There are people who insist on doing what they think is right even though everything shows them that this does not get glory or applause. It is a heroic way of living. In To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus Finch, a lawyer representing Tom, a black man accused of having committed a crime in the United States of the 30s, knows that he will not win the case but also that his client is innocent and that the right thing is to defend him: "Courage is not a man with a gun," says Finch. It's knowing you're at a disadvantage before you start, but you start anyway (...) One is brave when, knowing that the battle is lost, one tries in spite of everything and fights to the end (...) You rarely win, but sometimes you win." Although I don't understand the art of football, in that world – where winning at any price seems to be all that matters – dwells a man I listen to. He speaks little. He says, "Human beings occasionally triumph. But they usually develop, fight, strive and win very occasionally"; "I'm a specialist in failures and I know that adhesions are lost when success ends." After the Argentine team was eliminated in the first round of the Japan-Korea 2002 World Cup, that man, who was Marcelo Bielsa, their coach, said "I starred in the greatest failure of Argentine football", starring in the strange case of someone who recognizes: "I failed". Last week the selection of Uruguay, in which he debuted as a coach, scored four goals against Nicaragua. After the game he said, modestly: "I'm not saying that the preparation was noticed, but it was enough." There is a poem by Mark Strand: "Everyone has reasons/ to move,/ I move to/ keep things strong." Bielsa could be the embodiment of those verses. When those who are willing to lose, but to lose in their law, win, something settles in an imprecise place in the universe.
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