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1997年10月17日星期五天气:下着小雨输了,1比4。中国和伊朗的两场比赛结束了。噩梦才刚刚开始。伊朗比中国时间要晚几个小时吧!此时,大约是伊朗时间晚上9点钟。这个时候,国脚们在做什么?想家吗?郝海东或许在想他襁褓中的幼子,范志毅或许在想他温婉的娇妻,此刻,也只有思念才能多少慰藉一下他们被失败撕裂的心。我知道他们也一样受着煎熬、他们也是血肉之躯、也有羞耻之心,他们心情更迫切、压力更大、支撑得更艰难……我什么都知道,我也试图用这些来说服自己容忍失败,然而我没能。拿着笔,对着日记,长久、长久的沉默。我无法挣脱对失败的痛恨。没有眼泪,也不必再祈祷,从伊
Friday, October 17, 1997 WEATHER: Light drizzle, 1: 4. Two games between China and Iran are over. Nightmare has just begun. Iran is a few hours later than China! At this time, it is about 9 o’clock in the evening of Iranian time. This time, the international are doing? Homesick? Hao Haidong may be thinking of his wandering son, Fan Zhiyi may be thinking of his gentle wife, at the moment, but also only how much can we comfort the heart of the tears they were defeated . I know they are also suffering, they are flesh and blood and shame, they feel more urgent, more pressure and more difficult to support ... I know everything and I try to convince myself to tolerate failure , But I can not. Holding a pen, facing the diary, long, long silence. I can not get rid of the hatred of failure. No tears, nor prayer, from Iraq