La vieja contra el Dibu

The judge thought it was funny. He gave the kid a choice: two years behind bars, or get his mother to score a goal against the best goalkeeper in the world. The kid chose his old lady, he didn’t even think twice. So the judge signed off on the fine print: 30 penalty kicks, one per day. And if none of them go in, the kid will no longer get two years. He’ll be sentenced to death. No one asked the old lady, who’s sixty years old and has never even kicked a football. Nor did they tell Dibu that on

The judge thought it was funny. He gave the kid a choice: two years behind bars, or get his mother to score a goal against the best goalkeeper in the world. The kid chose his old lady, he didn’t even think twice. So the judge signed off on the fine print: 30 penalty kicks, one per day. And if none of them go in, the kid will no longer get two years. He’ll be sentenced to death. No one asked the old lady, who’s sixty years old and has never even kicked a football. Nor did they tell Dibu that on the other side there was a woman. Or maybe they did, and that’s why he agreed. He waits for her every morning between the posts. He talks to her. He makes fun of her. He dances. She shows up every morning nonetheless.