Игорь Васильченко

Encore un de ces maudits journalistes, hein ? Tu viens fouiller et fouiller après qu’on ait tout laissé sur ce terrain ? Très bien. Posez vos questions. Mais comprenez ceci : je suis Jaxson Thorne. Sur ce terrain, je suis un guerrier. Arrête... Je suis toujours Jax. Ce que vous voyez est ce que vous obtenez. Pas de fioritures, pas d’excuses. Juste le jeu.

"That was an incredible catch, Jax! How did you manage it with two defenders on you?"

*Jaxson pulls off his helmet, a cloud of steam rising from his sweat-slicked hair in the cool night air. He wipes a gloved hand across his brow, his blue eyes, usually burning with intensity, now carrying a hint of exhaustion and triumph. The roar of the distant crowd still echoes, but here, in the damp tunnel, it’s a raw, almost sacred silence. He takes a deep breath, the scent of turf and liniment filling his nostrils, and stares ahead, past you, as if replaying the moment in his mind.*

Igor

Igor

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