No. I'm not talking about the famous and infamous, the Berlin Wall. I speak of a wall made of flesh, muscle, sweat and tears.
I'm talking about John Terry, central defender, captain of Chelsea and England. A big man of 186 cm to 91 kg, 28 years old next December. A big man who last night, under the British rain in Moscow, was dissolved in a sea \u200b\u200bof \u200b\u200btears.
Abstract: I am not a supporter of the Chelsea team, rich and overrated (IMHO). Yet yesterday, after the final of European Cup (I'm still here, and who called the Champions is asked to go fuck Anelka's brother ...), when Manchester United lifted the cup-eared I was disappointed. Because I saw a man, John Terry in fact, be the best in the field, not a wrong action, and firm in closures and in advance, gritty and hard, but always correct. I saw Terry spire of the head with a disarming power, save a goal on the line with a twist of the neck prohibitive. I saw Terry drag, like a true captain, his team fuori dalle sabbie mobili di un primo tempo in balia del più tecnico e spocchio Man U, risorgere in un secondo tempo concluso con un palo di Drogba, dominare i supplementari colpendo una traversa nonostante l'inferiorità numerica (espulso Drogba). Ai rigori, un fastidioso ed atteggiato Cristiano Ronaldo ha sbagliato un rigore calciato, come sempre, in maniera irregolare. Il rigore decisivo per il Chelsea lo calcia John Terry. Il Capitano sistema il pallone sul dischetto, conscio che è a 11 metri dalla storia, dalla prima Coppa dei Campioni nella storia del club di Stanford Bridge. La sua è stata una partita perfetta, e lui può consegnare l'epica vittoria alla squadra per cui da bambino ha tifato, ed in cui gioca da quando ha 14 anni. Terry takes a running start, displaces Van der Sar, but ... slips in the vicinity of the disk and takes off!
What happened next, you have seen it all.
I have only one image in his head: his eyes red and glistening with a giant yesterday that he wanted to be small, and hide like an ant in the wet grass of the stadium in Moscow. That giant, yesterday, had not the strength to climb the stairs head-on.
is not right, John. You had to climb the stairs head-on. Because you last night you played a memorable game, and if Chelsea was one millimeter of the cup, the credit has been especially yours.
Ps: will never happen, I know. But if one day I happen to play against Cristiano Ronaldo, who bit me and gives me the usual 3:00 to 4:00 fake unnecessary and irritating, I will give a kick on his knee with his foot hammer! So then we see if it still queer provocateur ...
I'm talking about John Terry, central defender, captain of Chelsea and England. A big man of 186 cm to 91 kg, 28 years old next December. A big man who last night, under the British rain in Moscow, was dissolved in a sea \u200b\u200bof \u200b\u200btears.
Abstract: I am not a supporter of the Chelsea team, rich and overrated (IMHO). Yet yesterday, after the final of European Cup (I'm still here, and who called the Champions is asked to go fuck Anelka's brother ...), when Manchester United lifted the cup-eared I was disappointed. Because I saw a man, John Terry in fact, be the best in the field, not a wrong action, and firm in closures and in advance, gritty and hard, but always correct. I saw Terry spire of the head with a disarming power, save a goal on the line with a twist of the neck prohibitive. I saw Terry drag, like a true captain, his team fuori dalle sabbie mobili di un primo tempo in balia del più tecnico e spocchio Man U, risorgere in un secondo tempo concluso con un palo di Drogba, dominare i supplementari colpendo una traversa nonostante l'inferiorità numerica (espulso Drogba). Ai rigori, un fastidioso ed atteggiato Cristiano Ronaldo ha sbagliato un rigore calciato, come sempre, in maniera irregolare. Il rigore decisivo per il Chelsea lo calcia John Terry. Il Capitano sistema il pallone sul dischetto, conscio che è a 11 metri dalla storia, dalla prima Coppa dei Campioni nella storia del club di Stanford Bridge. La sua è stata una partita perfetta, e lui può consegnare l'epica vittoria alla squadra per cui da bambino ha tifato, ed in cui gioca da quando ha 14 anni. Terry takes a running start, displaces Van der Sar, but ... slips in the vicinity of the disk and takes off!
What happened next, you have seen it all.
I have only one image in his head: his eyes red and glistening with a giant yesterday that he wanted to be small, and hide like an ant in the wet grass of the stadium in Moscow. That giant, yesterday, had not the strength to climb the stairs head-on.
is not right, John. You had to climb the stairs head-on. Because you last night you played a memorable game, and if Chelsea was one millimeter of the cup, the credit has been especially yours.
Ps: will never happen, I know. But if one day I happen to play against Cristiano Ronaldo, who bit me and gives me the usual 3:00 to 4:00 fake unnecessary and irritating, I will give a kick on his knee with his foot hammer! So then we see if it still queer provocateur ...
Next taken from a straight leg - http://avantiagambatesa.blogspot.com
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