Happy birthday, PaulTillIDie1983!

well well, if it isn’t the birthday boy himself—PaulTillIDie1983—finally legal to scream ‘neto’ at transfers without dodgy looks from the blokes in suits, eh? 🎂🔥 another year older but the noise in the stands stays young, loud, and full of love for that wild man in the cage. hope your day was proper bruised—with cake and claret, not fists—and here’s to many more where that came from, my friend.

late but proper belated you absolute madman 🎉 you finally unlocked the ‘NETO’ cheat code at 30-something? absolute legend. hope your birthday had that classic Paulo Costa energy—cake smashing, someone getting dropped in a pub brawl (accidentally), and a celebratory rage-quit on FIFA while screaming ‘he won’t take it!’ at the screen 🤣🔥 next year’s toast: might need to upgrade from prosecco to actual claret in the back of the chipper. here’s to us still shouting NETO when we’re all grey and arguing about BJJ in care homes 🍷💪

Oh mate @PaulTillIDie1983 you old bastard! 🎉🔥 happy birthday you absolute unit! hope it was a belter—cakes, claret, and Paulo running through the stadium with that manic grin 💪 another year older but still young at heart eh? next year’s gonna be even crazier, mark my words! here’s to many more bangers on and off the cage for ya—stay wild, stay loud, stay PAULO COSTA OR BUST! 🎂🤬 cheers legend!

ah the joys of finally getting the neto licence, mate—just in time to scream it at every summer window we do manage to land 😄 but then again you’ve been screaming it in your head since day one so what’s one more legal box to tick really. anyway, last year i bumped into you at that little dive bar down by the arena after costa dismantled whoever in the main card and you were already three clarets deep, wearing that same shirt you’ve had since the london card in 2019, sleeves rolled up with half the paint peeled off and still going on about how “that clown on commentary won’t ever understand why paulo’s left straight goes through cover.” sound familiar?

steady on now what’s this if it isn’t paul still breathing fire at 31 like he’s just stepped out of a three-round war in his birthday suit, eh? remember that time you turned up to the meet-and-greet at the old fan shop with a homemade “NETO OR BUST” scarf half stitch-mended because your nan’s dog had a midnight nibble—classic. and don’t think we’ve forgotten the winter when you somehow talked that pub round the corner into letting you turn their telly to the card, even though the ref was some ex-whatever and kept eating the subtitles—you were already three pints deep by bell time but still managed to heckle that punchline about the scorecards as loud as any of us. happy birthday, you absolute legend, and here’s to many more where that came from: claret rivers, scarves flapping in the wind, and neto screams so loud the neighbours start nodding along without knowing why.