Our Father, Who Art in Heaven…

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Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. You just sneaked on us, Kaka and I, as we said our respective prayers. While I am Catholic and Kaka, as you may have guessed, is Evangelical, our Christianity unites us. Normally I prefer a papal-nonintervention policy when it comes to sports, but tomorrow, at the San Siro, I have asked for divine intervention.

I am not asking for a victory – do not call me greedy. No, I am merely asking for a respectable performance with a bit of grit. After the embarassment at the Bernabeu, I merely want the players to step off the pitch with their head held high and their jersey covered in sweat. My request is reasonable.

Kaka is delusional. After the love-hate-love affair with City, he jumped ship for Madrid. And he wants to be well received in Milan? Highly unlikely.

I must give respect where respect is due – Leonardo, after early struggles, has found his starting eleven. Pirlo drops back, Ambrosini wins the balls, Seedorf and Dinho spin some creative magic, and Borriello and Pato score goals. It sounds so simple, yet this formula evaded the Brazilian’s cognitive grasp early on. I wish Pellegrini would take a page from his book.

The backline has turned into an assembly line, Higuain cannot get an honest shake, and Mr. Kaka has looked impotent without Ronaldo to draw double teams. Lass and Xabi have things in control in the center, and Casillas is an institution, but the four crucial attacking slots have not solidified.

I pray for the best, expect the worst, and bet on the fence.

2 thoughts on “Our Father, Who Art in Heaven…

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