We are not the most powerful, nor do we want to be (because our root is in the people and that power is conceived otherwise). We did not win as often as others, and we slip (because true love not bargain with the results.) We went to B (because the game needed a metaphor for the eternal fidelity). We sold the court (because, after raising one with our own hands, alone, give a metaphor for dignity). All this is true. And this ... Our fans (you, me, everyone) is a worldwide legend, admired even by Maradona, only swollen to which Diego, in full Bombonera, made a reverencia.Que our players filled the football field, in every decade, memorable teams, dozens of strikers, the first undefeated champion, first Metro-National champion, who won with more points in modern tournament, only won 13 straight games. the Gasometer was the first sacred temple of professional football and living in the memory of all, Ravens or not. The campaign in B, when the teams raised over the A, is a milestone that will surely never be matched. Fill Velez, Boca and River. Who else did? San Lorenzo who was born 100 years ago to be, in these times of dictatorship pragmatist, the Quixote of the smile stubborn, the last bohemian poetry tablonera, the antidote to despair. That is the Cyclone, kid: the most beautiful excuse to celebrate the great little moments, that existential puzzle where you have to know how to win and lose, fall and rise, suffer and enjoy, laugh and mourn, and be faithful, always, dreams and oneself. All is not lost, kid, if in victory or defeat, in anguish or ecstasy, give her a kiss and shouting like Barca, el-cyclone, the cyclone and the ocean of arms pointing the sky, there are flown, unbeaten Ravens worldwide.
* By Eduardo Bejuk to Olé
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