Was at Ballbreaker yesterday to celebrate Gustaf who turned 28.
Yes. He’s a very, very old man now. And yes, I’ll keep saying so for about one more month.
Anyway, what was really important about this evening wasn’t the splendid home-cooked lasagna (I’m surprised, Gustaf!), amazingly nice company or all the laughter’s that accompanied the night all the way to the very latest hours.
No, what was really important was what happened in the beginning when we were still at Ballbreaker’s.
That with my first touch, on my first try, with the very first throw of the evening, I hit an astonishingly beautiful strike.
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