Transcript · Spanish → English
Exciting Football Match Commentary
José says, "Ours, ours. Haven't you seen it today?
It's right in front of you, for fuck's sake.
Fuck, it's right in front of you. No, he's the one who has to see it.
"He's the one who has to see it." With that look.
And he shakes his hand.
Toñaco sees the referee coming and calls him out: "Hey,
hey. Speak respectfully. Respect. Respect."
Speak respectfully.
Respect.
José gives the order. He has just decreed the release of the
White
Queen. Jude, who sees him go into a trance,
cracks a smile. He already knows. We're
in for one of those samba nights.
Isidro, seeking peace, calls Juan and Toñaco, and they put on
quite a performance. Toñaco appears staring into space.
He wants nothing to do with that man.
He wants no eye contact, nor physical contact.
He listens,
but he doesn't look.
Juan, who is watching closely, plays the ally card
with the ref: "Look at him. What's wrong with him?"
"Look at him." And Toñaco: "Yeah, yeah, I'm listening."
Thump, thump, thump, thump. There are things only geniuses can do.
Federico, at full speed,
finds that pass. Jan,
the boy running excitedly, already knows what it's like to score a goal
for Real Madrid.
On the touchline, José, who's absolutely fuming, sees that
someone says something to him, so he points with his little finger and makes that
gesture.
Careful opening your mouth. "I'm going
fucking crazy, man." Real Mo for life, baby.
Oh, oh, oh, there he goes.
Vini Junior gets the ball. The charge begins.
Jude, like a colt seeking freedom, wild and unstoppable.
He runs until he finds his partner and unleashes the jubilation.
José can't contain himself and starts running. Madridistas revel in the chaos,
until they realize something has happened.
That hand
and those curls. "Come on,
get out," Pau tells Vini Junior as Cardona
tangles with
Khedira and pulls the "cry now" move on him.
Jude, who nearly faints, is picked up by Bernardo from the
ground, and Vini, who cries to the heavens, "Why do you
do that?"
gets carried away on the way to the locker room.
Suddenly, everyone has something to say.
Jude, who sees and likes another great pass from Federico to
Kylian,
goes over to acknowledge his captain and his versatility.
"You're very good.
Good at everything, really good at everything."
Further back, Toñaco, who watches Gerard's performance,
takes note and says something like: "Referees like that are
bad,
because you too, there..."
. Hay días en los que uno ya no sabe dónde
to look.
Foul on Mbappé,
writhing in pain when suddenly a sniper has shot José.
Soldiers, there's another casualty. Mo, seized by
excitement and rage, has fallen in battle.
"Enough of this fucking shit."
This is madness. Kylian gets booked for not taking it
and he
tells Isidro, "I don't care, whatever,
whatever." And Isidro says, "Oh, yeah? Then one more minute."
And Militao, "Three, give him three." Until the
match ends, and Jude feels like partying.
Isidro starts the parade. The booing begins.
And Bellingham gets cheeky, "Come on, it was
awful," asking the Coliseum to pass judgment,
pointing with that thumb,
asking for much more noise.
End of transcript · 536 words · machine translated
Original transcript (Spanish)
José dice: "Nostra, nuestra. ¿No has visto hoy? Está delante tuyo, joder. Joder, es delante tuyo. No, es él que tiene que ver. Es él que tiene que ver". Con esa mirada. Y le da la mano.
Toñaco ve venir al árbitro y le llama la atención: "Ey, ey. Habla con respeto. Respect. Respecto". Habla con respeto. Respect. José da la orden. Acaba de decretar la liberación de la
Reina Blanca. Jude, que le ve entrar en trance, esboza una sonrisa. Él ya lo sabe. Estamos ante una de esas noches de samba. Isidro, en busca de paz, llama a Juan y a Toñaco y se
marcan tamaña performance. Toñaco aparece mirando a la nada. No quiere saber nada de ese hombre. No quiere contacto visual, tampoco físico. Él escucha, pero no mira.
Juan, que sí observa atentamente, se tira la del aliado con el referí: "Mirá cómo está. ¿Qué le pasa? Miralo". Y Toñaco: "Sí, sí, escucho". Tun, tun, tun, tun. Hay cosas que solo están a la altura de los genios. Federico, en pleno vuelo,
encuentra ese pase. Jan, el niño que corre emocionado, ya sabe cómo es eso de marcar un gol con el Real Madrid. En la banda, José, que está ya que echa humo, ve que alguien le dice algo, así que señala con el dedito y tira ese
gesto. Cuidadito con abrir la boquita. "Voy po carallo, pa". Real Mo for life, baby. Ay, ay, ay, allá va. Coge la pelota Vini Junior. Comienza la galopada.
Jude, cual potro en busca de la libertad, desbocado e imparable. Corre hasta encontrar al socio y desbordar la algarabía. José no se aguanta y echa a correr. El madridismo goza en el caos, hasta que se dan cuenta de que algo ha sucedido. Esa mano
y esos rizos. "Venga, al carrer", le dice Pau a Vini Junior mientras Cardona se enzarza con Khedira y le hace la de a llorar ahora. A Jude, que casi le da un vahído, le levanta Bernardo del
suelo y a Vini, que clama al cielo un "¿por qué tú haces eso?", se le va la mano de camino al vestuario. De repente, todo el mundo tiene cosas que decir. Jude, que ve gusta otro gran pase de Federico a
Kylian, se acerca a reconocer a su capitán y su polivalencia. "Eres muy bueno. De todo, buenísimo de todo". Más atrás, Toñaco, que ve la performance de Gerard,
toma nota y le comenta algo en plan: "Los árbitros así son malos, porque tú también, ahí" . Hay días en los que uno ya no sabe dónde mirar.
Falta a Mbappé, que se retuerce de dolor cuando de repente un francotirador ha disparado a José. Soldados, hay otra baja. Mo, preso de la excitación y la rabia, ha caído en combate. "Ya vale de joder".
Esto es la locura. Kylian se lleva una amarilla por no sacar y le dice a Isidro: "Me da igual, da igual, igual". E Isidro: "Ah, ¿sí? Pues un minuto más". Y Militao: "Tres, dale tres". Hasta que acaba el
partido y a Jude el cuerpo le pide marcha. Isidro comienza el desfile. Empiezan los pitos. Y Bellingham, que se pone picante: "Dale, fue horrible", le pide al Coliseo que dicte sentencia, señalando con ese dedo pulgar,
pidiendo mucho más ruido.
