Finish the game, Alyssa," she said firmly, her voice stronger now thanks to the pain medication the medics had administered. "Win it for me."

Alyssa nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N's forehead. "I love you," she whispered.

"Love you too," Y/N whispered back. "Now go be brilliant."

As the stretcher disappeared into the tunnel, Alyssa took a deep breath and turned back to the field. The game had been stopped for nearly ten minutes, but there were still seven minutes left on the clock plus stoppage time. She had a job to do.

The Colombian team looked subdued now, the reality of what their teammate had done settling in. Vargas had been shown a straight red card and was already walking toward the tunnel, head down in shame. But Alyssa knew that wouldn't help Y/N's ankle heal any faster.

She rejoined her teammates as they prepared for the restart, accepting pats on the back and words of support from players on both sides. But her mind was already divided – half focused on finishing the match professionally, half counting down the minutes until she could get to the hospital.

The remaining time passed in a blur. Colombia, down to ten and thoroughly deflated by the sending off, barely threatened. When the final whistle blew, Alyssa was the first player off the field, not bothering with the traditional handshakes as she sprinted toward the tunnel.

The Next Morning

The soft morning light filtering through the hotel room curtains did nothing to improve Y/N's mood as she stared down at the black walking boot that now encased her left leg from ankle to mid-calf. The diagnosis had been confirmed in the early hours of the morning: a clean break of the fibula that would require six to eight weeks in the boot, followed by extensive rehab.

"Six to eight weeks," she muttered for what felt like the hundredth time. "Right in the middle of World Cup prep."

Alyssa emerged from the bathroom, already dressed for the day in her team tracksuit. She'd barely slept, spending most of the night watching Y/N sleep fitfully, startling awake every time her fiancé shifted positions.

"The team doctor said it could have been much worse," Alyssa said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. "If Vargas had caught you higher up, or if you'd planted differently—"

"I know," Y/N interrupted with a sigh. "I know. It's just... this was supposed to be my World Cup, you know? First time as a starter, finally getting my chance to prove I belong at this level."

Alyssa's heart ached for her. Y/N had fought for years to earn her spot on the roster, constantly having to prove that her size wasn't a limitation. She'd finally broken through, earning consistent starts in the midfield alongside players like Rose and Andi Sullivan. Now that opportunity was gone, at least for the immediate future.

"Hey," Alyssa said, taking Y/N's face in her hands. "This isn't over. You'll heal, you'll come back stronger, and there will be other tournaments. Other World Cups."

Y/N nodded, but Alyssa could see the disappointment still etched in her features. "Right now, though, I can't even go to the bathroom without help."

As if to prove her point, there was a knock at the door followed by Kelley's voice. "Room service! Hope you're decent in there!"

Alyssa opened the door to find not just Kelley, but Alex Morgan, Christen Press, and Tobin Heath as well, all carrying various breakfast items and wearing matching expressions of concern.

"How's our patient this morning?" Alex asked, setting down a tray of coffee and pastries.

"Grumpy," Y/N replied from the bed. "And hungry. And tired of being horizontal."

"Well, we can fix at least two of those problems," Christen said with a smile. "Team breakfast downstairs in twenty. You coming?"

Y/N looked at the crutches leaning against the nightstand, then at her boot, then back at her teammates with a frustrated expression. "I guess I'll hobble down there eventually."

"Oh no you won't," Alyssa said firmly, moving toward the bed with obvious intent.

"Alyssa, no," Y/N protested, but she was already being scooped up in her fiancé's arms, the height difference that she usually complained about now working decidedly in her favor. "I can use the crutches. That's what they're for."

"The crutches can stay here," Alyssa replied, adjusting her grip to make sure Y/N was secure. "This is easier."

Kelley grinned as they made their way to the elevator. "I see you've got yourself a chariot there, Y/N/N."

"Oh yeah," Y/N replied, settling into Alyssa's arms with resigned acceptance. "She won't even let me use my crutches to go to the bathroom."

"TMI!" Tobin called out with a laugh.

