We are only one day to know who will win the World Cup #: Spanish or Dutch.

The stakes rise as the cost of living, and most fans have already started to celebrate with absolute certainty that your computer does not even miss the final because I predict Paul, octopus.

I, however, not if I care more about my favorite team win the last game or think what I’ll finish when the referee blows the final whistle. It is not easy. It was an intense month of pure mental abstraction away from the most trivial and Purita really living my own joys and celebrating-goal defeats non-sporting.

The world has left me beautiful things, including those dribbling through a forest of legs that ended with the ball in the back of the net, or the colorful flags in the stands female faces, or Sara Carbonero entremanos microphone, or the applause VIP and bouncing with excitement of the actresses and princesses.

Now, what if I was permanently on file in my hard drive passionate supporter and poorly understood, it was these eight things:

1. Waka Waka. I will say those men who criticized the song pre-release saying it was a fraud and that was the previous best of Ricky Martin or current Bisbal, little jokes that did not give them a Faint, or as they say my cirimba Dominicans friends, when at the premiere of the video they saw on TV Shakira dancing barefoot with a hip movement of a stroke.

2. Octopus Paul. Do not know if it’s a ruse, or a simple trap the media, but this guy has a blessed month in trendigen topic of twitter and no media on the planet that has not replicated an allusion to their predictions. On second thought, if Paul is so successful it would be good to put as advisor to the World Bank to predict the next crash will generate global recession

3. Maradona, coach. Diego Armando was an exceptional player. Even today there are comparisons with Pele and the arguments of fans from both sides felt, claiming the throne for your favorite player’s final in the history of football. As a technician but was a novelty. See you there in the stadium, all formal gray suit him and tie, encouraging boys and hugging right and left was for me something unique. What I never imagined it took was once again the hand of God.

4. The vuvuzelas I do not know if the noise of this kind of long trumpet is more like the elephant or the bees, but I’m sure more than a drum has been around shattered, and when he returns from South Africa and Mrs. scream the house and announce to the collector of the day, the dialogue with the owner of the damaged ear is more or less like this:

- John, the collector!

- What

- THE TOLL COLLECTOR!

- WHAT WHAT?

5. Messi’s goal that never came. Few we hoped we were not forward to the blessed goal that never came. Conchal, was he, Messi, the Barcelona prodigy, the magician’s goal, the Argentine gold. That injustice, now more than one blames the defeat on his goal drought and calls for punishment to be slain, go to the 9 de Julio Avenue and just opposite the Obelisk, kneel, lift your arms to heaven, and swear that will not make it.

6. France and Italy in the first exchange. Two teams of tradition fell by the wayside in the first round, things were given as expected, for the first time in months made headlines in local newspapers with more intensity than Carla Bruni and Prime Minister Berlusconi.

7. Business and reality. No one denies that football is the most famous game in the world. FIFA is the global government, manages a business of broadcasting rights, image, tickets to the stadium, makes the rules, the referees put you (!!!) and stop counting. I wonder what the fate of those beautiful stadium?, Maybe there is already a plan with them, sure. But that would be good to know if finally, thanks to football and its machinery has been able to achieve the miracle that fewer children get up today without hunger in the land of Mandela.

8. The penalty that ended the illusion. If Asamoah Gyan hit the penalty against Uruguay, Ganhe not only passed the semis, but had achieved the miracle of producing with just a kick of joy when held on the African continent. Sometimes people need a moment of joy not to die of sadness.

My son of 15, already almost 16, is close to my laptop, look at the title of this post and makes a face like a sick father is still not over the world and he speaks in the past, as if everything had finished . In addition, he said, can not talk about what the world has left you because you do not know what will happen tomorrow.

“What will happen tomorrow ‘- resound in my head the last words of my son.

Yes, I think. I know very well what will happen tomorrow. There will be a final whistle, a glass raised amid a sea of red and orange shirts, and many people are saddened by the end of the tournament, mistakenly convinced with absolute certainties, that true joy is round, lasts a month and only live four years.

I, however, reread Vila-Matas, I will water my plants, take care of the birds nest in the green oregano, and wait for the night sitting on the terrace, with Drexler and a red wine.

Salud!