Erling Haaland put Brazil out of a World Cup on Sunday night. Here is everything that went into the body that did it, across one ordinary day.
He wakes and the first thing he does is get daylight into his eyes. Not a phone, not a coffee, sunlight, on purpose, for the circadian rhythm. Then filtered water. He will not drink it out of the tap.
Breakfast is eggs on sourdough and a coffee with raw milk stirred through it. He reckons coffee done right, with a little raw milk in it, is close to a superfood. Alongside it, a glass of the milk on its own.
On the way to training he detours to a sixteen-cow farm in Cheshire and buys the milk at the gate, because you cannot get it in a shop. Some of it gets blended with kale and spinach into the green stuff he calls his magic potion, and that rides shotgun to the training ground.
Lunch is oily fish. Sea bass, salmon, mackerel, with rice. Dinner is where the plate turns medieval. Tomahawk, ribeye, short ribs, and then the bit that broke the internet: beef heart and beef liver, the two most nutrient-dense foods on earth, eaten by choice. Raw honey. More milk.
The papers love the 6,000-calorie figure. He waves it off and says he doesn't count. He just eats real food until he's done and goes and scores.
What's on the plate:
- Beef heart and beef liver, by choice, from the butcher
- Tomahawk, ribeye, short ribs, the fattier the better
- Eggs, most mornings, on sourdough
- Salmon, mackerel, sea bass
- Raw milk, by the glass, in the coffee, blended with greens
- Raw honey
- Butter, rice, sourdough
- His dad's lasagne before every home game. A kebab pizza once a year, if he's lucky
What never touches it:
- Seed oils
- Fizzy drinks
- Alcohol, near enough none
- Protein powders and processed supplements. Not one
- Ultra-processed anything
- Tap water. He filters it
The official guidance spent fifty years telling you to fear that plate. The best striker alive built it on purpose and is knocking the five-time champions out of a World Cup with it.
Press conference is finished.
If I'm Brad, I'm pissed.
Chisholm let him twist in the wind (the media was complicit in this).
I'd jump at the first chance to run another franchise if/when that opportunity comes along.
This new ownership group is shameful. And spineless.
'He didn't just play for Boston. He embraced communities like Dorchester, Roxbury, and Mattapan. He showed up at schools, basketball clinics, community events, and youth programs. He spoke about educational equity, invested in young people, and consistently used his platform to support Black youth in Boston. It reminded me of the kind of community connection that made Reggie Lewis so beloved here.'
The Jays era got me thru some real fucking shit times. It’ll forever be one of my favorite sports eras ever. Real damn appreciative that I got to grow up rooting for the Jays
Jaylen Brown was the third overall pick in 2016 and was booed on draft night. He was benched during the Kyrie/Hayward era, and signed a contract extension nobody believed he deserved. He proceeded to improve every. single. season. and eventually help the Celtics raise Banner 18, all while doing absolutely NOTHING wrong.
Never controversial. Never an issue off the court. He always played hard and never complained. Boston just lost one of the greatest players to wear a Celtics jersey. It’s a guarantee his jersey will be hanging in the rafters one day.
I actually can’t believe it. He got booed on draft night, trade talks every offseason, and all he did was go to work and leave it all on the court.
And we traded him for 35 year old Paul George.