I went last thursday to Madrid with my two sons and my wife. My sons had to take an airplane to Chicago, and their parents decided to expend two days in Toledo (worth a visit), which is close to Madrid. Today I come back and the clever guy has a new jersey (unofficially), the french fries are cold, the Cid´s corpse is back to fight for Minnesota, the king´s head has been cut off, and there´s no JD!!!! I can not leave you alone!

Perhaps those were not 75 words, so I´m covering One Art.

The art of losing players isn't hard to master;

so many players seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose someone every season. Accept the pain

of losing Roy, his knees badly spent.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

forwards, and centers, those who were you meant

to trade for. None of these will bring disaster.

We lost our one in a generation center. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of two loved Spanish players went.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

We lost two GMs, lovely ones. And, vaster,

one president, hundred Bedgers, a coach.

I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you Tom (the crazy joke , a humor

I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident

the art of losing's not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.