Real Madrid are words that are in my life. Real Madrid means triumph in victory and triumph in loss. Real Madrid is history, it is the day-to-day and it is what will happen, it is endless longing and endless expectation. It is courage, to overcome the rest and also itself, to overcome loss, to overcome victory. Real Madrid is the “at least” of a bad day and the “but” of a good day. It is suffering, it is loyalty and hope. It is Sunday afternoons and Monday mornings, it is something to talk about, something to converse over, it is something to share with many people. Real Madrid is a global idea, something that is worth all the effort. It is Bernabéu and Di Stefano, it is Chamartín and Cibeles, is it the green of the grass, it is pipes, it is cigars. It is smiles and applause, it is tears and whistles, it is joy and sadness, it is throats and voices. Real Madrid is not the goal scored, it is the next one. It is Madrid, Spain, Europe and the World. It is sport and spectacle. Real Madrid is eleven artists and eleven warriors. It is envy and admiration, it is relevant whether you hate or love it. Real Madrid does not leave one unconcerned. It is values and ideas, compromise and union. It is dreams and reality. There is one Real Madrid and there are many. Real Madrid is every person who makes it a part of their life, those who can see and do not stop watching, those who want to see but cannot watch. It is everyone and no one. It is more than football. It is sometimes an excuse and other times a reason. It was monarchy, republic, dictatorship and never stopped being democracy. It was first and it was second, it is leader without being champion. It is sporting heroes and kids from Madrid. It is front page news, hours of radio and television, it is the eternal debate and the nonexistent conclusion. It is, above all, ambition. It is the grandfather we all wish to have. Real Madrid was yesterday, it is today and it will be tomorrow. Real Madrid are words that I still do not know how to express.