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on July 11, ten years ago computer technology wasn’t what it is today. With a thumb and a Blackberry of keys (now something of the antediluvian), more eager to leave whitefish to celebrate what never seen that working for my newspaper, I sent from the stands in the cold night in Johannesburg, my little chronicle of the party of happiness. Summed up, thus he said:
How beautiful is the Soccer City, the futuristic stadium in the form of a pumpkin that have been raised in Soweto. And how much more lovely with a Cup of the World newly won, abrazándote to strangers in the stands, impressed with the clear complicity of mestizos, indians and black south africans, who dressed up with scarves, shirts and flags, Spanish joined the cause of the best football of The Forest and its elegant warriors. Spain is already one of the eight countries of the select club of world champions. And has entered in the best way, betting on the intelligence, the beautiful game, fair play and collective effort. No divos, without the dander of the boring cuita Madrid-Barça. All pushing with camaraderie and giving way to something new, a modern football and solidarity, which could inspire up to a change of philosophy vital to our country.
it Was cold in the night cup in Johannesburg. No one felt it. The evening kicked-off with brightness. Sometimes even something as banal as the “waka, waka” of Shakira can be exciting. Just view the article in the heart of Soweto, surrounded by nearly 90,000 people and under a few sets of lights, mind-boggling. Another surprise was the unexpected presence of the last hero, Nelson Mandela, who overcame their aches and pains and the day is cold, it is caló, a beanie Russian and made that surely will be his last major public appearance. An honor to burn the hands aplaudiéndole.
it Cost more to applaud the first time in Spain. After eleven minutes of start fast-paced, with two clear occasions of goal that allowed us to ratify that Stakelenburg is an archer proud, the team Of the Forest aturulló; just might be consistent with their essences: the ball is controlled from the boot, the patience and, of course, that tiqui-taca, that both springs a leak to the contrary. The mistakes English is not casual. The netherlands was Argentina, paid to the anger and the tactical foul. In the Netherlands there are professionals of the scythe, like Van Bommel, a baker book.
poetic Justice that we gave away a World an artist generous, the Pelé of Albacete
But not only were the kicks. The netherlands is planted very well and even nailed it with solutions given by archaic -some marking to-man, which put a kink in the Spanish model. Test the cabbage prevailing is that Casillas was on the point of turning in team sports a return ball from the Dutch. Spain was not. Our hobby is biting the nails and the fans of the Netherlands were placed on the vuvuzelas with their chants. Almost a relief, the rest.
At the resumption, we sweat with the electricity of Sneijder and Robben and Casillas made two virguerías in the one-on-one. Then Spain is desperezó a little with Navas and their careers, was entonándose, and at the end of the second time and the first period of extra time enjoyed a carousel of times. Holland, stitched note cards, and inferiority, he sighed for the shootout. Spain had the faith. Only missing the goal. I could not come out of the thicket without the limits of Torres and Villa was no longer on the pitch. Then, who is? As the best footballer of Spain, and of the tournament, the Pelé of Albacete, Iniesta. Poetic justice that we gave away the World an artist generous, a stylist who addressed without reserve by putting the stand in front of the towers to the Dutch in a defensive role; a antidivo with the best of the charisms: the talent.
there Are eleven and ten. A wave of red and yellow sings the “I’m Spanish” and the “champions, oe, oe, oe”. The phlegmatic Dutch to my left, an island in an orgy of bliss, sends pocket for the mobile. You do not have a good face. It could happen. The netherlands, hard, and serious, proved to be the better of the rivals. But we are, at last and forever, champions of the world. The sky expected in Soweto.
Luis Windy
