Sleeping with the enemy
Considering I was born in Santa Clara, my wife in Jovellanos and my offspring in Vedado, I have come to the disturbing conclusion that in baseball terms I'm sleeping with the enemy and raising a traitor. So I tend to be an extremist... I know it's a bad time to come out and confess my tortuous Orange prediction: Villa Clara, the team I love and suffer from childhood because of his current executioner, has left me wanting once more. I should be used to but not... The problem is that one can change faiths, ideologies, tastes, habits, women, airs, but never teams. No matter how many times thou forsake him, you end up forgiving him, and each time you renew your faith that “this year yes, this is good.” One takes these things too seriously, as if your identity, your moral and human integrity depended not on you, but on the performance of strangers, they don’t know you or get a heart attack like you after an infamous move and a bad running, or losing a game . That masochism always reminds me the movie A Bronx Tale when Sonny told the young Calogero: "If your father can not pay...