Each one looks for his way and his conveniences, the footprint that hearts must leave to conquer their actions and function.
Can you imagine a Miguel Herrera without major scandals on his back? What would happen today with Miguel, if he had never kicked on the ground and being a player, that supporter of the Lion who “annoyed” him at the end of the game? El Piojo is an expert in hitting and rubbing, his big problem is that after rubbing, he hits again and leaves; as in the press conference after the Netherlands eliminated him, with credentials and justice, in Brazil: “His first goal is our carelessness, but if the referee conditions you and then invents a penalty, you leave the World Cup due to circumstances biased arbitrations. How long would his cycle have been at the head of the National Team, if he had not slapped Martinoli at that airport? Why didn’t Miguel find an adjective other than “fucking” in that mixed zone, to refer to the referee right in the middle of the campaign to eradicate that cry? What would Piojo be today if he didn’t hold the record for being the most expelled coach in the history of Liga MX?
If the group, thinking of Miguel, would remember the championship against Cruz Azul, through courage and tenacity; his overflowing, genuine and tender joy to celebrate the goal against Croatia; his Eagles to the test of everything, and always ready to return from the most adverse score; instead of his constant disrespect, Miguel Herrera would undoubtedly be one of the most beloved characters in the history of Mexican soccer, but no: “I am like that, explosive and hot,” he declared to Fox Sports, hours after being dismissed from the Mexican National Team.
Marc Crosas thought “the red ones for Diente and Miguel Herrera were incredible”. He complained about the desire for prominence and the lack of criteria of Fernando Hernández. A sad future has a press that protects and pampers the guilty, that puts the “handsome” and the friend in front of the microphone, before the prepared one.