It is certainly not a fairy tale, it is not to be fondled as a beardless reality when it loses, it should not be enlisted in sterile diatribes: Fabregas’ team is simply a talented team, which has spent a lot and often well and knows what to do with the ball
It moves lightly, almost dancing, with that fatal rhythm that hides the effort of the project and enhances the talent of the technique and the fast muscle. When he attacks it infiltrates like water under the goals, irreparable: mockingly for those who suffer the flooding, he does it cheerfully because everyone in this game has fun and achieves expression by expressing themselves in the right direction: in the direction of the opposing goalkeeper. When he defends – and it happens like an uninterrupted flow, and always with the same lightness now the swarm regroups – the illusion is total, successful: wait, how did they do it? Are they all on attack and have they already recovered the ball? (and are they already moving forward)? How many are there in Como?
