How it feels to be a final ...

The week has come, it has been a long long wait. Not only 3 weeks, but also 14 years, or 12 if you count that disastrous final in Athens. Emotions should be free flowing, uncontrollable, excitement, anticipation, fear, bravery, juxtaposition.



One tries to remember the process. The ritual before big games, as one would not like to change them in case, just in case the final result depends on your small change. Remember think clearly of the big day, how it was affronted, what one ate, what one wore, who one spoke to, who one thought of, how one slept, what one did the night before. It is just a blur though.

The Day (with a big D) is tomorrow and I have to admit, I got no emotions at all. Try to rationalism previous thoughts, previous tsunami's. Is there a tsunami in rising. Is the sea totally calm, can the salmon jump freely without any fear. Now I remember suddenly that on all Days my blood comes to a standstill, the veins are cold, the heart stops beating, the head is almost in a porridge like state, including the brain, one can't think clearly as there are too many thoughts at the time. Too many emotions at the time, from the tears of glory to the tears of sorrow. Then there is a slight hint of a lucidness, where one recalls the great team it is all in hands of, the marvelous players it is all down to and the blood slowly starts to run through the vein, the mind becomes a bit clearer and memories are rethought and relieved. However with the obvious comes the tsunami again, where legs don't move in the way they want to move, where the spin of thought is turned into a whirlwind, a hurricane at the top of the rectors, then slowly it is all back to the calm see where the salmon jumps to get a glimpse of the rain.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, what is there tomorrow.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, hope it will never arrive.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, where even the dying breed will resurrect.