"Yeah well, you're short as hell," Kelley added with characteristic bluntness. "It's coming in handy now, though. Alyssa probably couldn't carry Alex around like this."

"Hey!" Alex protested. "I'm not that much taller!"

"Shut it, O'Hara," Y/N shot back, though there was no real heat in it. "You've got three inches on me. Also, I'm crippled. Be nice to me."

Kelley clutched her chest dramatically as the elevator doors opened to the lobby. "Fine. Only because I love you so much, and because you're temporarily vertically challenged instead of just permanently vertically challenged."

The group laughed as they made their way to the hotel restaurant, drawing curious looks from other guests who probably weren't used to seeing a goalkeeper carrying her teammate around like she weighed nothing.

At breakfast, Alyssa carefully deposited Y/N in a chair at their usual table before heading to the buffet. The conversation flowed naturally around topics of training schedules, upcoming matches, and general team gossip, but Alyssa noticed how Y/N kept glancing toward the crutches that Christen had brought down for her.

"You know," Y/N said as Alyssa returned with two plates of food, "I really can manage with the crutches. You don't have to carry me everywhere."

"I know I don't have to," Alyssa replied, cutting up Y/N's pancakes without being asked. "I want to."

"But what about when we get home? You can't carry me around Chicago for six weeks."

"Watch me," Alyssa said with a grin.

"She's got a point though," Alex chimed in. "Y/N needs to maintain some independence. The crutches are there for a reason."

But even as the conversation continued around the table, Y/N found herself leaning into Alyssa's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being taken care of. Being the smallest player on the team meant she was used to being looked after to some degree, but this was different. This was love in its purest form – someone willing to literally carry your burdens when you couldn't manage them yourself.

After breakfast, as they prepared to head back upstairs so Y/N could rest before the team's departure, she made one more halfhearted protest about using the crutches.

"Alyssa, seriously, people are staring. I can walk."

"People can stare all they want," Alyssa replied, scooping her up again with practiced ease. "And technically, you can hop. But why would you want to when you have me?"

Y/N sighed and wrapped her arms around Alyssa's neck, resigned to her fate. "You realize you're going to spoil me completely, right? When this boot comes off, I'm going to expect to be carried everywhere."

"I can live with that," Alyssa said, pressing a kiss to Y/N's temple as they waited for the elevator. "Besides, your short legs were always more of a feature than a bug. Now they're just a very practical feature."

As the elevator doors closed and they headed back to their room, Y/N couldn't help but smile despite her frustration with the injury. Being carried around wasn't exactly how she'd planned to spend the next few weeks, but if she had to be temporarily immobilized, she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather have doing the carrying.

"You know what?" she said as Alyssa gently deposited her back on the bed.

"What's that?"

"I think I'm going to get used to this chariot service pretty quickly."

Alyssa grinned and handed her the TV remote. "Good, because the position is permanent. Now, what do you want to watch while I pack our stuff?"

And as Y/N settled back against the pillows, her injured leg elevated and her fiancé bustling around the room taking care of everything, she realized that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. The World Cup would have to wait, but she had something even better right here.

[dailyoverview]

Downtown Houston is the largest central business district in the US state of Texas, spanning 1.84 square miles (4.8 sq. km). Home to nine Fortune 500 companies, it contains 50 million square feet (4.6 million sq. m) of office space and is the workplace of 150,000 employees. In addition to most of Houston’s skyscrapers, this Overview features Minute Maid Park, home of the Astros (MLB); Shell Energy Stadium, home of the Dynamo (MLS); and Toyota Center, home of the Rockets (NBA).

