rising of a sluggish spring, when the major leagues of Europe come to an end, with their reassuring certainties of load (no, no, next year there will be no Osasuna and Stoke City in the Champions League, we can rest assured), comes the voice of the overseas trip to Chelsea on average 12 goals per game, while Barcelona's immortal exploits widely known Arsenal , Real Madrid, all stunned by mirabilanti prowess as the feast of roasted chestnuts with the novel.
Well, you see Chelsea and Barcelona in the Champions League final? No.
made them out, playing with the humility of Siena, Inter Milan. The difference is that Inter are Inter and Siena, in fact. You can answer: this is an issue. Maybe, but then at that point we would have preferred that there really was Siena.
On the other hand, there was no escape, if Inter had played yesterday it openly, he would have celebrated the courage, the bravery, the partisan section. Having raised the barricades, perhaps because even a bad (if not how to describe it, spoilsport?) Expulsion of Motta, go with the heroism, the Thermopylae, with the line of the Piave.
It seems that it should be somewhat proud, participate. In one futuristic scenario, Inter won the Champions as well: a hypothesis is not farfetched, considering that it faced a team, Bayern Monaco, who almost did not even know how to get there, in the final, between Manchester and suicide Ovrebo.
Perhaps, at least, it would calm down. Perhaps, the white handkerchiefs, the fouls by the Criminal Code, the handcuffs, the lament, love, innocence, subversion of the established order, the eye possessed by Maicon and all this sad arsenal of meanness evaporate in a serene contemplation of his newly-acquired status team at the European level.
This, and no other, it seems a good reason to be satisfied.
Everyone deserve what they have (so they say, with a certain amount of simplification): Inter deserved the final, and we, of course, we deserve the Inter in the final.
Eddie & Arturo
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