Hi, i want you guys help me to correct the translation of this story: The kids were playing soccer, they didn't pass the six years old of age, but the game was serious: uniforms, official t-shirts, referees. Both teams were similar in the quality of the game. In the first half, any team scores a goal, because the kids were a little bit clumsy in their way of playing...they felt down without any physic contact, they kick the air instead of the ball, they bumped between each other every time they want to ran, but they didn't care about that, the important thing is that they were having fun. In the second half, the coach of the blue team, in order that those who were warming the bench could play, change all the inicial formation except for one, the best, whom was the goalkeeper. On the other hand, the coach of the red team who was concerned only in the victory, decided to mantain the initial formation of its team, having an extra advantage because of the rival substitutes. The red team scores the first goal of the game, and then another, in spite of the braveness of the blue team, who threw himself trying to avoid more goals, he kept two more shots with a destiny of goal. Desperated he begins to shout to their co-players, runing madly, trying to anticipate every movement of the oponents. Suddendly in of his anticipations the red team scores the third goal. From the border line of the soccer field, the father of the little goalkeeper was supporting him. But after that third goal, the poor kid was convinced he was useless. In that way, his father who was suffering with him, tried to calm down cheering him that those things happens but he never have to surrender. After the fourth goal, the little warrior cannot resist and the tears begin to drop. His father looked how he falls on his knees in the field, cannot resist also, he didn't care about the people who was watching, he interrupt the game and ran where his son was. He took the kid in their arms, he hugs and kiss him....and cries with him. He took him away of the field and said : -You don't imagine how proud about you!. You played as you never played! I want the world know you're my son! - I failed, dad! -the kid says sobing- I tried to stop all the goals, but i failed! - Son, no matter how goals they can score. You're still being my son. Now I want you to return to your position and finish the game. They're going to score more goals, but that doesn't matter! Go! Armed with braveness, the little kid returns to the field and they scored two more goals, but all was fine. It doesn't hurts him like before. To all of us, they score goals every day. We did useless efforts to avoid them. We throw hopeless, we run madly from one side to another and we even try to anticipate further movements. With all of that, the enemy scores another goal, and the tears began to drop. We fall in our knees, impotent. But our Eternal Father interrupts the game, runs to us, and no matter the people saw us, he took in his arms, he hugs an kiss us, and says: You don't imagine how proud about you!. You played as you never played! I want the world know you're my son!