29.756334°, -95.364037°

Source imagery: Nearmap

[muzantropic]

Москва. Стадион ''Динамо'' Moscow. Dynamo Stadium Юлия Разумовская, 1952

[captain-price-unofficially]

German prisoners of war clean the field at the Dynamo Moscow stadium during football match break, 1945

[yaoist]

"Unlike other political leaders and police chiefs, Beria was a fanatical soccer supporter. [...] When he became honorary president of Dynamo, Beria began to attend virtually every Moscow Dynamo home game."

when Dynamo Tbilisi lost to Spartak on a close referee call in 1939 and then went onto the final, Beria ordered the semifinal match against Tbilisi, which had been 1-0 to be replayed. The referee got arrested and when they tried to find another referee everyone fucking refused so they had to straight up order someone to referee the game. Which Tbilisi then lost again

Spartak won a closely fought match 3-2 and, according to Starostin, 'When I glanced up at the dignitaries' box, I saw Beria get up, furiously kick over his chair and storm out of the stadium'.

Starostin was arrested with his brothers in 1942

[hiboudecheshire]

The Game of Thrones in red and white: Karpin and Emery in Spartak (part 1)

When I was looking through Oleg Semenov's tweets about Emery in Spartak (you can find the main post in my tmblr), I noticed one that surprised me a lot. This tweet was written 7 Oct 2012, just after the match against CSKA that was lost 0:2 in Luzhniki.

"Reaction of substitued players shows that Emery doesn't have authority among the #spartak team. Valera [Karpin] - aka Boris Godunov?"

This reminiscence can not be understood without knowing some episodes of Russian history. Boris Godunov (1552 - 1605) was the first advisor and favorite of Tsar Fedor Ivanovich (son of Ivan IV nicknamed Terrible). Fedor didn't have children, so the heir of the Russian throne was his younger brother Dmitry, who suddenly and misteriously died in 1591, just in the age of 9. Godunov headed the investigation, and the official version of boy's death was "tragic accident". There were many rumors about Godunov's involvement in Dmitry's death, but the stateman never was accused and no proofs were manifested against him. After death of Fedor in 1598 Godunov was "called to rule" by Moscovian nobility and became Tsar himself. This story was also incarnated in Alexander Pushkin's tragedy "Boris Godunov", quite popular in Russia end even studied in schools. So why Oleg Semenov chose this comparison to describe the situation in Spartak? And what was the role of Valery Karpin in Emery's downfall?

So let's go back to 2008, when Karpin returned to Spartak (he also played for the club in 90s and was one of the stars in the team, but then went to Spain and played for Real Sociedad, Valencia and Selta) to become Director General. What did he do first? Fired the coach Stanislav Cherchesov because of poor game of the team and painful defeat 1-4 in the match with Dynamo Kiyv (I was there, believe me it was a pitiful sight). Karpin invited Michael Laudrup who became manager of Spartak in September 2008.

Laudrup also didn't last long. According to "bad results" he was fired in April 2009. I don't remember details of this story, there was not any scandal, Laudrup left Spartak calmly and even shamefacedly. In 2014 Laudrup said about his dismissal:

"Going to Russia was a mistake in a global sense. I didn't know the culture of this country. When I was told I was fired, I was sitting in the car. I said, "Okay then"".

[turns and looks at the camera] Doesn't it remind you of something?..

After that, something unexpected happened. Karpin said that he would become a temporary manager himself - and just as we know, there's nothing more permanent than temporary. Karpin didn't even have special licence and obtained it only 6 months after. But in his first season Spartak ended in 2nd place in the league, so when Karpin was announced to be an "official" manager of the team, nobody was against it. Main owner of the club, Leonid Fedun, trusted him; Spartak fans loved him, because he was "true Spartak man", living reminder of glorious 90s, when the club became Russian champion 9 times in 10 years. Also Karpin had influence among journalists and, what is more important, among "Spartak veterans" - community of ex-players and functionaries of the club who also carry weight in the press and among the fans. When the season 2011\2012 started poorly and Spartak was in last place in the league, Karpin was about to resign. But the players stood up for him and even put on T-shirts with his photo and title "We are together":

Fedun said then that players asked him not to fire Karpin and he agreed (although he was already looking for a new manager for the team). Fans also supported Karpin, they even wrote a song "Don't give up Spartak, Valery Georgievich" and chanted his name on the stadium.

