walk proud

walk proud

ah, the morning after.  time to soothe my hyperstimulated neurons and placate them into the drunken bliss of selective amnesia.  20 minutes into the first half, i already knew this wasn’t a match i’d want to relive.  i remember a time when i used to enjoy clasicos, even when we were losing.  but there’s just something so despicable about madrid’s present crop of players and coaches that i just want to get the matches over with and not look back.

so the night ended in a 1-1 draw.  we have the tiniest of advantages going into the second leg, with an away goal and what i’m sure will be a noisy home crowd.  and after the 90-minute adrenalin rush at the bernabeu, this is all i choose to (or can afford to) remember:

last-minute heartstopper

last-minute heartstopper


thanks, capi!



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