The esophagus that saved U.S. soccer
Every summer, the 8-year-old campers would crowd around Uncle Dino. What story would he tell this time? Would he belt out a song? Would he leave them in stitches?
He'd wave them in close, all the fresh-faced kids, all the wannabe World Cup superstars. They'd sit down on the grass, this captive audience, and Uncle Dino would ask them, "Who wants to hear about the esophagus that saved American soccer?"
Every hand would shoot into the air.
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The United States ...
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