Then he stayed until the end of the season. Spartak also ended in 2nd place and it was surprisingly for many people, even for players. What says the goalkeeper Artem Rebrov:

"When Unai went to Spartak, I was sad. The Spaniard had nothing to do with it: I was worried about Karpin leaving. You remember how cool we finished in the spring of 2012 and got into the Champions League? No one expected that, so we agreed with Emery in advance, and Karpin was left only as the general director. I think Valera himself did not particularly believe in such a successful finish. And after the victories over Zenit in St. Petersburg and over Lokomotiv in the last round, it was felt that he was upset too. Unfortunately, it was impossible to cancel the agreements. Emery became the manager, Karpin – the general director. That was it – we had to accept it and move on".

What else can be added to the portrait of Karpin before I start to describe events of summer and autumn 2012? He became famous for his stylish outfits and for being outright, harsh and sometimes even rude with journalists; but they kinda liked it, because he provided clickbait headlines at every press-conference. He also had a reputation of the man who knows how to motivate the team, and I can say he is quite good in manipulative things. The most eloquent example of this: the episode after the match lost to Portu 1-5 in Luzhniki. Karpin went to furious fans to talk, and it took him about 10 minutes to make them scream "Valera, we believe in you", instead of "Valera, come here, we want to punch you in the face". This scene became a meme in Russian football community, so pity I can't translate the whole atmosphere of this dialogue:

So that was the man who was forced to give up the manager's post, I guess, because of some agreement with Fedun. Nowadays Karpin says that it was his initiative to resign and to invite Emery - but there is another version outlined in the book "El Maestro": it was not Karpin but sport director of Spartak Dmitry Popov who found Emery and persuaded him to go to Russia. Who are we supposed to believe? Like in the case of Boris Godunov, no one knows exactly. But the fact remains the fact - in June 2012 Unai Emery came to Moscow to be introduced as a new manager of Spartak.

(One more detail: do you know that Unai and Valery both played for Real Sociedad in 1996? But I don't know if they appeared on the field together - I think not, Emery was mostly spare in the team)

…to be continued…

[thelittlepingu]

⋞ The courage and a detail. }] く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

Splatoon Manga/Coroika x Isekai? Reader

⋞ In the look of it you are.. struggling

19-Jan-2024 <-!!

[{ wooo never thought it's going to be like this!, but what is going to happen? Who knows, then let us seek what we are thriving.. our journey }]

The Nevermore has Spoken: why is it not enough? That a glimpse of light burns down the memory like Ash, and it's not enough.

[{Reader will be called [{Redacted}]/Familiar in this and Will be using They/Them pronounce just for Everyone to enjoy in every Page,this will keep going in the future page}]

<<Chapter 2 [{you here}] <- [{previous chapter}] Chapter 2.5 ->

Training time was over.. and it's about the right time.. The Blue team is probably already meeting the orange team.. probably.. you can't be sure but you can guess this is already chapter 2..

First thing first, Blue team lost to another inkling team, Goggles of course getting beat up by Rider Dynamo and him scolding? Goggles about how he lost to another inkling team but he beat Rider in the first round.. and bla bla bla it goes on, I'm not explaining that.. you already know the story. (You are talking to yourself)

Then the blue team faced again with the S4 which is ^The Army team^, though they didn't think they were going to face the S4 again.. and the list goes on, you wonder if you are late for the Show, you just can't wait to watch the Turf war up close..

. . .

In about a few hours you finally made it, the place is big.. and you are right on time it's not even started yet but there's a bunch of inkling, but hey you right on time you said!! wooh!! Good job yourself!, you then try to look for places to sit...

' Seems That is a good place, a place that is quite quiet, you are able to hear what is going on clearly there. '

Without a word or so you claim That seat.. in about a minute the game is about to start.. you are trying to watch but of course this is like a stadium, a lot of fans is Excited.. you don't blame them it's of course the S4, S4 is famous so yeah.. you are like S4 but not in obsessed type...

You know that they have their boundaries and you have yours too so even if you are well.. fan of them you just don't want to nag them and make them feel unsafe or discomfort

. . .

Ah seems the show is starting..

. . .

