For all the criticism FIFA takes for its views toward women, it really doesn't get enough credit for the resolute manner by which it clings to those outdated attitudes.

Take, for example, Alex Morgan. If you pay any attention to the USWNT, you know that Morgan is the star of the team. She's the engine that keeps the team humming, and no one on the field is able to impact a game as well as her.

She rightfully deserves special attention from FIFA, and a new feature on the organization's website grants her that spotlight.

The result, though, is a bit problematic.

"Alex Morgan is one of the most popular players in USA women’s football," according to FIFA's website. "A talented goalscorer with a style that is very easy on the eye and good looks to match, she is nothing short of a media phenomenon."

So it's more of the same from FIFA: A sexist lede to start discussing the all-world talents of one of America's stars.

Except the next paragraph has absolutely nothing to do with her on-field performance or relevance to this year's Women's World Cup.

"There is more to Morgan than meets the eye, however. A successful children's writer, she has just published Hat Trick, the fourth book in her series 'The Kicks.'"


The way FIFA's written this, it seems to be doing everything it can to avoid discussing Morgan as an accomplished superstar. This is like discussing Michael Jordan by first mentioning his Chicago steak house. Or describing who Michael Phelps is by talking about his endorsement deal with Subway.

But beyond being offensive to Morgan, the article is perhaps the most utterly useless thing you could read about the Women's World Cup on the day of a semifinal match. It featured the top two teams in the world, and FIFA wants us to ogle Alex Morgan.

Sure, Morgan is fun to look at, but it's mostly because she's better at soccer than pretty much anyone else on the field.

The 2015 Women's World Cup began June 6, mere days after the break of FIFA's historic scandal.

If it weren't such a doomsday scenario for the organization's top leadership, one could easily interpret the headlines as a way to wrest attention and momentum from the female stars who perform under the banner of its organization.

Given the circumstances, though, former USWNT member Julie Foudy breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think everyone in the game thought it was about damn time," says Foudy, who now serves as an analyst for espnW. "They've been a legendary joke in the way they do business, and you just wondered how long they could let it go on.

"The irony is the country that came latest to [embracing soccer], and cares least about the game, is the country that brought it down."

FIFA's plague of corruption, which involved hundreds of millions of dollars illegally collected over decades, is a story that will continue to unfold over months, if not years. But everyone involved in women's soccer sees the organization's inevitable reforms as an opportunity to gain greater consideration and support from FIFA.

The sport's most influential voices have wasted no time in seizing upon the opportunity.

"Before, there was not a lot of conversation about how it was being run," said former U.S. star Brandi Chastain to the Huffington Post. "It was just FIFA. It was FIFA. And now, whether our new president -- male or female -- will have to be more a thoughtful, more transparent leader.

"And what I'm hoping is that they will see women's soccer on par with men's soccer and support it in the same way. ... And I look forward to that in the future."

The relationship between FIFA and its female athletes has been heavily strained by the governing body's attitudes toward women.

Often, the dynamic is an uncomfortable one. FIFA insists on owning the women's game, and sitting president Sepp Blatter has championed himself as the " godfather" -- his word -- of women's soccer, despite his track record of chauvinism.

At the same time, FIFA placed the women's side several rungs below the men's game, in terms of monetary support, competitive fairness and even player safety.

The World Cup is currently being played on artificial turfs that the women players have repeatedly decried as sexist and unfair -- the fake grass inflicts far more injuries on athletes than natural grass, which is provided for the men's World Cup.

Earlier this year, Alex Morgan -- a former FIFA World Player of the Year, and one of the most recognizable female soccer players in the world -- said Blatter didn't know who she was.

Blatter gets plenty of press coverage for his sexist attitudes, and the attention is well-deserved. But the flawed logic is in assuming that getting rid of Blatter will solve the organization's dismissive handling of the women's game.

"[FIFA's sexist culture] is pervasive, he's the one at the top," Foudy says. "But FIFA is legendary for that pervasive attitude. That's where I hope there's a whole change and shift.

"This is a billion-dollar business. Any good business knows you have to have diversity of thought. That's the only way you can excel."

Foudy points out that some incremental improvements have taken place over time. She mentions Moya Dodd, a former women's star and currently one of three women on FIFA's 27-member executive committee, as a force for change in the organization. Dodd is the chairperson of the FIFA Task Force for Women's Football, an initiative within FIFA designed to grow and support the women's game.

