Theres Luis, injured in the last Liverpool match before the World Cup, looking stricken, like something more important than a game had been stolen. Theres Luis under television lights, struggling to explain what he feels inside. He told the reporter he cannot stand to miss even a single ball because that might cost him everything he has built. His rage and love arise from this fear. Watch him. Theres Luis, in a normal tussle for position, wheeling around and biting an opponent. He headbutts an official, and the mans nose bleeds like a cow. Hes showing his house to a reporter, and it overflows with plush stuffed animals, the children in charge of decor. He tugs at his sleeves walking into his first news conference at Liverpool, nervous, out of place, looking like a little boy. He walks onto the pitch before a game, holding his young daughters hand, cradling his sleeping son, and, in the public madness of a stadium, his hopes and fears remain his alone. Such a good read.
Posted on: Fri, 27 Jun 2014 04:25:25 +0000
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