Det er slitsomt å være på plass, men herregud så gøy.
Tekst Saša Ibrulj
Did you know that when a journalist covers the major tournament, the thing that we do
the least is watching football?
You write, you rewrite, you edit, you record, you take photos and videos, you write again. You drive, sleep in the train station, eat triangle sandwiches in the service station,you run between mixed zone and media centre. You do the dishes, ironing, you are missing your family - oh, how you miss your family - you are getting mad at organisers for doing a terrible job, you are standing in queue for coffee for one hour, you are standing in queue for toilet for another hour. You return to your hotel/flat/room, have a beer, write some more, and pass away.
Three hours later you are on your feet, running to the airport or the station or your car,
heading to another town, another city, another stadium, another media centre.
We do everything but watch football.
The guys back home, they can watch three matches a day. Sit back, hug their partner and kids, open the beer and enjoy. We on the other hand can usually watch one match. The
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