" We Are The Army. "

Even in the distance you can still know what he will be saying... Thank god you already read Coroika..

" These Guys have The worst luck... "

. . .

That damn line.. ah.. it seems Rider is sitting Beside you.. oh unfortunate, you wanted to say hi so bad.. but unfortunately too bad you can't, you wanted this line of story to go well you don't want to ruin it with your urge of desperation wanting to having chit and chat with him

' hah.. '

You can only sigh.. but then again the show is already starting, you hear the voice in the speaker.. it's Callie and Marie..

" Alright Let's Get The show on the road! "

" In turf war, who ink more than the opposite team using their Weapon will win! " " We shall be commentating! "

" On This Stage The team who reaches the upper ground first will be at an advantage! "

" The Stage is also a housing complex so there are jellyfish living hire! "

" Ready... GO! "

As it's seen.. the blue team inkling their base first... their practice is good but they are not that good.. it's not good enough in your opinion, they will eventually get splat with orange team weapons.. for now no matter what they do is useless... They have no chance of escape..

Ah... It does Look cool up close, in the Manga and here it's a lot different than you thought.. you shouldn't judge their Game too soon.. Their move.. tactics.. and all of them.. it just seems a little different than the book just the difference is you seeing this in your own eyes...

' huh.. as Cloak says, Orange team depends on their actions on Their Manual which is a lot.. so no matter what you do you are going to be dead meat, but.. if you maybe use something that inkling never uses in battle such as unpredictable move you have a chance to wipe their team.. it's their weakness... One and only. '

" it's not good enough. "

You hear what Rider is saying.. it's really true their straight is not good enough their tactics are not good enough, move and all of their doing..

Fail..

Fail... again..

But Unless if Goggles already goes into the apartment of where the jelly fish living and...

. . .

Ah.. you guessed it too soon..

Seems he is already there.. in the look of it Army is starting to sweat.. they are panicking, trying to look in the manual.. it's useless. There's no thing as Eating curry in the Game..

you stand up taking your leave.. you already know what happened and you don't need to know it..

. . .

It seems that Rider takes notice of you leaving..

. . .

Walking in the Inkpolist.. wasn't the best than you thought.. you are bored too bored.. but to be honest do you ever go turf war.. no you don't, now you have that in mind you wanted to try it

. . .

' The game took place of 4 vs 4 players, each team goal is the same.. whoever ink more win, use your weapon to ink and fight.. '

Hah.. you going to have fun

Standing beside a random player, you are the most excited one.. who wants to try this Turf war more than most of them...

About 5 rounds of playing.. you are exhausted.. but your spirit is on fire.. you wanted to play again but you feet are giving off not wanting to do it because it's too exhausted, your rando Team Compliment you on the game.. of how much you are so strong and fast or having those sick move

You feel like you are going to burst out because The amount of the compliment they gave you, you surely miss this even if it's not a game but in manga but it does still the same as the game.

. . .

It's getting late than you thought.. you should take a sleep...but Wait where are you sleeping, you don't have anywhere to sleep.. a house would be nice.. yeah nice... you just have to find a who Rent House around hire..

Eventually you find one that doesn't charge you too much of cash.. but still it's nice it already has furniture.. but your eyes just seek for bed..

And it's late you should go to sleep and probably sees the Game again tomorrow.. this day The Team Army Loose to the Blue team.. Army a inkling who pride himself huh...

. . .

Wait.

Is he an inkling or an Octoling?? You seem to see his ear round a bit.. he could be an Octoling.. Ah whatever you needed your sleep.

. . .

he is one...

