A Quote by Willy Caballero

I talked with Manuel Pellegrini before he left Malaga. I knew of his intention to take me with him to Manchester City. But I was unsure whether he would stick with the same keepers he had already.
Manuel Pellegrini had convinced me to go with him to Manchester City. I was doing very well at Malaga, but I accepted.
The most beautiful moments of my career were under Manuel Pellegrini in Malaga, where we achieved big things and we made Malaga's name known around Europe.
I knew Manuel Pellegrini from my time in Spain. I'd only heard good things about him, that he was someone who instilled the confidence in his players to go out and play good, attacking football.
[Pablo] Picasso was born in my hometown, in Málaga, so I have this of strange connection with his persona and with what he did. He left Málaga, practically at the same time and age that I did.
All the coaches I've had have been important for me, whether it was Joel Muller at Metz, Rolland Courbis at Marseille, Manuel Pellegrini at Villarreal or Roger Lemerre with Les Bleus. All of them were important along the way, and each of them had faith in me and let me play.
I was better than certain players at Manchester City but I was left on the bench. Before I left the club, I told the people in charge that they would regret letting me go.
His gaze burned into mine, like he could see past my eyes into parts of me no one had ever seen, and I knew I was seeing the same in him. No one else had ever seen him so vulnerable before, like if I pushed him away, he might crumble into pieces that could never be put together again. Yet there was strength, too. He was strong beneath that fragile need, and I knew that I could never fall with him next to me. If I tripped, he would catch me. If I lost my balance, he would find it.
I wanted to touch him, to tell him that even if everyone left everyone, I would never leave him, he talked and talked, his words fell through him, trying to find the floor to his sadness.
Imagine if Lin-Manuel Miranda had tried to do 'Hamilton' first in Hollywood. They would have told him, 'The forefathers weren't Latino or black. They didn't speak in hip hop.' That would never had gotten going in Hollywood ever. But theater let Lin-Manuel him do it, and he created an incredible masterpiece.
Or perhaps a widow found him and took him in: brought him an easy chair, changed his sweater every morning, shaved his face until the hair stopped growing, took him faithfully to bed with her every night, whispered sweet nothings into what was left of his ear, laughed with him over black coffee, cried with him over yellowing pictures, talked greenly about having kids of her own, began to miss him before she became sick, left him everything in her will, thought of only him as she died, always knew he was fiction but believed in him anyway.
David Rouse, a goalkeeping scout for Manchester City, came over for maybe a week in October. He was an awesome guy. He showed me what kind of club they were like. We talked about Manchester City. He watched me and watched a game.
I'm really happy that West Ham and Manuel Pellegrini have given me a chance to be playing again.
Here, take this, she would say, take this, and tell me where he is. Tell me whether he's dead or alive, so I can walk as his widow or his wife. No one would, or could, tell her, and so she continued to cook, and to learn new things all the while searching for an answer among the outcasts. The way he carried his body, the way he walked in my life, Tatiana thought, declared that he was the only man I had ever loved, and he knew it. And until I was alone without him, I thought it was all worth it.
Before I had a son, I used to look at my father's example: he left me, he left my mother. When I had a son, I got caught in the same situation that his mother don't want me to see him. I started looking at my father in a different light.
Manchester is obviously is a huge footballing city with Manchester City and Manchester United there - and I really like this accent because my agent is also from Manchester and my girlfriend's family is from Manchester.
I could tell by his expression that once he got over his anger at me for keeping this secret from him, there was nothing left to talk about. He wasn't confused. He didn't need questions answered. He didn't ask why or how or with whom or whether I thought maybe it might just be a phase. He didn't ask who knew and who didn't know or whether I thought it might ruin my career. I was his sister and he didn't care whether I was straight or gay; it simply didn't matter to him.
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