Gunning for greatness pdf download

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WebGunning for Greatness Ozil-PDFConverted - Free ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read book online for free. Scribd is the world's largest social reading WebDownload Gunning for Greatness: My Life: With the introduction of Jose Mourinho or any other file from the Book category. HTTP also available at fast speeds. Download the WebApr 20,  · PDF EPUB Download in Sports & Recreation Mesut Özil Gunning for Greatness: My Life With an introduction by Jose Mourinho Author: Mesut Web[PDF] Download Gunning for Greatness: My Life: With an introduction by Jose Mourinho *Read Online* cerita malam Maret 25, Tidak ada komentar Click image or button WebMay 12,  · Ebook Download Gunning For Greatness: My Life: With An Introduction By Jose Mourinho By Mesut Ozil Have you listened to that analysis can promote the brain to ... read more

Did you hear? Mourhino wants me in his team! I felt like a Hollywood star. And now I was checking in at a separate terminal in Mallorca. Without any queues. Without having to wait to hand over my luggage. Until this August day in that world had been closed to me. His tie sat accurately in the middle. I barely remember anything more as my mind was focused on José Mourinho, who I was about to meet in person for the first time. The man under whom Chelsea had won the Premier League and FA Cup. The man who, with Inter Milan, had cleaned up every national and international honour going. As soon as he entered the room I immediately caught sight of the Real Madrid logo on the tracksuit that Mourinho seemed to be wearing with great pride. That golden crown. Those strong colours. Images started flashing in my mind. But then reality caught up with me. I wrenched myself from my dreams, from that unreal world. Perhaps this legendary team was still too big for me? From Werder Bremen to Real Madrid?

From a good Bundesliga side to the greatest club in the world? Who was I, anyway? In comparison to the Real stars, a nobody. A nobody on the great international footballing stage. And, of course, I confront the issue of failure too. It would be reckless not to. These days ten good games are very quickly forgotten. Then you start back at square one. Would I actually get a real opportunity at Real Madrid? This question refused to stop plaguing me. Train hard. Then play. Real Madrid is the only right move. Trust me. And then all the doors will be open to you. He gave me a good feeling, exactly what I needed to summon the courage for such a change. After our discussion we all went to the Estadio Santiago Bernabéu, and Valdano took me through the sacred halls of Los Blancos.

Past all the trophies that Real had won during its long history. Shining cups polished to a mirror finish; I could see my reflection in them. A magical sight. So alluring. With a clear message: welcome to a victorious club! A club of champions. Guaranteed trophy-winners. From the corner of my eye I could see the Real bosses watching me. The trophies were glittering and I was beaming. When I visited Barcelona shortly afterwards, all that was missing. No display of their victories, which had given me goose bumps in Madrid. The entire visit was less cordial, although I was inspired by their style of play. Or at least that was my preference. At the time no team in the world played better football. It was a real pleasure to watch the magic of their combination play. But I was puzzled by the absence of Pep Guardiola. Not even a text message.

He gave no signal that he wanted me. And so my enthusiasm for Barcelona steadily declined. These are the five doors you can go through. Classic, just like at school. But the single point that I jotted down on the con side was enough to eliminate Barça as a potential future club for me. Am I his man? But also because Mourinho was fighting so hard to get me. Was so convincing. So warm. So keen. He was the complete opposite of the Barcelona coach. So I plumped for José Mourinho and Real Madrid. For the man who at this very moment is tearing strips off me. Ten minutes of the half-time break are over. He ought to shut his trap. Do you know what it looks like when you tackle?

Let me show you. He gets more and more fixated. His heart rate is probably My southern temperament is overwhelming me. Put it on. Off you go. To crawl under a nice, warm shower? Shampoo your hair? Be on your own? I want him to stop. To leave me in peace finally. Sob away! Go and take a shower. Instead he lobs one final provocation in my direction. Those last words of his are like a stab to the heart. He knows how much I admire that player. He knows the Frenchman is the only footballer I truly look up to. The team is back on the pitch. Kaká has been brought on for me. The black digits of my number 10 shimmer beneath his own shirt. Pepe and Ronaldo both score in the second half to make it 5—1 against Deportivo, while I stand in the shower, lost in thought. What has happened here? Why did Mourinho, this great manager, make me look such a fool?

