I was never able to tell these things in my theater group rehearsals. There we did Lorca and Oscar Wilde. The most disturbing thing about that entertaining adolescence in my Asturias of the soul was having the suspicion that to my teammates on the soccer team I must be something manfloritu, and for my colleagues in the independent theater - so reluctant to worldly inclinations - a defective artist doomed to leave the stage to live, at most, off the luck of some quinielist club. So I inevitably felt that, sooner or later, I would have to make a decision, grab the ball by the handle and choose "as an adult", between "artists" or "footballers", between Quini or Pirandello, between Lear or the beautiful game.
Aquí os dejo una intro sobre mi nuevo libro «Lear or the King of Sport» del que podéis leer un adelanto en el diario «The New Spain«.
You can also buy it from right here in the publishing house KO books.
I hope you like it!
