confess that I was one of the 10,000 people who filled the streets of San Sebastian on Saturday calling for autoderteminación and independence. I confess that supported the million-plus that manfestaban Catalans in Barcelona for the sovereignty of Catalonia. I confess I've always been in favor of the sports teams of Euskal Herria.
Until last Sunday.
How not to get excited about the heroic exploits of the players in the Red? How rojigualda obviate the tide that flooded the skin of bull? And above all, and if doubts remain, why not drop a tear and a "olé your balls and the mother who bore you "see the kiss that Iker Casillas slammed him to the Sara Carbonero?
Given this prodigy, widows, pensioners, unemployed, battered women, the mileuristas and other sufferers of Imperial Spain forget their petty cares and take to the streets in crowds singing the praises of these guys who, for a small premium, we unite as one has joined this blessed country from the Catholic Monarchs.
Please, please, Spain glorious re-admit me in your womb! "I regret my loss, and I know who, like me, the vast majority of Catalans, Hispanic (starting with the ungrateful Cubans) and even those of Flanders, are knocking on your door to give them permission to cry with pride: I'm English! "