What was he trying to tell me? That evening, on 30 September , just before 9 p. The argument was on my mind for weeks. Who was I? And where did I want to go? To answer these questions I began to look back on my life. Ever since I can remember, the light switch above the banister has been broken. Like so much in this building on Bornstrasse in the Bulmke-Hüllen district of Gelsenkirchen — my home. For example, the front door is so warped that we children, at least, have to launch our whole bodyweight against the thing to open it. Each time the metal strip at the bottom scrapes the floor, which is now full of scratches. The grey metal letterboxes are battered. Someone probably nicked the numbers at some point. Or, after decades of being exposed to the wind and rain, they just fell off and nobody bothered to put them up again.

At any rate someone has sprayed 30 — our house number — in green on the white façade. I want to go down into the cellar to get my bike. None of us children dares enter this spooky place alone. The stench is so bad you need to hold your breath, then go down and back up as quickly as you can. And my bike is like gold to me. My parents had to work very hard and save up for ages to buy the bike. Only when my elder brother, Mutlu, accompanies us do we dare enter that cellar. I live with my family on the fourth floor of the house, right at the top. My sisters Nese and Dugyu share a bedroom. I sleep with my brother Mutlu in another.

But in fact I like our flat. In spite of the scary cellar. My parents have tried to make it look as nice as possible. Some of the other children live in unbelievably nice places; they have smart detached houses with their own garden. The first is from 7 a. to 10 p. Although I never hear her complain, I can see how exhausted she is. Sometimes, when she thinks no one is looking, she holds her overworked back, arches it and has a good stretch. She cleans and cleans and cleans. Mum has no time for hobbies. My grandparents took my mother out of school after the ninth year. After that she had to work to earn money for the family. Neither my grandparents nor parents could afford the luxury of a good education, and we children suffered from the shortage of money too. When I came home from school I was responsible for looking after myself. My father had to struggle for every cent too. To begin with he worked in a leather factory.

Then he ran a tea-room for a while, and later a kiosk. After that he opened a billiard hall before going to work at the Opel factory. Time and again he reinvented himself to give his family a good life. He was unemployed several times between jobs, but he always fought to get back into working life. A total of ten families lived in our house. Nine of them came from abroad. In the whole of Bornstrasse there were practically no Germans. Until I was four I spoke nothing but Turkish. At home we always spoke it anyway. The Lebanese kids we played football with on the rec integrated with us Turks — we were in the majority — and learned our language too.

Before going to school I spent a year in pre-school, which is supposed to facilitate the transition from kindergarten to primary school. But first and foremost it helps those children who are not ready for school proper. Ninety-nine per cent of the pupils there were foreigners. And although we were taught in German in the classroom, nobody of course spoke it at break time in the playground or on the way home. Which means I almost never had to speak German. Except when the teacher asked me to. The four hours of German I had during a school day were counterbalanced by three times as many in Turkish. Besides, this German sounded so funny, so coarse, so harsh. The inflection and intonation were very different from Turkish. I was also confused by the fact that certain letters were pronounced differently. For a long time I wrote my compositions without any punctuation. When my work came back corrected I always felt frustrated — red circles everywhere, so many words underlined and endless marks in the margin referring to my mistakes.

It took me ages to work out what articles were. Only much later did I come to know whether the German word for dog was masculine, feminine or neuter. Having to pick up a book and read out loud to the class was pure torture. I found books really hard going. For now I know how essential education is. And not only that. You have to study. You have to throw yourself into it. Explain how much fun student life can be. But Erkut can. He worked his way up from a very modest background, studied law and is now a renowned lawyer. If he tries to persuade Dugyu it will have far more weight than if I just blather on. The one they use to chat to friends and neighbours. The one they can best express themselves in. But most of all Turkish was the language of their parents. They themselves grew up with Turkish. Both of my grandfathers came to Germany in the mid- s. They worked for little money, and only when they were needed.

Back then employment was hard to come by, especially in the more rural areas. When Germany sent out an appeal for guest workers and concluded an agreement with Turkey, by which several hundred thousand Turks were authorised to come over, my grandfathers too were enticed by the promise of a better life. Land of work. Land of riches. Land of improvement. The Germans wanted my grandfathers and so they embarked on the journey into the unknown, leaving their wives and children behind, which was terribly hard for them. Work, save money, come back rich — that was the plan. How to be a worker in Germany was the title of the brochure published by the Turkish authorities. Strictly observe the regulations of your workplace. Arrive punctually. Never take days off sick unless it is absolutely unavoidable. They worked conscientiously. Without complaining. They did contract work, often with colds and backaches. For the family and the dream of a better life.