As FIFA's scandal brings top-level soccer executives to justice, it will create leadership openings that could go toward building a larger presence for women within the organization. Dodd could be sought out to fill an even larger role, thereby gaining greater clout within the organization and giving women's initiatives greater consideration.

Foudy also notes that the next president to replace Blatter -- assuming he follows through and resigns his position -- has a chance to use the growing women's game as a pillar of his or her legacy.

That could go a long way toward improving support for women's soccer as well as the on-field game. But Foudy also insists that the smaller soccer federations that make up FIFA will also need to provide better financial and resource-based support to women's soccer if the sport is going to realize its potential.

Outside of a handful of programs enjoying strong backing by their national soccer organizations -- among them the United States and Germany, who face off in Tuesday's World Cup semifinal -- many international women's squads struggle to succeed in the face of weak domestic support.

Despite a potential talent base, Brazil has a poor infrastructure for nurturing women's soccer, putting its women's national teams at a competitive disadvantage. Foudy points to France as an example of how improved support from federations can quickly change on-field results.

After fielding a sub-par women's soccer product for years, France dedicated its resources to building a strong women's national team. The team entered this World Cup ranked No. 3 in the world, losing to No. 1 Germany on penalty kicks in the Round of Eight.

"They're reaping the benefits of that investment," Foudy says.

After its deflating loss to Germany, France's players were quick to point out another measure of injustice afflicting the women's game. French star Camille Abily slammed FIFA for forming World Cup groups based on which matchups would sell the most tickets and draw the largest TV crowds, instead of trying to create a balanced tournament bracket, which the men's World Cup enjoys.

As a result, the world's top three teams -- U.S.A., Germany and France -- were all placed on one side of the bracket, with two of the top three teams facing off in a quarterfinal.

"This is not to blame them [for the loss] but why don’t we do it like the boys?" Abily told French newspaper L'Equipe after the game. "At some point they have to stop taking us for idiots. ... I'm sorry but if they did a real draw, maybe we would not have played Germany or the United States after."

In other words, FIFA concluded that it had to choose between competitive balance and maximum revenues -- and it sided with money. That's not entirely surprising for a business, but it comes at the cost of compromising your sacred product, which is the World Cup.

Meanwhile, the numbers from this year's tournament suggest that FIFA underestimated the draw of women's soccer. Reuters has reported that the USWNT's opening World Cup match in 2015 drew triple the TV audience drawn by its opening match in 2011. The TV audience in China has doubled in four years, and in-person attendance of Women's World Cup matches has doubled to 1.5 million.

That kind of performance is making a strong case that women's soccer is a product in need of better management -- and that includes better support. For all of its treatment from FIFA as a secondary sport, the Women's World Cup is now a legitimate source of revenue.

Money talks. Proponents of the women's game hope that FIFA's incoming leadership are ready to listen.

"Just consider the fact that they are so many light years behind the rest of the world in running a business," Foudy says. "They're going to have to have sweeping changes."

Slowly but surely, women's soccer is catching on not just in America, but all around the world. Several of the sport's biggest stars have strong name recognition, and there's some speculation that women's soccer is now the most popular female sport in the world.

Nevertheless, they continue to fight against demeaning ideas and comments about

The most recent instance: Brazilian soccer official Marco Aurelio Cunha making his observations on why women's soccer is finally catching on in his home country.

"Now the women are getting more beautiful, putting on make-up. They go in the field in an elegant manner," Cunha told The Globe And Mail in a phone interview. "Women's football used to copy men's football. Even the jersey model, it was more masculine. We used to dress the girls as boys. So the team lacked a spirit of elegance, femininity.

"Now the shorts are a bit shorter, the hair styles are more done up. It’s not a woman dressed as a man."

By many measures, this is chauvinistic in the level of Sepp Blatter, who years ago suggested that women wear shorter shorts to get the attention of male fans.

But Cunha's stance isn't nearly so pig-headed as Blatter's. Poorly phrased, sure. But he also laments the lack of support Brazil's women's team has enjoyed over the years -- particularly its star player, Marta, who is easily one of the best players of her generation.

"Football is a religion here, but this country has not been there for Marta: She'd never be recognized as one of the best players in the world if she had stayed in Brazil," Cunha says. "Who's the most awarded football player in the world? It's a woman -- but that answer is a bit awkward in Brazil."

