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About Ostrava

We haggle—coin’s tight, an’ I’m a cheap bastard. “What’s yer price, darlin’?” I slur, an’ she fires back, “More’n yer worth, pirate.” Cheeky! I love it—reminds me o’ “I play to live,” from th’ movie. She’s playin’ her game, survivin’, an’ I respect that. So, we strike a deal, an’ off we go—me boots clackin’, her skirts swishin’. Did ye know some o’ these gals kept diaries? Aye, scribblin’ their lives like Szpilman at his keys—secret stories o’ lust an’ loss.

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So, my friend, if you come see me, prepare for late night walks, quirky chats, and a city that’s both my battleground and my paradise. Hustopece’s wounds and wins are all stitched together with a type of relentless charm only seen by those who’ve been through the grind. And as Tony Montana would shout, "Say hello to my little friend!" – the city that shelters my soul, rough and tender, scars and heals in equal measure.

Chris Baker clears 2.36m in Hustopece high jump – global update