It's a fine line between winning and losing. As uplifting as the triumph can be, the pain of defeat is abasing, yet attractive. The balance of power is established in the blink of an eye. Carrying the burden of a lifetime while chances are few. Yet one will take it in the end – the one that fights, controls, dominates, possesses. But at present everything is still open - open-ended and open for all to see. Images to outlive the protagonists and to keep records of the fashion of the times. Welcome to the Amateur World Cup!
The going gets tough with only one more step to take. While the odds-on favourites stay untouchable, ruthlessly exposing the weakness of their rivals, eagerly waiting to pounce on the final gap in the defence and inflict the mortal wound, the underdog fights until the bitter end. It's exciting, thrilling, yet each new blow is only captured for the delectation of the punishers themselves. When the sky's the limit you kiss the ground.... Congratulations! Game over, all of you!
Entering the scene under the canopy of triumph. But pride goes before a fall - a bitter one, being forced to bear the humiliation of the superior power on its knees. Certainty bouncing off see-through armour. Joy turning into torment and back into joy in a flawless process of mortification. In the end heritage cannot be brushed off like a mere nothing.
Never before have they met. Neither has ever gone that far before. And yet they are willing to push things further - to do more than scratch the surface of agony. Stripping off the paralysis of the impossible, they fight until their wounds spit blood. Who will win? The side that deals it out, or the side that takes it? The one that lets the sadist sign the ticket to the final round on its back.
It's been years since they met. Confronting each other - facing a last chance to strip off the outworn image created by their legends. Wild yet considerate, passionate yet distant. A hot-blooded body doubling over - weakened under the eyes of the pallid. Punished one more time, forced to swallow both its own pride and the winner's exuberant euphoria.
They speak, feel, touch and love in the same words. But what if the action itself makes no difference? Equality would be more repellent than domination, providing images too obscene to even imagine. In the end, only one will stand there – with no-one to stand it.
They've never been loved for their beauty. But what is the value of beauty if you have come to dominate everybody else? Suddenly, in an unguarded moment, they were dragged down, their pride snatched by the underdog. Walked over even before they could take to their heels, forced to taste the other's bitterness.
Life is unfair. No matter how long the two battled it out - fighting passionately for the goal that both loved and only one could reach - in the end the unscrupulous made the weak fall to their knees. But losing will be borne with pride, leaving us with an unfinished thought: "Do people really get what they deserve?"