Viva Espana: El Jogo Bonito is alive

I have tears of joy. Watching Spain get over their mental block against their more heralded European rivals, doing it their way, playing beautiful, attacking soccer and finally winning what was rightfully theirs. There is a God occasionally and he chose the right time to be munificent.

There was Ballack his face streaked with congealed blood and the nonplussed Metzelder and Mertesacker, their faces frozen in disbelief and dismay, as they contemplated another championship without a title.

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