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Night of Champions (English ver)

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London, England. Berlin, Germany.

May, 17 2014.

 

 

One.

You never know how does it feels to wait. You also never understood the meaning of wait. You never strong to wait for something that is not definite. And you never can afford to wait.

Before becoming a part of this family; big family that using harmony as the reason of their success.

Always stuck in words almost endless. Similarly, bad rumors which nevertheless are often hit them. Frustration excessive - a lot of people feel. Repeatedly blaming each other among thousands another assume no hope.

Amid a sea of glowing red, among the hundreds of fans who would not stop shouting the name written on the badge on the shirt –which you consider to be music in your ears, you blinked repeatedly. Twenty- four hours –not the most beautiful in your life as well, probably one of the happiest days for you. Initially you don’t believe –you wake up this morning still feeling this was all just a dream. Do you believe it now? No. Even now you feel the need to take a breath, blinked again to wake you up –back to face reality.

Which turned out to be true.

"Hey."

You do not need to look up to see who is now squatting in front of you, smiling broadly –no more loneliness were sparkling from his eyes. Successfully. You got him to come back. You just smile, do the same. More sincere than ever, because those heavy load slowly evaporate.

"Hey –"

Faith.

He looks at you straight, as if trying to convey the meaning behind the back thousands of beautiful spark embedded in his eyes. Suddenly your tongue tied to say a word. Even his smile –makes you have to hold your breath.

You always need that one person to believe in you -

"Congratulations for the goal and of course –as the man of the match."

Because you know, behind all his sentences, there’s a meaning from Jack Wilshere. Only for you, one Aaron Ramsey.

Even when the whole world gives up on you.

Yes, you managed to prove everything.

 

Two.

Of course you still reluctant to move from the ground you walk on now –with strapping chest and head held high, trying to shake the feeling that is not supposed to show up today.

No substitute.

Sentence for nearly 25 minutes circling haunt your mind. No –you have to forget  it. There must be no longer a speck of doubt in your heart. Despite the fact that your eyes can not be one hundred percent lie. But ... you don’t know. You just do what you're supposed to do, and –hey , if it’s not without you, they may not be in a situation like this.

"We are one, remember?"

You do not need to turn to know who’s the person that’s now standing right behind you.

"I know."

Always say the same thing. We are equal to one. Big family. There shouldn’t be injured or hurt. If there is, someone has to calm him down. Because it is the way it is –a unified whole that begins with harmony. One smile, bring a change. One hurt, lost balance.

Its not your fault. Although the pain was still there, invisibility in the first 70 minutes is not entirely your fault. Okay, maybe it's not one hundred percent true nevertheless. But you’ve had to be replaced –smile, smile, come on. If you glance at reality, you have tried – maybe fate want to toying you or maybe they want to test your patience. Needless to hurt, all players knows what does it feel being substituted.

It's coach's decision. It's the best.

For Yaya Sanogo who seriously needs a lot of time to show his potential.

"Smile, Lukas. This is our  first trophy, as a family."

No need to blame anyone –you know it. After all, you're getting used to it –no, not because it is too often being replaced, but you know ... there is something. Because you're still be trusted. By the coach. By your team mates. By the fans who never stopped shouting your name along with the phrase 'please do not leave us, I beg you'. Especially –by him.

"Don’t I look like I'm smiling, uh, Oli?"

You still be trusted –by your own family.

And he –oh, he shows his small smile with faces that looks like I wanted to hug you right now, Lukas –with the background of some team mates who trying not to stare at both of you. Because really, it wasn't kind of public consumption.

And from the corner of your eyes, you know that Mesut Özil faking a some conversation with Per Mertesacker. But you don’t need to come to them and asked what happened because –

"Lukas Podolski, I really want to hug you right now."

 

Three.

"Gift for farewell, eh?"

You suddenly froze when someone in front of you threw the piercing gaze. Then you regret having said it. Although it doesn’t actually make sense because, hey, you're the one who going to move and why should you are the one who being scolded?

"Don’t talk like that or –"

Threats. Why should you talk to him embedded threats such as these.

"Or what? It was reality."

And you –oh, how stupid, you shouldn’t say things like that. Wait –regret again. Especially with the change in his expression. Why? You just say what you should say. Inevitably he had to accept the risk. What? Because you are officially his closest friends and historically his seniors? Oh –come on, it still doesn’t makes sense.

"Woj –"

Then you're getting desperate.

Honestly, he really wanted to slap you –but the real situation is not possible, so he thought better. Yet who would have thought if a bloody battle in the middle of the pitch? Of course both of you will be in trouble.

"I don’t want you to move, Lukasz."

At moment, the corner of your eye  catch the figure of Per Mertesacker that show his thin smile, not to far from you. Perhaps he was one of the strongest factors that make the figure in front of you is able to say something like that. So far, it is impossible for you to hear that... he definitely needs a boost –and Per is the urge.

“Why, Woj?"

"Because you are my senior for a long time."

Logical one, Wojciech Szczesny.

But you gave him a thin smile. There was no intention to reply to that sentence. Then, since when you were together? You almost don’t remember –you just know that he has changed, for a better than before.

"Practice harder, Junior."

To fill your place, be a super great goal-keeper for real.

"You don’t need to remind me, Senior Fabianski."

 

 

Four.

Again.

Meet again.

You swallow your saliva, trying not to regret the fate that approaches. Because really –why should like this?

Among the many opponents that exist in every football events in Europe, why are you must facing Bayern Munich?

And among the thousands footballers from all corners of the earth, why should he?

"Shit."

It could mean two things; (1) Because you lose again or (2) Because you see his eyes –were still imply guilt after nearly a season –who then met with your eyes, which did not imply anything. Emotionless.

Now you're trying to hide your feelings, Marco.

Trophy. Trophy. Career. Trophy again. It is absolutely the most desirable things for every professional footballers –making almost half of them forget the most important reason why you play football; love .

It's a bullshit. And you know it.

Love on football, huh? You will not gain anything with love. Except for one thing, happiness when you are in the middle of the pitch, with teammates, wearing badges that you love with all your heart. Because you believe, that it was able to increase your performance every you touch the ball .

And you forget that easily, after seeing the harsh reality that is happening right in front of your eyes.

Mario Götze just lift their DFB-Pokal trophy anyway. You don’t need to cry, Marco.

Now, what?

Robert Lewandowski. Candidates for the next traitor.

You just turn your way, hopefully to stay away from the pitch. Needless to say congratulations to him –you want to be all alone. Mario may be aware, but not now. You need time, again, to keep away from reality.

"Marco?"

Each one of them will be part of your history. Not your destiny. Mario and Lewi.

… Maybe?

"Stay away from me, Lewi."