Everything comes to an end


ANDn the time to say goodbye most of the time you don’t know what to say. And hardly what to do. Moments where you see what you experienced pass before your eyes and, almost always, what you suffered until you reach that day where just swallowing saliva becomes a superhuman effort. Sevilla have fired three players. With honors. Three gentlemen who are already part of the story nervionense. They leave titles, joys and many dreams come true. They take the affection of a club, of a stand and the heart dyed in white and red. I don’t know what Sevilla has that nobody leaves slamming the door. The law of life dictates that Franco Vázquez, Escudero and Vaclik must leave the Sánchez-Pizjuán. The club will look for them (or has already found them) substitutes who understand that they will contribute something more. Youth, illusion or hunger to win. The same that one day they carried in their suitcase these three professionals who take the door with an empty stadium and an overflowing soul. It’s a shame to say goodbye in this situation. And unfair to them. Even for Lopetegui and his men. The best season in the League (by score) in history without a single spectator. A Europa League title without a miserable chant in the stands. The fans approached before the crash to give the thanks. That communion will come again. Everything ends. Forever. Until this fucking pandemic.

That comes to mind Super Cup in Trondheim. That game where the Mute Vazquez He made his first goal as a Sevilla player (ayy, that ball in the corner …) and he was beginning to fall in love with Sevilla, who has put him on an altar and has withdrawn the word from him several times and even in the same game. Able to enchant and despair in two consecutive actions. That is why the different ones mark. The Mute leaves his mark. So many finals fought and until the penultimate he could not scream victory. That dance with Ocampos and mate always in hand. That footballer without a footballer’s body. That genius without wit. That last high heel against Elche. Crying the ball entered, like the tears that he shed in the stands and that he tried to swallow without success. Also comes to mind Squire galloping through the Basel stadium in the final against him Liverpool. Two Europa League wins the Valladolid. A player who with Sampaoli It seemed to have no roof and a one-eyed man with injuries has looked at him. His football has not gone any further and the demand of Sevilla has ended up leaving him behind. And not even for those has he given up. He has fought and defended the club from the captaincy. A Sir. And what to say about Vaclik. A great porterazo with a knee in tenguerengue, no matter how much he takes care of himself and tries to hide this problem. Professional like few others. More than stops, he has had them, I remember that hug with Lopetegui in Colonia. He was no longer a starter, but he was just as happy. Or that great game that was scored before him Real Madrid despite his daughter’s accident the night before. Always available. It is not a group. It is the group.

Everything ends. Like this course where the Seville he has achieved his personal record in the league and has seen how many clubs celebrated titles. Atlético, Barça, Real Sociedad, Athletic and perhaps Villarreal. He has not been able to touch silver again. And look who has tried. A year with a bittersweet aftertaste for that determination to overcome each day, the innate nonconformity that lights a fire that only goes out with great triumphs, with successes, with achieving what one day they told you was impossible and you sent the doomsayers to ride. That is Sevilla. Playing with fire without burning yourself, what a challenge. What difficulty, what improvement, what greatness. Because on the day that everything ends, that the eyes have filled with tears and the hugs have multiplied, as in the last relay of a mystery step, wishes are already carried over to the next course. As far as to know which team Sevilla will have and why they will be able to compete, and at the same time so close as to feel that before the economy of the greats becomes buoyant again, thanks to the entrance of the public and the world rebound once Once the pandemic is over, Andalusians have an opportunity to rub the lamp of illusion for the most difficult dream. Everything comes to an end so that everything begins again. There is already a monkey that this starts. How much is left, José Francisco?

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