Nilson Martinez was on the floor, dead now yes, but rage and courage. Other players be resignations. After all the penalty, once converted into goal, it would be a tie and not a defeat. The referee was where Nilson and spoke to him like a father to the dearest of their children. It must have been very persuasive because I saw him get up and shrink in the goal to the style of Pedro Zape in Deportivo Cali and Colombia selection. The umpire returned to tell you something and then went to where the performer. It was a high player, moreno of cheekbones and small eyes.
He said something to him and moved away from him. I looked at those who were at my around and I could see the faces of men and women absolutely invaded by the concern. If they had measured their blood pressure at that time would have been hospitalized all in the intensive care unit. Hangman took five meters of impulse and gave the first step forward. Nilson shrank even more the arbitrator set eyes on his assistant and the crowd contained breathing.
Then, the second step and I started thinking about the sadness of the whole week; and throughout the year and every other day. Third step and got to see several strong and anti-social man when they closed their eyes; two policemen struggled to keep at Bay a child that, innocent of the gravity of the moment, wanted to play with his ball on the Court. Fourth step and looked at swallows perch on the tree in the neighboring solar gazing back toward the rectangle marked by white stripes nearly erased by the bluntness of the football; Fifth step and Nilson Martinez arrived to the maximum of its tension. The right foot of the sucreno kicked the ball with force and I could not more also, I closed my eyes.