To understand instructions within the business there were interpreters who explained the tasks to them. My grandfathers never saw the need to invest in a language course themselves. For them what was most important was to earn money for a better life in Turkey and not spend any of it. Later both grandfathers sent for their wives. And the wives brought their children: my mother and my father, who was two at the time. My grandparents missed the sound of the sea outside their front door, the beaches of Kapuz and Uzunkum, their walks to the stalactite caves of Gökgöl Mağararsi. The screeching of the gulls. Fresh fish that my grandfather caught himself from the harbour wall. They missed their old friends.

Their familiar life. But the security that their hard- earned marks offered was more important than giving in to their yearning. So my grandparents remained in Germany with their children. And when my father and mother were old enough they married each other, as my grandfathers had once arranged. They were designated for each other as was the tradition back then. Having said that, it seemed to me that my parents were always very loving and intimate with each other. My mother and father had each other and their parents. They had Turkish friends and Turkish neighbours. Whenever they went out, they were with Turks. And so they needed almost no German to get by. I think it was down to a lack of knowledge back then that lots of families made the mistake of not teaching their children the language of the host country properly from the start. Instead, at every hurdle I got stuck or lost my step.

Make use of the opportunity to learn the language. Try to make friends with people from that country. Pay attention to your surroundings. And most of all: read! Nazan Eckes, the television presenter, wrote a book about her experiences as a woman born in Germany with Turkish roots. How often in my young life have I been asked what I am. Or German? Do I feel more Turkish? Or do I have more German characteristics? I met Fabian, my first German friend, when I was about seven and playing for Westfalia. He played mainly in goal and was captain of the team. I consider myself fortunate to be able to adopt the best from both German and Turkish cultures. Later on, however, in my mid-twenties, I did enjoy a classic Christmas with all the trimmings for the sake of my then girlfriend, Mandy.

With a Christmas tree that we chose and decorated together, with presents and a large family meal. It was a lovely experience. The family dinner as well as the conviviality and reflection on Christmas Eve are a little like the Turkish Sugar Feast — one of those religious customs we used to celebrate as children with our family. The Sugar Feast always takes place after the day fast, and is a time when families spend several days together, celebrating the end of Ramadan. However, I admire and respect all other sportsmen and women who fast during Ramadan. As Ramadan, which in Turkish is called Ramazan, always moves forwards by ten days, it occurs at a different time each year.

So when I was 14 or 15 the fasting period was in winter. As a teenager I did fast occasionally. We children tried it out because we were curious. We wanted to know what it was like to eat nothing all day long. Of course, it also made us feel a bit more grown up. It was a mixture of several things. You wanted to be cool, because you were one of the adults if you fasted — children are excluded from fasting — and of course there was peer pressure too. In the afternoons we used to spend a lot of time with friends or relatives. My parents never made us fast. They gave us the choice of observing Ramadan or not. I tried it two or three times. Once I lasted five days, and another year I even managed to hold out for ten days. I remember the first time, dragging myself out of bed to the kitchen in a state of total exhaustion. The breakfast table was piled high with stuff. And nor have I come across Germans who turn their noses up at fasting Muslims.

Looking back I can say that, with all the experiences I had between cultures, my childhood was decisive for my entire career. My mother has been particularly important for the path my life has taken. I was always impressed by how hard she worked. How she sacrificed everything to make a better life for us children in this country that was foreign to her, and how loving she was to us despite her arduous day-to-day existence. This was partly down to my background. He was reported for his racist comments. I had another experience of xenophobia when I was a youth player, however, which had a more lasting influence. Between the ages of 10 and 12 I went to several trials to try to get into a Schalke 04 youth team.

They have a much more substantial development programme than smaller clubs, which lack the money for advancing young talent to the same extent. I first tried during my time with Teutonia Schalke, then when I was playing with DJK Falke Gelsenkirchen. I attended the trials four times, on each occasion driven with ambition. I dribbled nimble-footed through the slalom poles. And, as far as I could tell, did pretty much everything right in the games at the end. Because I was a foreigner? My father felt the same way. One day, when we were gloomily going back home after yet another rejection, I asked him what I could have done better. Such as the time when I was playing for Rot-Weiss Essen, my youth club after Falke Gelsenkirchen. Before I changed clubs the boys always lost against local rivals Schwarz-Weiss Essen. It was usually a foregone conclusion: Rot-Weiss would go and get a pasting.

