This photo was taken by a photographer after the match against Watford in the UK bangmbala. I was a little dizzy if I won would definitely come better. That night a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions pervaded me, still shudder at the very thought. This is really my sport, my passion. Here the photographer's site http://www.marcburden.com/
was the right night at the end of a wrong time. Microfractures in the hands, tendonitis in his left foot and to make matters worse renal colic 4 days before the match, but I wanted to be there, I had to be there. Two consecutive defeats had dragged my poor morale in the ground. I felt unprepared and have little incentive not satisfied with what I was. Physically, full of infirmities. But the passion, the one that kept me awake night after the gym because every where the pain was felt, acute and disturbing. On the evening of the match for no apparent reason the pain disappeared, I was incredulous and ready to maximum. In a growing feeling of adrenaline approach my time, the last match. My opponent in a French still do not know the name. Luke rubbed me expertly before heating and Pylades with his advice to me from what I was missing is a real motivation. They say my name and feel my music. is the moment, it's my time. The match begins and lasts a few seconds, seconds in which my body did not think it has acted as never before. an animal instinct, pure and aggressive, has reinforced my hand, pouring on my opponent's anger for me until now unknown.