The prevailing challenge in Brazil is that soccer is seen as a men's game. Despite having one of the best women's teams in the world, Brazil does not encourage young girls to play soccer. Soccer scholarships to colleges do not exist, and the country does not fund a junior national program.

Cunha obviously sounds like he wants that to change. Although the reasons are problematic, the growing support is nonetheless welcome by athletes who have traditionally been ignored.

After the details of her 2014 domestic violence arrest were made available just before the start of this year's FIFA Women's World Cup, Hope Solo has been the target of harsh criticism -- and the lack of any punishment for the goalkeeper has turned attentions toward U.S. soccer.

Now, U.S. Sen. Richard Blumenthal is going after U.S. Soccer president Sunil Gulati in a strongly worded letter that has been released in its entirety to the public.

The letter accuses U.S. Soccer of failing to investigate or take any action regarding the new information revealed in police documents from the 2014 incident.

"The details from police reports, sworn witness depositions, and a transcript of a 911 call from that evening, paint a picture all too familiar to those of us who have worked closely with victims of domestic violence and family violence," writes Blumenthal, who then brings up the gory details of Solo slamming her nephew's head into the cement ground.

Blumenthal, a Democrat from Connecticut, also slams U.S. Soccer for being silent on the matter for three months after the allegations and arrest first hit the news.

"Last year, I criticized the NFL for failing to adequately punish domestic violence in the wake of a two-game suspension given to Ray Rice," Blumenthal writes. "It is distressing that after so many months of national dialogue on the issue, we find ourselves at square one in the Hope Solo situation.

"I urge U.S. Soccer to conduct a thorough investigation into this incident -- an inquiry that includes a comprehensive review of police reports and interviews of the alleged victims. In the interim, U.S. Soccer should at least articulate an explanation for Hope Solo’s position as an active member of Team USA."

U.S. Soccer has not commented on Solo or responded to Blumenthal. The team is scheduled to take on Sweden on Friday.

All of Blumenthal's points are legitimate, and others have made the same case. But it is worth noting that one of the two backup goalkeepers for the U.S., Alyssa Naeher, is from Bridgeport, Conn., where Blumenthal maintains one of his offices.

He was one of the most talented football players of his generation, and now he might live the rest of his life behind bars. Lawrence Phillips was a big-time star at Nebraska during the 1990s and was a first-round pick in the 1996 NFL draft.

Now, he's a convicted felon serving a 31-year sentence for assaulting his ex-girlfriend and trying to run over three teenagers with a car. And things could get worse: Phillips is a suspect in the death of his cellmate at a maximum-security prison.

USA Today has released letters Phillips sent to loved ones in the time period just before his cellmate was killed. Phillips describes the prison as a horrifying place in several letters sent to Ty Pagone, a former high school coach with whom Phillips has maintained a strong relationship.

"Coach D, this place is a jungle," Phillips writes. "Trouble everywhere. One must swallow his pride constantly or one will always be in the hole. But we must deal with the situation we put ourselves in."

In another letter, Phillips writes that he has been cleared to move from a max compound to a minimum security prison, but his move has been held up due to overcrowding. The prison currently housing him was built to handle 2,500, but its current population is more than 3,700.

In a May 2014 letter, Phillips says that he has applied to live in a single cell, citing the drug habits of other prisoners. Two weeks later, he says this about his social situation:

"All they they want to do is the drugs, make knives and make alcohol. Then they say when they get out they will not come back. I tell them of course you will. You are doing the same thing that got you locked up. Of course they do not want to hear that. It is like speaking to a brick wall.

"Now I understand how people must have felt talking to me. So needless to say I have zero friends inside here. Not one person is in line with my way of thinking."

In the last letter, Phillips alludes to a problematic situation he is facing in the prison, but does not go into detail. This likely refers to his suspected role in the death of his cellmate. Prison officials have only said that the investigation is ongoing.

It's a troubling latest development for the fallen football star, but also a sharp critique of America's prison system. If those feelings of fear, discomfort and paranoia were simmering for that long, can the system be all that surprised when its prisoners reach a breaking point?

Lisa McHale has every reason to be happy. Awareness of football's inherent concussion risks has taken root among much of the U.S. population, parents are thinking twice about letting their kids play football, and even college and professional players are taking a second look at their own involvement.