[{ To Be Continued }] く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

<<Chapter 2 [{you here}] <- [{previous chapter}] Chapter 2.5 ->

[vladivostok-yura15cbx]

Владивосток - центр №1. звуки города

Vladivostok - City center № 1 - sounds of the city and wind. Vladivostok is a very windy city Дальневосточная республика - Far Eastern Republic

Svetlanskaya st. 133. 00:00:15,17 Dalzavod stop 00:04:29,14 Circus stop 00:07:37,624 DVGTU stop 00:11:52,245 Laz stop 00:16:57,316 GUM 00:22:19,138 GUM Old Yard 00:23:29,508 Central square 00:25:23,689 Arsenyev Museum 00:28:58,237 Semenovskaya square 00:32:55,841 Fokina square 00:40:45,276 Semenovskaya square 00:44:37,108 ul. Fokina 00:47:43,961 Pogranichnaya St. 00:57:28,745 FEFU Dormitory 01:05:07,804 Former FEFU Humanities Building 01:06:02,025 Blood Transfusion Station and Reading Room of the Medical University Library 01:08:07,750 Pogranichnaya St. 01:10:54,984 Old Oceanarium 01:17:17,933 Sportivnaya Gavan Embankment 01:17:44,160 Dynamo Stadium 01:18:00,176 Fokina St. 01:26:05,193 Five o'clock. 01:26:54,776 Fokina St. Aleutskaya 01:27:51,299 Central Square 01:29:29,331 Bolshoy GUM 01:33:21,162 Glavpochtamp 01:33:56,331 Small GUM 01:34:12,480 Laz stop 01:34:34,969 DVGTU stop 01:37:09,524 Circus 01:38:01,442 Circus stop 01:38:25,099 Svetlanskaya st. 133. 01:39:57,358 Avangard stop 01:40:28,489 Gaydamak 01:41:34,822 Lugovaya Square 01:42:36,517 st. Sports 01:43:10.251 Churkin, st. Vilkova 01:44:03,604 Churkin, st. Zaporozhskaya 01:45:05,299 st. Tereshkova 01:46:35,856 st. Burachka 01:47:21,702

https://t.me/Yuriy_Karetin - me https://t.me/Still_video - my Still video channel, inc. cellular automata https://t.me/addlist/zXtcpwROQI4wNTIy - my channels https://youtu.be/8fkBtBK4MS4 https://t.me/Still_video/82

[coochiequeens]

Uproar in football stadiums: There can't be two genders

24th matchday, FC Ingolstadt vs. Dynamo Dresden: Banner in the Dresden fan block "THERE IS ONLY ONE RIDICULOUS DFB... AND TWO GENDER".

A fan poster claims there are only two genders. The DFB sports court punishes this. Now mass protests are breaking out in stadiums. Is a super-woker DFB embarrassing itself? Are football fans queer deniers? Is the over-political DFB president making a mistake once again? Or is the gender debate simply reaching a new dimension?

The scandal began as a real satire. The German Football Association's sports court has imposed a fine on Bundesliga club Bayer Leverkusen because fans there claimed that there were only two genders. The DFB is the world's largest sports association, Bayer Leverkusen is top of the Bundesliga and on the way to the championship - the stage for the gender criminal court could hardly be bigger. The club has to pay a total of 18,000 euros “because of discriminatory, unsportsmanlike behavior on the part of its supporters”. Fans held up a banner at the game against Werder Bremen that read: “There are many styles of music, but only two genders.”

The incriminated banner triggered a rather cheerful discourse between harmless rival fan groups from Werder Bremen and Bayer Leverkusen. Bayer Ultras had described themselves as the supposedly cool "Raverkusen" in a choreography in the game against Freiburg, whereupon the Werder fans countered the Leverkusen team as music philistines in the subsequent game with a "Beer King ≠ Techno Club" banner. They responded with the now scandalized Bayer banner “There are many styles of music.” With the reference to the "but only 2 genders", the Rhinelanders probably wanted to make fun of the left-wing orientation of the Bremen Ultras after they had mocked their own taste in music. Such fan teasing is normally part of the rich, coarse and universally laughed-at part of German football culture.

But the fact that the DFB is now trying to publicly punish the Leverkusen fans as inhumane gender deniers is causing a lot of football fans to shake their heads and feel indignant. To justify its punitive action, the DFB wrote on From federal politics, the Green Party's sports spokeswoman, Tina Winklmann, immediately supported the DFB, saying the poster was "inhumane and discriminatory."

