Sensations forgotten that, overnight, and are reborn as if they never left. Like a song you loved and who, almost without realizing it, you stopped listening and files in memory, but the vengeful return more hidden station and listen just when riding in a taxi. As the winning lottery ticket you bought when you've not bothered to check the results of that lot, patiently waiting at the bottom of a drawer and comes in the midst of moving, carrying his direct number to the National Lottery website and your heart stops as you want-no-saw match each digit. As the output with friends, just when you had no desire to get so annoyed but you finished them by clicking the table in the bar and looks that intersect with the prettiest girl in the place, who at the end of the night gives you her number to ask her out. As the return of the kitten you thought lost, but purring battered, bruised and starving, that caresses against your legs to try to heal his wounded heart, and yours, after nights of missing him. As the scent of a perfume of the past coming out of an old letter evil in the most opportune moment, the only time that you could sustain without relapse or mourn. As the favorite childhood game that, centuries later, your brother down and runs smoothly on Windows Vista. There are things that are learned and never forgotten. I am so glad that one of those things is, in my case, playing FIFA, the FIFA beautiful, much more than a computer game, was a highly competitive sport that we practiced with the Emo until the small hours, hard, screaming every goal as if we were in the stadium, on the court, sweating as if we were actually kicking the ball, like we Roberto Idas, H. Smaiter or Sergio Van Vasquero. And now that I have on my machine, I took this perfect portal to go back in time 15 years, leaving aside the rust of my joints and back champions, back to despair when the ideal defense is not selected to the violent backlash against rival re-promote the most spectacular flown with the option of Goalkeepers Manual, remember that your home was called "Jaquitob" to Jakob Nielsen, Danish goalkeeper, as a child ... me right after the phrase coined "Vilandre play hard" long ago, every time the young Dutch midfielder tough to force a play of opposites, to feel the urge to beat Lopez Idas or when they come running towards the camera after scoring a goal and in my memory revives the "I deserve it" ... to feel the rivalry between the powerful Argentine forwards Pasualdo Alfios and each will not make the perfect pass to the other by his hunger to end the play ... Back to laugh at the clowns Janco Tiano, Joe Della-Savia, Peter North, Heini Lenhardt, switch back to the "Guach, conchenchadachoch!" the Uruguayan coach, to feel the scoring power of Arnold Deboer by defining as "world football player", although I realized that "simulation" really should be a player in world football to do that kind of goal-scoring return to those great goals of Chile ...
This, together with the GP1 of Microprose, have been my favorite games of all life. I remember the unparalleled sense of speed the first time you are up to the car at Spa Francorchamps and crossed the fast loop, just before the Bus Stop chicane ... I was afraid to go as fast, with the trees going absurdly fast behind the gate, and I highly concentrated, with clenched teeth, smack the A to the bottom to full throttle, the engine roared to limit ... (Also Space Invaders, Zaxxon, Digger, Frogger, the game that Mazinger, among others, had their moment of triumph) How I like to remember these things ... It's time to start having new memories, better than I can provide long hours at a computer, jugándome honor in the virtual world. Now I need to get enough of my head, what better to devote to travel to the past, when almost everything was happiness. Instead of these leaks should be easy to accept my age, I accept that time has passed and there are things that scream for my attention ... And will attend ... after returning to be the champion the mundooooooooo ...
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