Compared to this time last year, so much has changed. For McHale, though, it's just one small step in a much larger process.

"Just the general awareness that concussions are an issue, that is certainly much more recognized," McHale says. "There needs to be much more done, however, educating [the public] on what that means."

McHale has unique perspective in observing the cultural change regarding concussions in sports. As director of family relations for the Sports Legacy Institute, she is in constant contact with families who have chosen to donate brain tissue samples to the brain bank at Boston University. The bank functions as the world epicenter of diagnoses and research regarding chronic traumatic encephalopathy, or CTE -- the condition that degenerates brain tissue through the build-up of protein, and which is caused by often repetitive damage to the brain.

McHale is perfectly suited to deal with families who have lost loved ones suffering from CTE. Her husband, Tom McHale, was a former NFL player who died in 2008, and who later became one of the first NFL athletes diagnosed with CTE.

When her husband passed away, Lisa McHale knew nothing about the disease. Even more perplexing, she wasn't aware of Tom McHale suffering concussions either during his college career at Cornell or during nine seasons in the NFL.

"It was very much news to me at the time," Lisa McHale says. "Nowadays, people are much, much, much more aware of it. It's not uncommon for donors to reach out to us, instead of us trying to track them down."

Indeed, much has changed -- both in terms of the general public's knowledge as well as how researchers perceive of the disease. When Tom McHale was the sixth former NFL player diagnosed with CTE, the condition was seen as causing dementia during an individual's 40s and 50s. In 2008, CTE had been identified only in NFL veterans between ages 36 and 50.

Since then, brain bank donations have skyrocketed -- a benefit of families being able to recognize some of the symptoms of the disease. CTE has been diagnosed in many younger individuals, including former football players who never even competed beyond the high school level -- Boston University's CTE Center lists an unnamed male donor -- a multi-sport athlete who suffered multiple concussions -- as its youngest brain donor diagnosed with CTE. That individual was only 18 years old.

Bear in mind, CTE can only be diagnosed after an individual dies. The diagnosis of CTE in one deceased 18-year-old makes it very likely that the condition is affecting other teenagers, potentially even minors.

And with that comes great risks. Death is often the end result of a long, grueling stretch of suffering by patients with CTE. Tom McHale's post-NFL years were fraught with behavior that was later much easier to attribute to CTE. His wife told The New York Times that in 2005 -- 10 years after his retirement from the NFL --McHale began abusing painkillers to deal with chronic pain resulting from his football career. The use of these medications exacerbated lethargy and depression he had already been exhibiting.

Tom McHale went on to start using cocaine, and he entered drug rehab three separate times. On May 25, 2008, he succumbed to what had plagued him, accidentally overdosing on a combination of cocaine and the painkiller oxycodone.

That drug behavior didn't mesh with who McHale had been the rest of his life. The erratic made much more sense when placed in the context of his CTE. The condition can have different effects in different individuals, but common complications can include depression, anxiety, short-term memory loss, confusion, and even suicidality. It's normal for these symptoms to first show up years, sometimes decades, after the last involvement in sports.

Tom McHale's diagnosis was part of an early jolt of momentum that first thrust the issue of CTE into the sports spotlight, and subsequent diagnoses continued to increase awareness of the condition while cluing researchers in to how CTE comes about.

The trends uncovered by recent research are even more disturbing than what researchers thought seven years ago. We now know that concussions even in adolescence and youth can yield serious consequences later in life. But it's not only concussions that athletes and their loved ones need to worry about: Several studies over the past few years have pointed to sub-concussive hits as being just as problematic and dangerous. They're also tougher to identify than a traditional concussion, which increases their threat.

Meanwhile, a large study published last month in JAMA argues that those big hits garnering replays during TV broadcasts are just the tip of the head injury iceberg. Most football concussions, according to researchers, occur in practice -- not in games.

That's why McHale isn't content to celebrate our collective public awareness of concussion risks. Even as the general public gets informed on the issue, new evidence is presenting an even more alarming picture -- and fully understanding the threat against our mental health is critical to making any real progress.

"There's a lot of false sense of security that people know more than they do," McHale says, "as far as translating to the playing field, catching concussions when they occur.

"it's a real question of, well, what do we do about that? People do need to be aware of how much our kids' brains are getting jostled about."