But this changed when I moved there in In my first derby I scored seven goals against our rivals! Against all expectation Rot-Weiss beat Schwarz-Weiss 8—1. My first derby victory. But for the next game I was on the bench. Rather than being rewarded for my achievement I was punished. All thanks to the parents of one of my teammates. Their boy was playing in my place because, as we later found out, his father was helping Rot-Weiss Essen financially. And this was clearly more important than goals that produced victories. The conflict did not last for too long, however. After a few weeks the coach became convinced that goals were more crucial than a set of jerseys for the team. I was also given great support by the club legend, Werner Kik. Kik bought me my first proper pair of football boots. In worn-out trainers with holes in them, which gave me no grip. But now, at the age of 12, I had real Nike boots. Every single scratch on my ball pained me.

When my ball became too scratched I carefully removed the individual leather panels and we just played with the inner bladder. My experiences with Schalke and the supposed prejudice against foreign players affected me for a long time. But then, in my third year at Rot-Weiss Essen, I met Norbert Elgert. Rot-Weiss Essen had offered to make me a professional. At the age of just 15 I would get a contract and play for the second-division Essen side. For around 4, euros per month, if I remember rightly. That was a huge amount of money for me and my family; it would have changed our life overnight. In addition Werner Kik had managed to arrange for me to be picked up from home and driven the 20 kilometres to training when I was just Normally this service was provided only to the age groups 16 and older.

Because of Norbert Elgert. And this was the key thing. The school nurtured sporting talent. Three times a week those pupils gifted at football had extra training in the morning instead of maths, English or art. Thanks to a flexible timetable with substitute lessons we could catch up, usually with tutors in the afternoons. Most of the good footballers at Berger Feld school were already playing for one of the Schalke youth sides. The football training was run by Norbert Elgert. In one of the first sessions after the summer holidays he got us to play a three-a-side game against some Schalke boys on a small pitch. But I do remember exactly that the three of us beat the Schalke boys big time. When I was about to head back to school after training Elgert took me aside. They had rejected me four times already. Why should I now forgive them for this humiliation, seeing as things were going so well at Rot-Weiss Essen?

But Elgert spoke to me again after the next training session. You have to come to Schalke. After all, this football coach seemed to be an honest and fair man. For our discussion Elgert invited us to Kronski, a pub in Buer Market in Gelsenkirchen. Mesut, I will give you the very best training in every aspect of the game: technique, tactics, footballing understanding and intelligence, athleticism, mental speed, emotional control as well team spirit and conduct. And that at Schalke we can improve your chances of fulfilling your ambitions. But we had huge reservations about Schalke.

Just like any player. All that counts for me is performance. Nothing else. Elgert was very smart. The primary reason for training footballers here at Schalke is not to win titles with our youth teams. Our chief aim is to produce as many professionals as possible. The goal of our training is to make them be better tomorrow than they were today. And the day after that to be better than tomorrow. Until my players are ready they stay with me. We liked his views. Mesut has physical shortcomings. We also need to work on his right foot and heading. He must get better at winning the ball.

The money was tempting. For the first time I understood that you can actually get rich from football. But we were convinced that my career opportunities at Schalke were substantially higher. When I played for Rot-Weiss Essen in the Lower Rhine Cup I saw Elgert on the touchline. Whenever I glanced at him he was watching me. In the end I asked my coach at Rot-Weiss Essen, Michael Kulm, for advice. I wanted to know how he would respond to the Schalke offer if he were in my shoes. After this we were finally convinced. This man really was fair. The efforts we could see him making to get me to come to Schalke meant he must have seen something in me.

Elgert was interested only in my qualities as a player, not in my background. And so in I left Rot-Weiss Essen for Schalke. At the start of my career I felt as if someone had pressed the double speed button on a DVD player. So many new impressions. So many new experiences. So many changes in such a short period of time. When I moved to the Schalke 04 youth team nothing was as it had been before. The first six months I spent there felt like a month. It was in the middle of a park, on top of a hill, with views over the town. The mumbling in the room stopped at once. No U player needs luxury like this. But we took the conscious decision to bring you here.

What you can achieve. How nicely you can live if you give it your all. My family has worked very hard and now we can afford to stay in hotels like this. As successful professionals you can have this too. I want you to understand our gesture in the right way. Never take this for granted. Show some humility. The achievements of a professional footballer are never greater than those of a doctor, journalist or a cleaning lady. But to be talked to like this was completely new. I liked it, just as I liked the idea that one day I might be able to afford to stay in hotels like this. Up until then this world had been totally alien to me. A kilometre journey taking the fast road. I used to think that Gelsenkirchen was a world metropolis. The city seemed so big to me — I felt that there was no end to it.

