”LI­FE’S A GA­ME OF IN­CHES”

Ta­len, som To­ny D’Ama­to le­ve­re­de den til si­ne spil­le­re fra Mi­a­mi Sharks før play­of­f­kam­pen mod Dal­las Knights.

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”I don’t know what to say, re­al­ly. Three mi­nu­tes ’til the big­gest batt­le of our pro­fes­sio­nal li­ves. It all co­mes down to to­day.”

”Eit­her we he­al as a team or we’re gon­na crum­b­le. Inch by inch, play by play, ’til we’re fi­nis­hed.”

”We are in hell right now, gent­le­men. Be­lie­ve me. And we can stay he­re, get the shit ki­ck­ed out of us, or we can fight our way ba­ck in­to the light. We can climb out­ta hell. One inch at a ti­me.”

”Now, I can’t do it for you. I’m too old. I look aro­und, I see the­se yo­ung faces, and I think... I me­an, I ma­de eve­ry wrong choi­ce a mid­dle-aged man can ma­ke. I pis­sed away all my mo­ney, be­lie­ve it or not. I cha­sed off any­o­ne who has ever lo­ved me. And la­te­ly I can’t even stand the face I see in the mir­ror.”

”You know, when you get old in li­fe, thin­gs get ta­ken from you. That’s part of li­fe. But you on­ly learn that, when you start lo­sing stuff. You find out, li­fe’s a ga­me of in­ches. So is foot­ball. Becau­se in eit­her ga­me, li­fe or foot­ball, the mar­gin for er­ror is so small. I me­an, one half of a step too la­te or too ear­ly, and you don’t qui­te ma­ke it. One half second to slow or too fast and you don’t qui­te catch it. The in­ches we ne­ed are eve­rywhe­re aro­und us. They are in eve­ry bre­ak of the ga­me, eve­ry mi­nu­te, eve­ry second.”

”On this team we fight for that inch. On this team we tear our­sel­ves and eve­ry­o­ne el­se aro­und us to pie­ces for that inch. We claw with our fin­ger­nails for that inch. Becau­se we know, when we add up all tho­se in­ches, that’s gon­na ma­ke the fuck­ing dif­fe­ren­ce be­twe­en win­ning and lo­sing! Be­twe­en li­ving and dying!”

”I’ll tell you this: In any fight it’s the guy who is wil­ling to die, who is gon­na win that inch. And I know if I’m gon­na ha­ve any li­fe any­mo­re it’s becau­se I’m still wil­ling to fight and die for that inch. Becau­se that’s what li­ving is. The six in­ches in front of your face.”

”Now, I can’t ma­ke you do it. You got­ta look at the guy ne­xt to you, look in­to his ey­es. Now, I think you’re gon­na see a guy who will go that inch with you. You are gon­na see a guy who will sa­cri­fi­ce him­self for this team, becau­se he knows, when it co­mes down to it, you’re gon­na do the sa­me for him.”

”That’s a team, gent­le­men. And eit­her we he­al now, as a team, or we will die as in­di­vi­du­als.”

”That’s foot­ball, guys. That’s all it is. Now... What are you gon­na do?”

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