So my friend Dave, who is an erstwhile contributor to the Page under the pseudonym Blog Reveiz, was born and raised in Cleveland until his family moved here while he was in elementary school. His dad is from Spain, and is one of the great soccer minds of the Twin Cities metro area. Hence, he is an unlikely melange of Timberwolves and Cavaliers fan, Indians and Browns fan, and Spanish soccer aficionado. (It is worth mentioning that his name is one letter away from David Villa's, the best player on the Spanish national team.) Thus, this was his past weekend.
Thursday, July 8, approximately 8:35 PM CDT: Heartbroken; Lebron James goes from being "The Chosen One" to "The Chosen One-Third" in Miami. May or may not have used his Lebron jersey to wipe his Paella-laden poopies from his behind.
Friday morning, July 9: Oddly optimistic; the Heat have to trade Michael Beasley to the Timberwolves in order to clear cap space to be able to sign, oh, 7 players.
Sunday, July 11, 3:30 CDT: Inebriatedly jubilant; the Spaniards along with his quasi-namesake claim the first World Cup title in their nation's history.
The lesson? As a Clevelandian-Minnesotan-Spanish-American, you win some, you lose most.