One after the other they all talked about their holidays. Someone had been in a hotel in Spain. Other children had stayed in villas in France or Turkey. Me, on the other hand, I never had anything to say. After the meeting Norbert Elgert assigned us a task. We had to come up with our own team credo, set out on a placard what we wanted to achieve together and how we imagined we would play. We had agreed on 15 or 20 points along with corresponding fines. Forgetting your shin pads was punished by a fine of 20 euros, arriving late — if I recall correctly — would cost you euros. As a group we quickly agreed on the sums. We pay you a few hundred euros pocket money per month so you can concentrate on your careers rather than having to get a job alongside school and football.

Do you really want to impose a fine of a hundred euros if someone turns up late? Your pocket money will soon be all gone. How about we halve the fines? Every player on the camp had conversations like this at some point. Elgert wanted to get to know me better as a person, find out about my dreams and ambitions. But talent alone will only get you to the threshold. To actually go through the door you need the right character, the right attitude — you have to be smart and work hard. Everyone wants to be something, but nobody wants to make the effort to get there. At the time the programme was still quite new; there had only been two series. Awaiting you up there in the firmament of your career are so many things you have to be prepared for. Only a firm grounding will bring you lasting success. But you should not let yourself shoot from the bottom to the top rung. I understood the core of what Elgert was trying to say. How did these two things go together?

I asked him. But with all the self-confidence you have, you must also have a realistic self-awareness. You should feel as strong as an ox, but I still expect you to estimate your abilities accurately rather than totally overestimate them. The key to success is to be patiently impatient. Elgert was absolutely the key coach in my career. He always wanted the best for me and was always there for me too. I learnt so much from him. I was desperate to play — every time I wanted to know what I could do better. But often I ran around the pitch like a headless chicken.

It was from Elgert that I first learned that something like tactics existed at all. Although many people will shake their heads at this comparison and refuse to accept it, Norbert Elgert was very similar to José Mourinho. He always said what he thought. He was never satisfied! He taught me the most valuable lessons and prepared me for my professional career. Telling me who should advise me in the complex business of football. Or advising me as to whether I should switch to another club. But if your rise is too rapid you can get burned before things have really taken off. Which means that as a young player you should always think very carefully about which offers you accept and which you turn down. In January I went with Schalke 04 to Sindelfingen for the Mercedes Benz Junior Cup, a youth tournament that has taken place every year since We were being watched by Dunga, Heiko Herrlich, Ralf Rangnick and Guido Buchwald.

Joachim Jogi Löw was there too, watching me whirl around the pitch. Teams from all across the world had come to Sindelfingen. There was even a team from Vietnam. Before the tournament began all the teams went into the hall in turn. Like the parade of countries at the Olympic Games, we entered to the accompaniment of African musicians drumming and lasers flashing around the room. I was wearing number 11 on my jersey. It looked more like a sack, however, as it drooped down from my narrow shoulders. In the group stage we played Galatasaray of Istanbul, Porto Alegre, Werder Bremen and Borussia Dortmund, finishing top of our group without being defeated.

In the quarter-finals we beat the U South African national team 6—4 on penalties. In the semi-final we defeated Werder Bremen, again on penalties. In the final we won 3—0 against Basel and so were champions. My teammate Ralf Fährmann was chosen as the player of the tournament. I was the leading goal scorer with five, and afterwards I gave my first ever interview. For example, Thomas Strunz of the European Championship winning side and former Bayern Munich player, got in touch with my father. He had just been appointed manager at VfL Wolfsburg and was desperate to sign me. So my father went to Wolfsburg and listened to what Strunz had to offer. They sat in his office on the second floor of the VW stadium. You get a view from there of the stadium car park, the Mittelland Canal and the railway line to Berlin. All very different from Real Madrid some years later. From the room where we signed the contract with Los Blancos you can look directly into the Santiago Bernabéu. Strunz was a five-times champion with Bayern Munich.

He had won the German Cup and the UEFA Cup and now wanted to bring that winning mentality to Wolfsburg. Wolfsburg has already been in the UEFA Cup once, four times in the UI Cup and has never been in danger of relegation. And yet he liked the confident way Strunz talked. No one has to feel humble here. Why should we be satisfied with fifth in the table or worse? We want more. And we can get more. Only if you aim high are you going to get anywhere. He also promised my father a job at VfL Wolfsburg. And he suggested that our entire family should move to Wolfsburg — with the club covering the costs of our move, of course. It was a flattering offer, which all of us gave some thought to. Norbert Elgert was such an important support for me. Gelsenkirchen was my home. It was where I was born and grew up, and where I wanted to take my first steps as a professional footballer.

