I guess now would be the time to mourn and whining about the referee, mind to the mothers of the players who have failed in the goal. To recognize the superiority Barca, feel depressed, I swear not to return to encourage this computer, remove the shirt of Real Madrid, hide the scarf and pull the keychain from my portfolio.
Ya.
The problem is I do not want.
The problem is that I refuse to see this supposed superiodidad, I refuse to recognize a good game that I have not glimpsed. I refuse to blame my players fault that I have not seen. I refuse to give back to mine, because from now Roures chain are all lining up to kneel before the Lord of the abscess.
No, bucking. What I do not convencéis.
that I've seen other party. A game where Real Madrid play itself has been known to Barcelona, choking from the beginning. A game where the stripes began more lost than an athletic Cibeles. An excellent match raised by Don Manuel Pellegrini. A vibrant party where there was always room for hope and pride. Where the errors were almost inevitable-you can not keep Messi canceled a long time, "but expected to be offset by the success of our strikers. And that's where we failed, on the legs of those who never fail. In other absences were noted.
That I will not blame them, because I find nothing to criticize. Because I think they were immense. Because they fought like wild beasts, and lost to give face, maintaining high pride. Because they were our Real Madrid.
And so tomorrow I'll go with the shirt, let the scarf which is clearly visible in my wallet keychain. For my eleven useless have done more than I expected from them. Because I'm proud of her attitude. Because I refuse to give anything up for lost. Because I'm
Madrid, and that means many things. Get up when you fall. Raise the head, then the following victory between the eyes.
not ever be ashamed when your people have come, brave and honest, to give us a decent fight, leaving up, but not defeated.
Nobody told us it was easy. But only we could.
Hala Madrid.
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