First face descompones, I guess slow motion image must be worthy of National Geographic, then loose a scream, constant, it takes forever. You embrace the tus friends, Dani and Albert, while you scream, only scream and jump in a state of alienation transient. We embrace then three other guys that are placed on our right, foreshortened, in impossible bodies that maintain the balance in a burst of happiness until they fail and that forces mass of muscle and flesh decays and falls, chairs and between legs. Just screams of glory among us, until gradually reassemble the puzzle and recover the senses. Then, look to your left and see a man who is alone, that has crossed across Africa in a few hours for this moment, weeping like a child. What makes tears spilling down her face, unable to contain the emotions. Only noise around, and happiness, much: Iniesta had scored the goal expected of history.
Then, look to your left and see a man who is alone, that has crossed across Africa in a few hours for this moment, weeping like a child.
You remembered then that sms said Del Bosque us one day before the end. Alberto had his phone and I send an anonymous message on Friday saying "Congratulations, accounts with three throats morning to support Red: Dani, Alberto and Javier ". The response rate, do not know who writes, Character speaks: "Thanks. Enjoy the party ". The day before the most important game of his life, The Spanish coach has time to respond to an anonymous sms and do it in those terms: Enjoy, says Vincent, teaching a formula that takes you directly to glory. So we did the few Spanish who were in the country and the millions who followed them from other corners of the planet. Our lives will remain the same, will still reveal injustices which, problems they face and parties that celebrate, that life for the naysayers of this type of collective happiness bursts of gray fly, void as ridiculous as stimulus.
Remember also the number of South Africans who were dressed in the Red, encouraging a selection that is not yours and could hardly put on the map. A family of Indian origin, celebrated amid the triumph spanish fans. The girl, about seven years, carried the Spanish flag painted on his face. His hand collided with us and smiled without understanding anything but here are a bunch of people who's having fun. "I join the party", must have thought.
Life for the naysayers of this type of collective happiness bursts of gray fly, void as ridiculous as stimulus.
I have seen an entire restaurant sing the "Viva Spain" accent stumbled; dance and laugh workers tolls when we gave them from our particular car vuvuzelas serenade; flee security member went to ask us to stop kick ass with trompetita and found that we played in the face (the guy was laughing and we also); to a group of children staying to watch the cars parked in the far reaches of the stadium and greet eight hours after, party that lasted into, with a flag of Spain and, yes, asking us to give them to the liver ... This is a place where, by standard, the smiles are returned with smiles.
And over the World, the event that changed the face of the country coarser and became friendly. They will return now fears empty streets at night? Will I look for on the fences that divide this country between suspects without suspicion? I notice the silence, the lack of flags hanging from cars, the minibus without tourists? I felt something similar for a while, when almost without lights stadium, I noticed the video scoreboard saying "Goodbye". I have sat, in silence, thinking of the party that has been the South Africa World Cup and the World Cup not. And 19 day delivery to Namibia, where it begins another journey, with a smile hanging on my backpack. "To enjoy", I'd say Del Bosque.
