IC: I can’t stand being sanctioned!  I feel more useless than the forward line (“delantera” in Spanish) of Espanyol!

And speaking of “delanteras” (it also means tits)…

SC: Stop that Iker, you know that I’m very delicate.

NOT WITH THE GLOVES ON!

IC: Okay, okay, I’m taking them off, see?  There we go!  Off they go!

I’ll get it!

SC: Iker!  Take it easy!  That’s the third television you’ve broken since we started watching the game!

IC: I’m fed up!  There’s not even one paparazzi following us!  They’re probably with Piqué, since he’s sooo handsome…

SC: And with that idiot Shakira… waka waka bleh bleh…

IC: What have those two done to be cooler than us?

SC: Nothing.  Look!  The photo of Piqué and Shakira goes around the world.  His friend with the checked shirt (eldeloscuadros) is now a celebrity.  He’s known as “the one in the checked shirt.”

IC: Of course!  We have to do this!  We have to take a photo with the one in the checked shirt!

SC: Stop!

IC: It’s perfect!  But we can make it even better!

Come in, the one in the polka dots!

SC: Cool!  More, more!

IC: And the one in the stripes (“rayas”)!

SC: But that shirt is plain… ah, now I understand (“rayas” also means someone on drugs).

IC: And the one with the diamond pattern!  And the one with the kilt!  And the one in the tutu!  And the one in the Mexican hat!

And the one with the knife in his back!

Alright, we’re all here.  One, two, three, Madrid!

SC: How super!  We’ll be famous again!  Hey, who’s he?

IC: I don’t know, he didn’t appear in the photo!

G: Yes, yes, yes, yes ladies and gentlemen!  Madrid has just beaten Levante and now they’re only two points behind the Catalans.  Today we can say for sure that we are already the champions of the Liga.

JM: Guti, what are you doing here?  I don’t want former players in the locker room!

G: Hold your horses, I’m now a journalist.  “Serr” signed me up to be a commentator.  Weah!

JM: To comment on what?  The parties in Turkey?

G: Ese portugués, que gracioso es.

Watch and learn.  I’m going to interview Özil.  So Mamut, do you feel that we’re close to winning the Liga?

MO: Well… it’s still an open race.

CR: Why are you interviewing that ugly idiot?  Here, I’m the star.

G: Really?  Star?  What a beautiful name.  What are you doing tonight?  Are we going to have dinner or what?

CR: Come on Guti, can’t you interview anyone without trying to pick them up?  [Guti did that during an interview with a Turkish TV channel.]

G: I would even try to pick up the mummy of Tutankhamun.

Okay Cristiano, at which disco are we going to celebrate this victory against Levante?

CR: Well, we can go to…

JM: No, no, no.  No celebrating.  We have to focus because Lyon is very dangerous.

OM: Yes, the “Lyon” (sounds like león, Spanish for “lion”) is very dangerous, and the tiger as well!

G: Speaking of tigers, do you smell something bad?  (The expression for something smelling bad in Spanish uses the word for tiger – Guti says “aquí huele un poco de tigre?”)

CR: Tell me it’s not me, please, tell me!

JM: No!  It’s coming from inside there!  Inside this pipe!

CR: What is this?

CP: This smells worse than Queca’s room!  What is it, míster?

G: Don’t you know?  This is…

PG: … a communicating vessel, a pipe that connects…

G:  … the locker room of Madrid with that of Barcelona!

PG: You don’t know the theory of communicating vessels?

G: The theory goes that when Barça is playing well, Madrid plays like shit.

PG: And vice versa.  When they play well, all the shit comes to us.

G: Come in!  This is Sr. Canguelo (“canguelo” means something like fear).  Sr. Canguelo, these are Madrid’s players.  We’ve spent years together.  Pim pam pim pam, mierda viene, mierda va.

JM: But if the theory of the communicating vessels is true, what is this shit doing here today?

G: Nothing!  It’s not doing anything!  Because they (Barcelona) tied last week in the Liga and lost in the Champions, and we won tonight, this gentleman is going down the drain.

MO: See you later!

CR/JM: What are you saying, you idiot!

SB: We’ve been here for so long and we haven’t signed up this pipe?

Everyone:  It stinks!

CP: You must be…

PG: … Sr. Canguelo!

The shit has entered the locker room, and all because we didn’t win in Gijón or London, it’s all my fault!

CP: But míster, think about it, I didn’t play, I’m injured…

PG: But it’s still my fault, because I should have saved you…

CP: Don’t be stupid, cheer up!

PG: Yes, everything’s okay, it’ll all be over on Tuesday when I resign…

VV: It’s okay míster, the players want to help you, we’ve found a substitute for Puyol, Puyol II.

CP: Míster, since the thing that intimidates our rivals the most is my hair, we’ve put a wig on Keita.  I’m sure no one will notice the difference!

PG: Are you all stupid or what?  You shouldn’t have disguised someone who’s… a midfielder!

Don’t you see that this won’t work?  Sergio should play, he’s taller!

Listen Sergio, try not to commit fouls in the area, alright?

SB: Calm down míster, I’ll kick someone in the locker room so I won’t do it out on the field.

VV: I’m injured, my knee!!

PG: It’s my fault, it’s my fault Valdés, it’s my fault!

SK: Míster, míster!  If I’m not going to be Puyol, I can be Valdés!  I can!  Please!!

PG: What a disaster, I hope at least the Catalan press is with the team!

CP: Well, I don’t know what they’re saying…

Press: This is terrible…

PG: Boys, I’m very proud of you all.  You showed your character and you knew how to win… so maybe I won’t resign.

SB: Even though I gave away a penalty…

I’m finally warming up to this man and now he has to leave.

CP: Wait, wait!  Before you go, let’s take a photo together to remember the good times, because I think it will be a while before we see you again!

Great, now that we have the photo, I’ll post it on twitter and now I’ll have my own “eldeloscuadros,” it will be “eldelamierda.”  Give my best to your parents, the press of Madrid!