In Huub Stevens new autobiography he tells a fairytale involving a Dutch international and his lovely wife spending a little extra time together. The story goes as follows:
Once upon a time, at Hamberger SV, there was an assistant coach who approached the manager with a surprising game prediction.
“Van der Vaart will deliberately pick up a fifth yellow card. His wife is celebrating her 30th birthday and he wants to be there.”
The gaffa was shocked, but just as predicted, #23 picked up a yellow for kicking a ball after the ref had already blown his whistle. So in the end, the rest of the squad went to Berlin to play Hertha, while Rafael sipped expensive champagne with one hand, and held his wife’s hand with the other. (I'm assuming pooty ensued for his hard work and yellow-card earning efforts to be with her on the big 3-Oh.) Can you really blame the guy? I mean, even I’m girl crushing a bit, or at least fashion crushing.
And they all lived happily ever after. Or at least VDV did.
Link: Which Dutch Star Got Booked So He Could Party with His WAG?
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