I rub my eyes.
It is like a dream on an autumn night.
Six goals to Germany.
I do not remember such a
Grosse Tragödie
in the history of German football.
This tragedy is incomparable, the tragedy of La Cartuja in Seville.
It reminded me of that work by
Nietzsche
,
The Birth of Tragedy
.
Dreams are dreams, but Spain, as a nation, needed a joy like the defeat of the German beast.
Such enormous joy that even the Valkyries despised those ridiculous Nibelungs, dark dwarves who lived in the depths of the party.
That was
Löw's
team
, which since the World Cup in Brazil has only managed to degenerate into a sensational team and has not been able to rebuild it.
A failure as great as the Reichstag.
But did the national team really play as a German national team?
It really seemed like training to me, a preparation match against married veterans, friends of
Beckenbauer
.
Right now I have remembered the predictions of
Omar Mascarell
, who plays for Schalke 04. Among other truths about the boatman, he said that if Spain played fast, the German team would suffer a lot.
And especially with three centrals, who are as slow as the Berlin express in the 1920s, with two full-backs who neither play defense nor creation.
And without
Kimmich
, the true leader, his chances would be on the brink of chaos.
You have not been wrong.
Indeed,
Luis Enrique's team
played dizzying football, with the movement of the ball very fast, vertiginous, with a
Morata
who appeared with the nerve of a
Hugo Sánchez
.
And with
Ferran Torres
, to the glory of
Guardiola
, who made a
hat-trick
without a left back in front of him and even laughed at
Neuer
, who looked like the goal of Sevilla Atlético.
It seems unfair to speak of individualities, because the entire team played with the claw and humility of the Carthusians of La Cartuja, who still remain on the island.
Unai Simón
was yesterday a spectator, a
VIP
guest
to witness such an exhibition.
Neither
Sané
nor
Kroos
- he seems older every day - and did
Werner
play
?
It was to score 2-0 and Germany was lost through its Black Forest, to be left as a wounded animal ready to receive the biggest beating in its history.
Never has a Mannschaft been seen so dramatically loathsome, execrable, on the brink of an atrocious end for Löw.
Grosse Tragödie
.
Not even
Ramos
glorified the win.
He broke muscularly, because the years do not forgive and so much party makes him reflect on his happy departure.
Neither his beard nor his bun can make as many millions as his family demands.
Luis Enrique becomes the coach who can boast his entire life having been the architect of this historic half dozen goals.
In football it is terribly inscrutable, absolutely paradoxical, but this joy we all deserved, please.
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Luis Enrique
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