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Stories about life: final of the losers

Stories and News No. 673

Yes, we are not the winners.
And maybe never will.
No complaint or protest.
You will never see us fighting the opponent off the game.
Or yelling at the referee for a more or less assumed oversight.
It is not in our own style.
I know well and that is easy to me.
I am the goal keeper.
That is a real privilege, I know.
I see everything where I am.
The igniting match and the running ball.
The rejoicing and suffering eyes.
Read as well as the perpetual alternation of the most prevalent disease in the world.
In short, supporters.
Right and left here are the modern fullbacks.
Real human elastics, two wonderful trips, those you need to do at least once in a lifetime.
Taking you deep down, where the field ends, to understand what is behind the horizon of green grass.
But forcing you to go back exactly where you started, to show that you've been really down there.
And especially not living me unattended.
Fortunately, I would not be alone.
Ah, what I could do without the two central defenders.
The twin towers that no hatred or fear in the world can scratch, let alone break down.
They stand with incredible or perhaps a little reckless courage to protect the result and perhaps much more.
Indeed, no perhaps.
There is something much more important than the outcome of a match.
It is hidden at the end of a road which is extremely longer than ninety minutes.
The only true rainbow that we all deserve.
A long and serene life.
Let us go up to the midfield and let’s admire them now.
The Three Musketeers with shoes sharper than a sword.
Because the best you can do with the latter is to sink the shot.
But of course you cannot, at the same time, gracefully dance on the tips and beat the innocent ball with unspeakable fury.
Without giving any space to rest and charging all of us on the shoulders.
Helping as needed.
Becoming wall if the threat requires it.
And predators if the occasion is propitious.
Anyway, at the end of everything, who will take the applause?
Always them.
The wonderful trio, in the form of a bird that steals the look with vanity and pride.
Beak and wings, center forwards, returning wingers.
Who almost never return, let's face it.
Nevertheless, they can be ever forgiven.
And when that happens everything is forgotten.
Because we are already crying out loud.
Yes, come one, goal!
Yet, despite such great team, we lose.
Every time we play, no exceptions.
However, believe me.
Winning the finale it's not so important to us.
Give us the chance to play.
And you will see that we will be happy.
As if we had won the world championship.

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