McHale's preference would be for contact to be eliminated from practices. That would eliminate a huge chunk of concussions suffered at the college level and below, not to mention the sub-concussive hits sustained on a daily basis.

She also thinks football should be limited only to athletes high school and above. Below that age, kids are taking too much contact on their heads and don't understand how to protect themselves. The full risks of such a sport, meanwhile, can't be easily communicated to a seven-year-old.

But you can teach a young player how to identify signs of a concussion -- and she doesn't see why that can't happen on a national scale.

"If we can give kids a red ribbon to say 'No' to cocaine and heroin, I think we can tell them that head trauma is bad, and that if it happens, they need to tell an adult," McHale says.

One of the biggest cultural events pushing concussions into the public spotlight was the rash of college and NFL players who left the sport during the current offseason. The most significant such retirement was by San Francisco 49ers linebacker Chris Borland, who was coming off of a very impressive rookie season but decided the sport was not worth the long-term health risks.

Borland was just at the start of a potentially lucrative NFL career, and quitting when he did forfeited millions in potential earnings. When he retired, Borland emphasized his concerns over concussions and brain injuries football would exposure him to, and he couldn't justify playing the game even with so much money on the line.

Several other NFL players, including Tennessee Titans quarterback Jake Locker, retired either in their playing primes or with several productive years ahead of them. Some were more specific than others about why they were quitting, although the wear and tear of the game was cited by most. And in the college football ranks, Michigan center Jack Miller chose to give up his senior year rather than put himself at another year of risk.

Such defections from football show that public awareness is affecting change even at the highest levels of play. This is perhaps the capstone of brain injury awareness to date: As individuals gather more information about what could happen to them later in life, they're less willing to sacrifice their futures for the sake of a sport.

The criticism against the NFL's early handling of concussions was that it withheld information about the true risks the sport posed to players. Now, that information is widely available -- even mothers of small kids have access to an abundance of information. The public's awareness is critical in spurring on any change, whether that change is cultural or regulatory.

Both the NFL and college football have committed to increasing the safety of the game. The college game moved up kickoffs to reduce the rate at which kicks were returned -- kickoffs being the most injurious play in the game, statistically speaking -- and the NFL has implemented a strict concussion protocol while levying harsh rules and punishments for head targeting of players.

Player safety is being addressed by the sport. But concussions remain an inevitable risk -- and CTE looms in the distance.

"I don't know if it's enough," McHale says of the NFL's safety reforms. "They have absolutely done some things to make the game safer. Whether it's enough, I really don't know.

"But I think with the NFL I'm less concerned, because it's a game for adults. As long as they're aware of the risks, then I'm OK with that."

After a powerful earthquake killed more than 8,000 people in the Himalayan country of Nepal, many of its natives living in other countries were desperate to return home. The 400,000 Nepalese workers in Qatar, however, were banned from leaving the country.

Now, Nepal's labour minister is slamming both Qatar and FIFA for not allowing those workers to leave in a time of crisis. Many of those workers are currently involved in the construction of soccer stadiums for the 2022 FIFA World Cup.

"After the earthquake of 25 April, we requested all companies in Qatar to give their Nepalese workers special leave and pay for their air fare home," labour minister Tek Bahadur Gurung told The Guardian. "While workers in some sectors of the economy have been given this, those on World Cup construction sites are not being allowed to leave because of the pressure to complete projects on time."

Qatar's working class functions in an oppressive system known as "kafala," in which workers are essentially the property of their employers. When migrant workers take a job, they must hand over their passport to their employer, which then controls whether the workers leave the country or not.

Ninety percent of Qatar's population is comprised of migrant workers, which has been decried as modern-day slavery by numerous humanitarian organizations around the world.

FIFA has come under fire for awarding a World Cup to a country whose riches are built on the backs of slaves. Despite the harsh criticism, the organization has made no effort to pressure Qatar into reform -- the kafala system remains unaffected.

Gurung laments that his complaints will likely fall on deaf ears because his country is not a world power.

"Nothing will change for migrant workers until FIFA and its rich sponsors insist on it," he said. "We are a small, poor country and these powerful organizations are not interested in listening to us."

Here is HBO's Real Sports reporting on the slave labor system in Qatar:

The drama surrounding FIFA president Sepp Blatter and his dismissive attitudes toward women's soccer is starting to reach comedic heights.

