Right now, at this crazy hour in the night, my chest is a river of emotion, as memories of that June day in 1986 flood in. I was there. I stood right next to him with 120,000 people chanting on. Yes, I was there! The world cup in his hands, and me, yelling in his ear, D-I-E-G-O!!! Nothing in the world can verbalize or express how I feel and where my heart goes when I watch Diego play.
It's the middle of the night and I am taking a bath of nostalgia. I am happy. I want to wake up my 8 month old boy and take him out to the front yard and show him a few of Daddy's soccer moves before he's old enough to realize that Daddy doesn't really have any soccer moves. Boys will be boys.
Te amo, Diego.