Discussion about DFB leadership breaks out

Many fans see it differently and simply do not want to be banned from the idea that there are two genders. The DFB's punitive action is therefore triggering a wave of similar sanctioning actions in other stadiums. Dynamo Dresden supporters displayed a giant banner that read: "There is only one ridiculous DFB... and two genders!" The DFB now also wants to take action against this with penalties. In Braunschweig, fans made a giant banner with the inscription “Dear Sir or Madam, Period.” In Cottbus you could read meters high: "There are only 2 genders - both despise the DFB". In Chemnitz they read in giant letters: "There are only two genders, even a blind person can see that! DFB fan shop: men, women, babies and children". The fans were referring to the two-gender DFB shop.

Now the DFB should actually punish all possible clubs and fan groups, because new “two-gender” posters are added every weekend. But behind the scenes there is also a discussion about the DFB and its leadership.

Some criticize that the DFB is putting unnecessary additional strain on the already heated relationship between the DFB, DFL and fans because of the planned investor entry into the DFL. Others criticize the DFB, which is becoming increasingly left-wing politicized and demonstratively “woke” under its president Bernd Neuendorf. The long-time SPD professional politician Neuendorf works closely with the SPD Interior Minister Nancy Faeser in his positioning for demonstrative diversity. Joint party membership sometimes leads to over-political actions, as was the case at the World Cup in Qatar, when the two staged the one-love prank.

The appointment of Andreas Rettig (liked to be called "Antifa-Andi" in the scene) as the football association's new sports director is also seen as a demonstrative signal for activist association management. In November 2022 he appeared as spokesman for the SPD and gave a lecture in Bochum on the topic of “The social responsibility of professional football”. One of the oddities of the DFB's politicization is that the Hamburg communications agency BrinkertLück was hired under Neuendorf. She was in charge of the SPD chancellor election campaign for Olaf Scholz, and today BrinkertLück is the “lead agency for the DFB product world”.

Freedom of expression and biologists' resistance

The two-gender scandal is attracting attention beyond the football scene because it is an example of where the boundaries of what can be said lie in the diversity debate. The DFB penalty decision acts like a political correctness edge in the gender culture war currently taking place. The fact that, in addition to biological sex, social gender identity should also be respected and tolerated is widely undisputed, even among football fans. Since 2018, in German civil status law, gender entry has been possible in addition to male and female.

The great resistance to the DFB language police is explained less by the lack of tolerance towards queer footballers and more by the question of what one is allowed to say in public and what is not. If the sentence "There are two genders" is really criminalized and publicly stigmatized, then the deep freedom reflexes of the open society will be violated. Because the gender debate, like all other debates, is subject to the constitutionally protected freedom of expression.

Germany's most prominent biologist, the Nobel Prize winner Christiane Nüsslein-Volhard, even vehemently advocates the principle of two genders: "Of course there is a spectrum when it comes to gender, the social sex, while when it comes to biological sex there is only female or male. Over. End." The Federal Government's Queer Commissioner, Sven Lehmann, however, claims: The view that there are two genders is unscientific. There are many genders. The Nobel Prize winner responded to this in an "Emma" interview : "That's unscientific! Mr. Lehmann may have missed the basic course in biology." And further: "It is completely clear that transsexuals should not be discriminated against. If people are treated badly, that is bad. But they cannot impose their ideas on everyone as facts." If the Nobel Prize winner were to say something like that in the football stadium, the DFB would fine her.

Translated into English by google

[dreamseatcustomlogofurniture]

Houston Dynamo - Shell Energy Stadium - DreamSeat (Drone Footage)

[baddawgsports]

Curacao's Late Equalzier Shares Points with Canada

The second group stage match for Canada was being played at the home of the Houston Dynamo at Shell Energy Stadium in Houston, Texas, as they took on Caribbean side Curacao. After their humongous victory over Honduras, this one in particular wasn’t so glorious. The final score was a one all draw. In the ninth minute, Jacob Schaffelburg was fouled near the edge of the Curacao endline, as Canada…