Ante todo, decirles queridos lectores, que esta carta nunca va a ser leída, ni publicada por Juanderl, puesto que, cuando Floper tuvo noticia de su existencia, compró su silencio con obsequios que más adelante se mencionan.
Sólo disponemos de una copia, aparte de Juanderl, un servidor de ustedes y un amigo mío.
La única condición que me puso Juanderl para poder publicar la carta en este insigne blog madridista, fue que le dejara en paz de una puta vez (con perdón).
Luego se publicará en la web www.espectaculosunion.com y en la revista Escenarios.
A petición de una multitud de yoyeros, concretamente 3, aquí tienen el desgarrador testimonio de una injusticia.
First of all, I write this cart in English because this is an international success, a bomb of information, a tsunami for the newspapers, a terremot for the media, so hello Chipre, good morning New Zeland, good evening Paraguay and hola to my paisans of Peter Muñoz, to mention a few.
Second, I don’t admit questions. This is not a wheel press. This is the lecture of a cart.
This is a strange situation, things go very rapid. The other day, the Valdano show me the door, and I say, -Wait a moment Valdano, I have to clean the taquill. So I catch my chandal, the silbat, the garrapiñadas , the fotos firmed for my fans, the mus carts, pass the vaporetta to the curtains and phone my wife with very emotion, - Marisa bonita, I am in the market!, and she says me –Pues tráeme una berenjena, una botella lejía, y una bolsa de patatas Lays al punto de sal. Poor Marisa I think, I will explain to her in the house.
So I go to say goodbye to the futbolists, the Raul, the Iker, the Lass, the Klass, the Drentez, and the other negros y tal. I see one of them sleeping and ronquing in the grass with a peluch. It is the Flamber. And another playing with a hulahoop and some barbies, the Guti. Fuck them!.
It is not just. My trayectory is modelic. The 2-6? Bah! All I can say is we had bad luck because the 6 gols of the Barsa came in momentos clave, in the minutes 17, 20, 35, 58 ,75 and 83, and this are minutes very clave. I now use this numbers to do the Primitive.
We did a brillant defensive work, because the Etol didn’t do a goal, and that is very important.
The 4-0 of the Liverpul? Again the bad luck, because the gols were in the minute 16, 28, 47, and the most important, one gol in the 88, when you cannot remontate. A lastim.
But apart of this two partits, my numbers in the Liga are fantastic. We go to Bilbao? We win, we go to Sevilla? We win, we go to Numancia….adivin, Ok you are correct, we win.
So I passed extraordinary moments, because every spanish when is born, has two deseys, or to be in the Real Madrid, or to be torero. I have cumplit one and the other casi because I live with my suegra who is like a cow.
Concretizing. When I was putting the chandal, I listen a voice like a priest of the Opus and think –Tate Juanderl, que vienen a confesarte- But it was the Florentin coming with the Pelegrin, and says –Juanderl ,this is the new entrenator. Now the Valdano will show you the door. -But Florentin I have glamur, I have the nojau, I have the metod, do you want I sing the igno?-
Quiá! I am out, in the market.
He give me some regals for the finiquit, the Audil Cucinco, que corre la hostia, and a pair of chanclets with the Real Madrid escut in every finger. Where you put the big finger, there is a big escut, and where you put the little there is the little escut. I reserve them when I go to Benidorm to vacilate.
Then I saw the Boluda, I call him Lo Vicentet. You know? He gave me a white american and a pajarit, and told me: Tomorrow you come to my yate, and spend a couple of hours in my bar dear Juanderl, don’t forget to put this american and the pajarit.
And I think: Wow, I am invited to Vicentet yate, and with the uniform of the Madrid executives.
Total, I go, and when Vicentet with his captain gorra, see me, he salutes me and puts a servillet in my arm and says me, Now, Juanderl you are in the barra and every time one of these girls ask you a coztel, you do and serve. Here are the instructions.
Well that was not what I expected. But I drank 2 cocacolas and fire some petards when everydody was sleeping. Que jodío!
Anyways, here I am. I have oferts of the Gatarasalay, At.Celaya, and others, but my representant has offer me to the Ray Vallecane, because I am near the Madrid por si el Pelegrin fracasate. Ahí estaré yo. Juanderl. And ojito que if Del Bosque makes the big cagarrow in the Mundial, who will knocking at the door? Yes, the Juanderl.
Ok, I don’t entertain you more.
With tears in my eyes and temblor hands I say goodbye. Me the Juanderl. Me the man who revolution the futbol.
Bye. Gos bled you.
sábado, 6 de junio de 2009