Webmd Liver Disease More Condition_symptoms

Four Steps ... by Ben - episode Thirty Four

That year, the Medlar, was organized a tennis tournament.

is played on a rink with a floor made of tiles.

was eliminated in the quarterfinals in singles, doubles was paired with Gianluca, and we had a wonderful tournament.

passed the first rounds without any problems and landed in the semifinals, the couple was waiting for us when my brother a militant Mauro, along with Robert, another boy in the country. For the values \u200b\u200bexpressed that was the real final. And for me it was a derby in the family.

the evening semi-final we played brilliantly, and after a thrilling game, and I Gianluca we won and we went in the final, where he was waiting for a couple formed by two boys against whom we had ever won before.

seemed a formality but instead did not.

The match began in the best way and we won with no problem The first set: 6-2.

look easy, and instead began to miss the simplest things, especially Gianluca,

went into crisis.

ran for him and began to experience fatigue, and a certain nervousness.

miss the second set: 7-5.

The third set was balanced until my feet would carry her, then capitulated. Gianluca was in the field physically, but mentally and combined to no good, had gone completely doll and all my attempts were in vain to shake him. And to think he was bigger than me!

We lost that game badly.

I could not digest that defeat, because we were actually better than the others, but we could not win. That night I could not sleep.

The next morning, by bus, Cecilia saw at once something was wrong and inquired:

"What an ugly wax you this morning. What did you do last night? "

" Nothing in particular. I slept little, indeed, I did not sleep at all. "

" Why? "

" I went to a Brazilian women! "I said.

He laughed because he knew that was not true.

Then I continued:

"I'm playing unbelievable," and so I told her everything.

She said

"He was the Wimbledon tournament?"

"No."

"Roland Garros?"

"No."

"International Roma?"

" No. "

" So, what the hell was the tournament? "he asked again.

"Del Nespolo," I replied.

"But you go to make a turn, the tournament Nespolo, who knows what I thought," and thus emphasizing and playing down those expressions, he managed to let me know that, deep down, I had not lost anything important, and not worth taking it so much.