I loved Schalke; it was my absolute favourite club in Germany. So we declined. The conversation with Thomas Strunz was one of many that my father would have over the coming weeks and months. Since my first few games in the Schalke U side and my appearance in Sindelfingen, people offering advice were beating a path to my door. Whenever these strangers came into our flat and sat in our living room I found it very funny. Some wore suits and parked their big cars right outside the house. It was a not uncommon dare amongst some of the kids in our area, though I was always too much of a coward to do it as I was scared of being arrested by the police. Or for any other club you like.

I can take you anywhere. Each one of them claimed to have the best contacts to the greatest clubs in the worlds. They had impeccable rhetorical skills — these strangers in our living room we knew nothing about. Were they storytellers? Pied Pipers? Or were they really as influential and successful as they claimed to be? I saw the cars, the chunky watches that some of them displayed ostentatiously by rolling up their sleeves. This is why I left it up to my father to make the decision. So unfortunately we had to look for someone else. Once, in a state of excitement, my father gathered the family together. For us, 50, euros would have changed our lives on the spot. To earn 50, euros my mother would have had to work 12 hours a day for several years. In spite of this we rejected the offer. For a short while Roger Wittmann was my agent.

But I never had the feeling that I was really important to him. Then we let Dr Michael Becker look after my affairs. At the time he was representing the captain of the German national side, Michael Ballack, as well as Bernd Schneider and Oliver Neuville, both of whom were also playing for Germany. Becker did not remain my agent for long, however. When he gave me a Michael Ballack jersey the same feeling crept over me as with Wittmann. What was I going to do with a Ballack jersey? I wanted Michael Becker to represent my interests, give me advice, help me carve out a great career.

For that I needed a man who saw something in me, not a Ballack jersey. You grow as a person. You grow as a personality and a footballer. You change, you mature. Perhaps after two, three or four meetings you get the impression that the agent sitting opposite is the right one. My first season with Schalke was almost over. In early summer we were in the semi-final of the German U championship. Our next opponents were Hertha BSC Berlin, with a certain Jérôme Boateng. We were soundly defeated in the capital 2—0. The dream of a championship title was on the verge of being shattered. Only a 3—0 victory in the return game at home could save us.

In his hand was a golden dumbbell, which he flung to the floor in the middle of the room. I was a qualified fitness instructor and in this capacity I visited the FIBO, the trade fair for fitness and bodybuilding. There was a competition — the unofficial German fitness championship — which I took part in. Fifty participants. The first ten made it through to the final round. I was eleventh, about to be eliminated. The others are better. I fought my inner voice. Sod you! And another, and another. I won the thing! I whopped them all. The referee came in and asked us to get on the pitch. Then he turned back to us. I was almost out of the competition and yet I did it. Losing 2—0 in Berlin is no reason to doubt yourselves. The defeat makes us stronger. And now, out you go, boys! I felt as strong as an ox. As fast as a cheetah. As accomplished as Zinédine Zidane.

Elgert had stoked such passion in us that we managed to beat Berlin 3—0 and made it into the championship final. Where Bayern Munich awaited us. The southern Germans had come out on top against Freiburg in their semi-final. Thomas Kraft was in goal for Bayern, Mats Hummels in defence and Sandro Wagner was up front. In my team we had Ralf Fährmann, Benedikt Höwedes and Sebastian Boenisch. One of us stood in the middle, sprinted towards the players in the circle and launched a sliding tackle. At the very last moment they jumped over the tackler. I was not a candidate afterward. Just as we were departing, however, he withdrew one hand from the left trouser … Gunning for Greatness: My Life and millions of other books are available for instant access. subsequent generation. It is priced on components such as paper inventory, design and manufacturing prices, and marketing. However the fact that unites ebooks and print books is … Gunning For Greatness My Life With An Introduction By Jose Mourinho [DOWNLOAD] Gunning For Greatness My Life With An Introduction By Jose Mourinho Ebooks world history the human experience study guide citroen xantia petrol diesel service repair manual pdf 93 01 grand marquis owners manual anaesthesia read before the american dental association boston mass august 5th shop manual … Gunning for Greatness: My Life by Mesut Özil, , available at Book Depository with free delivery worldwide.

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