April 25, 2024

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“I suffered from cancer, but I overcame it”

“I suffered from cancer, but I overcame it”

The first match Panathinaikos played in the 1969-1970 season was against Würferz. Petropoulos made a huge psychology mistake. He didn’t even take me on the mission. It was he who told me to believe you.

The following Sunday, September 21, 1969, we had the premiere of the tournament and played against Aris Thessaloniki in Leoforos.

Those who stayed here played for the youth team. I scored five goals. I dismantled them myself. I put seven, two canceled. The score was 6-1, with Antoniades scoring five goals. We lost 2-0 against Forverse and Petropoulos also knew what I did.

On the Thursday before the league premiere he said to me, “Baby, at the hotel.”

I, because I thought he didn’t depend on me, said: “I’ll stay until the premiere of the league. Even if he won’t let me play, I’ll quit on Monday and they won’t be able to keep me.” We didn’t have a contract.

Meanwhile, a friend of mine from Xanthi came over and we spent the evening together. I was convinced I wouldn’t play on Sunday. I replied: “Mr. Lucky, I have a sprain.”

“Did you hear what I told you? Your bag and the hotel.” He was also strict.

At the hotel they tied my leg and I tried it on a bit and saw that I could play. He called the ten upstairs and we were nine footballers, five of them forwards.

I still didn’t think I would be the main player and the assistant came Gazis Gavrilos. “Go upstairs.” I tell him: “So?” “Go upstairs, you play. And make sure you make it.”

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As I was passing the restaurant I was thinking of telling him I was not feeling well psychologically. I get to the loft, grab the handle of the door and say, “Hey, ’cause I’m leaving tomorrow anyway. She’s giving me a chance to play and I’m going to kick her? And why did you do ballet and track?”

I changed my mind and felt relieved. Camaras welcomed me and lifted me up psychologically.

I saw my name on the board and thought about what I would hear when we went out onto the field and they saw me in the squad. Nobody counted me.

I was wearing a brown shirt as if ten water bottles had been thrown at me. I’m sweating profusely from what I’m about to hear. In fact, when they heard “Antoniades” fans did: “Woohoooooo!”. Domazos wasn’t playing. He was punished.

“They’re cursing, they’re cursing,” I say, “get down,” and the match begins.

They see something different… Antoniades, but to convince them I had to send the ball into the net. This is my football story: goals. I scored 1017 goals.

Meanwhile, don’t let the target pass by. And we reach the 36th minute. Eleftherakis hits Ari’s goal. The goalkeeper was Christidis. I run for any save to score an easy goal.

Christidis made a save, and the ball went to the post and back.

I step into the bimini hole, shoot with my left hand, and the ball goes to the birds and 46,000 hands hit me.

Another 3000 to stand with iron. They were holding the railing with one hand and they were smearing me with the other. 49,000 hands were smeared, except for my brother. I was saying that the earth would split in two and swallow me up. to disappear.

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The next minute I took the ball from Economopoulos. I didn’t do anything terrible. I was leaving in a straight line. They pushed and beat me… I didn’t fall. I got out of the area.

Ares defense grabbed me, Gripilacos. And I drag him into the area to take the penalty kick.

Smirtzes also came, caught me and threw me. He made a foul outside the area, I would have won the two-meter penalty. Meanwhile, the others did not stop the swabs. They were constantly smearing and standing up.

I went to take the free kick and one of the bars yelled, “Put the ball down, man! You want to take a free kick too.” “Leave it too long, I’ll shoot it,” the Rokids told me. He had good legs.

He made the foul, Seimertzis hit in the middle and the ball came straight to me.

I grabbed the outer bevel and went to the range. Christidis did not have time to move. Once the goal was scored, silence reigned at the end of the grave. Muga!

Come on, 50-100 is called goals. Everyone else is a mug. What do they have to shout? For three minutes they smeared me. In the 42nd minute, left-back Athanasopoulos made a cross. Christidis did not see that I was retarded. He came out comfortably to block the ball.

I read the stage, I run fast. I went to block him, applied my chest and went into the net with the ball. The second goal was that. About two to three thousand celebrated and the others remained steadfast.

At the start, when I missed the goal — the one that went to the birds — Petropoulos picked Gonius to warm up.

If I didn’t score, he would have sent me off to get rid of the fans’ anger and insults. Maybe he also wanted to protect me.

In the second half I had two shots and hit them. After that, the whole story of “Antonius the Helpless, the One Being Persecuted” changed.

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