Al Fondo De La Red
( Enrique Macaya Marquez, comentarista deportivo):
- Que tal como les va,como andan, naturalmente la primera parte del programa ha concluido ustedes podran apreciar como mi voz se va fundiendo con el ascendente sonido del tambor en un tipico ritmo rioplatense para dar lugar posteriormente a la entrada de una armonica que nada tiene que ver con el futbol.
Por la forma de pararse,
En el medio de la cancha,
De matarla con el pecho,
De volar hasta la raya,
No se sabe con que pie,
Se les va a ir otra vez,
Con una agonia fugaz o sirviendo una pared.
Por la forma de pararla,
De apretarla contra el piso,
Levantando la cabeza,
Ganando el pique cortito,
No se sabe con que pie,
Los desbordara otra vez,
Al zaguero lateral a mis ojos que no creen.
Como quiebra la cintura y la razon,
Se acomoda en el aire el pajaro,
Para pintar ese gol al domingo.
Lerelelelelelelelereleleleleleleleooo!
Por la forma de cambiarla,
Sin hacer una de mas,
Con esa comba exquisita,
Que se anticipan al azar,
No se sabe con que pie,
Se les va a ir esta vez,
De las canillas del back,
A mis ojos que no creen.
Por la forma de pararse,
Para patear el penal,
Donde se lo juega todo,
Sin revancha ni refran
Ohhh.
No se sabe con que pie,
Se les va a ir esta vez,
Al zaguero lateral,
A mis ojos que no creen.
Como quiebra la cintura y la razon,
Se acomoda en el aire el pajaro,
Para pintar ese gol al domingo.
At the Bottom of the Net
(Enrique Macaya Marquez, sports commentator):
- How are you doing, how are you, naturally the first part of the program has concluded, you will be able to appreciate how my voice blends with the rising sound of the drum in a typical Rio de la Plata rhythm to later give way to the entrance of a harmonica that has nothing to do with soccer.
By the way he positions himself,
In the middle of the field,
Killing it with his chest,
Flying to the sideline,
You don't know which foot,
He will go past them again,
With a fleeting agony or playing a wall.
By the way he stops it,
Pressing it against the ground,
Raising his head,
Winning the short sprint,
You don't know which foot,
He will dribble past them again,
The side defender in my unbelieving eyes.
How he breaks the waist and reason,
The bird adjusts in the air,
To paint that goal on Sunday.
Lerelelelelelelelereleleleleleleleooo!
By the way he changes it,
Without doing one too many,
With that exquisite curve,
That anticipates chance,
You don't know which foot,
He will go past them this time,
From the shins of the defender,
To my unbelieving eyes.
By the way he positions himself,
To take the penalty kick,
Where he risks it all,
No rematch or saying,
Ohhh.
You don't know which foot,
He will go past them this time,
The side defender,
To my unbelieving eyes.
How he breaks the waist and reason,
The bird adjusts in the air,
To paint that goal on Sunday.