I once had the opportunity to interview a Spanish survivor from the Mauthausen Nazi concentration camp. He told me a lot of things about his daily life confined in that space of various horrors that I can never forget. Among all that he told me, there was something that particularly caught my attention: according to him, the bulk of his conversations, far from focusing on his political ideas, in the course of the terrible contest that bled Europe, or in the feat he lived , revolved, above all, around soccer and what they would eat and drink once they came out. The star menu …
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