After suggesting the women wear shorter shorts to build intrigue among fans -- and, more recently, calling himself the "godfather" of women's soccer around the world, despite doing almost nothing but hold it back from further growth -- U.S. star Alex Morgan reveals that Blatter doesn't even know who she is.

That's significant because Morgan is a former FIFA Women's Player of the Year. She's made several appearances alongside Blatter.

None of them were enough, apparently, to stick in his memory.

In an interview with TIME Magazine, she recalls the most notable instance:

"I have experienced sexism multiple times, and I'm sure I will a lot more," she told the magazine. "I feel like I'm fighting for female athletes. At the FIFA World Player of the Year event [in 2012], FIFA executives and FIFA president Sepp Blatter didn't know who I was.

"And I was being honored as top three in the world. That was pretty shocking."

Morgan has been among the professionals who actively campaigned for the 2015 Women's World Cup to be played on natural grass, which is safer for athletes but more costly to install and maintain.

Her requests fell on deaf ears -- FIFA has insisted that artificial turf be used.

Maybe if she'd said it wearing short shorts, Blatter would have heard her.

Floyd Mayweather hasn't been so popular since he won his fight against Manny Pacquiao. Many people who spent money on the fight were upset that the 12-round contest lacked fireworks or any truly compelling moments. For a sporting event that generated hundreds of millions of dollars -- around $400 million in pay-per-view spending alone -- Mayweather turned in a dud.

There's also his criminal history that has been revisited in recent weeks, particularly after he banned at least two female reporters from entering the fight on the grounds that they had criticized him as a convict of domestic violence.

So when Mayweather turned up at a Golden State Warriors playoff game Wednesday night, he didn't exactly get a hero's welcome:

Many people observed that the boos rained down on Mayweather were even louder than the treatment given to the opposing Memphis Grizzlies. One local sports columnist firmly believed that the booing was in response to Mayweather's track record for beating women.

But Mayweather is used to being treated that way and taking flak for his past behavior. His most common response has been to ignore the criticisms and hope they go away. That was his same strategy at Oracle Arena.

The noise stemming from Mayweather's domestic violence history just seems to grow louder the more he tries to avoid it. So far, though, he's content to count his millions and smile.

In an effort to break the Guinness World Record for the largest marathon ever, officials in Doha, Qatar, bused in thousands of immigrant slaves working in the country and forced them to run in whatever clothes they had -- including even if they were shoeless.

Many workers wound up running in jeans and flip-flops, Doha News reported. Those who tried to leave were forced to stay in the marathon and cross the line, which was required for their participation to count. The marathon was started at 2 p.m., when the temperature was 84 degrees.

The logic behind the event, which was a half-marathon, was amazingly ignorant: The race's official website branded the marathon as a protest against global negative opinions toward Qatar, including a "decisive response to the campaign waged by the sector of envious haters on the success of Qatar to host the 2022 FIFA World Cup, and to their false allegations of persecution of workers and residents in our beloved country."

Somehow, forcing slaves to run 13.1 miles in the heat doesn't seem to be the appropriate response to those allegations. Meanwhile, Qatar has been slammed by Amnesty International for its "severe" exploitation of slaves in Qatar. The country operates a system of slavery that turns employees into property owned by their employers.

Employers often hold the passports of those individuals, which prevents them from escaping the country.

These immigrant workers comprise 90 percent of Qatar's population, and this labor force is being used to build the soccer stadiums in the country ahead of the 2022 World Cup. The country's widespread use of de facto slavery has been a point of criticism against FIFA, which awarded the World Cup to that country despite its poor record of human rights violations.

Despite the global outcry, FIFA hasn't deviated from its plans, and Qatar has made no effort to reform its practices. In fact, this marathon stunt suggests it is as emboldened as ever to maintain its ugly status quo.

As it turned out, it didn't come close to the marathon-participation record. It would've needed more than 50,000 runners. A race representative told Doha News that there were about 33,000, but others pegged the total to be much lower.

Even for runners who had been preparing for the event found it to be disorganized. Doha News cited a runner's complaint posted to the race's Facebook page: "too exhausted and too tired but despite of the obstacles i tried to finish the race only to discover that there was nobody on the officials table, no organizer, no medals for finisher, and to think that there were timing devices on our numbers..what are we supposed to one explain it to us…very disappointing…"

Syndicate content