Do not football fans, even by recent football fans, even by recent football fans almost disaffected (or who is permanently disamorerà when Italy will come out world, ie the group), I can only say one thing: football is not any sense. But it is also true that a little 'I am passionate about the matter, and not more potendomi feel completely alien to football fortunes of the human race, the question of which way this thing has me I had to ask. Once established that the athletic feats that make the twenty-two people scattered on the ground are not then the fulcrum of all the interest that this matter is able to elicit not only me, but in the millions of people who, day by day, devote much of their free time to make predictions on changes in the championship, or trying to dowse the strategies that lie behind the enigmatic Mourinho's exit, or to guess the reason dell'insanabile cassano tear-lippi, I like the feeling of being in front of a great enigma, perhaps, or maybe too little to be explored was already very loose. This is not to say that I am I will succeed, because we do not succeed, of course.
The first thing that I associate with football is the fear I remember screaming distorted roars in from my Sempreviva post-traumatic memory. They were my grandparents that broke to the goal. Since I was born a few weeks before the glorious world of 82, the same memory deforming suggests to me that they were linked to the screams of the national goals, who must be ruined forever my placid, unreflective, quiet infant. But let's say that this is the fictionalized version of history. The screams of which are very safe undoubtedly go back a few years later and have been linked to the achievements of Rome, of which my grandparents were avid fans. (My grandmother still. My grandmother as a regulator of mood outside was chosen totti, and in moments of fervor than this external controller becomes direttamentente totti's knee, that if you think about it is that from which everything else depends, to a Romanist seriously. My grandmother even made a few years ago when an afternoon nap and woke up with a dreamy smile as a teenager, he told me he had just dreamed of being heavily courted by Spalletti. In fact, my grandmother is now in pieces for the Italian Cup final, not only for the result, of course, but because his hero has fallen, although in reality it is not just dropped, simply showed the irrepressible instinct he had learned from borgataro over the years to disguise, not him and he fell, but the idealized image that everyone, including my grandmother, had tried to stitching him on. And it goes well. Understood this and more). However it seems that every time you scream to celebrate the goal, I were to cry, not understanding the subtle but instantly change from flat calm to quell'animosità sudden a little 'coarse. So despite my idea of \u200b\u200bfans is born under an unlucky star, said in elementary school cheer Rome. Svantaggiosissima choice, seeing the world in those days, the center north, was divided into Juventus and AC Milan. So take me all the piss and that Rome, according to them, which soon won so little, before he started to become for me a real social handicap, I made the plunge without too many thoughts in my oblivion. And I chose the easy way out. Squadra.Iniziai changed to cheer for New Team.
Never was there more serious emotional investment than this: no team, you know, in football history and history of all team sports, has never been able to give the audience moments of extreme pathos so inextricably linked to the certainty of victory. Never. Followed it with my cousin Holly and Benji with a passion that I never had any television program for later. (Great shit. I know that some years later Beverly Hills was awarded the Palme d'Or of the decade, ranking in the television of my heart. Fortunately, however, was not talking about football. But this television brackets does not make sense because Holly and Benji not was something television had a faith and it was real life to the point that). With my cousin tried and tried to make the catapult hellish brothers Derrick in a Sunday afternoon when I risked to break a rib. Because clearly I had to play the twin most unlucky that extends to the ground and gives another push to make him jump up and touch the sun with a finger, making a quadruple somersault, jump over the bar, from there take a reverse and then, GOAL! Only me that my cousin fell on him much earlier. But overall she was a force of nature, she discarded four male thugs at a time down in the yard, despite these surpass in height. A real put ahead of its time, now we have arrived at an age when we are bigger than many players (which start to find disturbing). When we played together, when it endeavored to teach me a lesson to keep up the family honor, she always played Holly, and I never wanted to do Benji, so do not give a paravo, then I wanted to be Tom Becker, who provides the most Part of assists for Holly, but she gave me permission to be Tom because he knew too that I wanted to be at least Tom and shook his head. So I proposed to the play against her as Mark Lenders, but to lose with honor. Only this idea was even worse than the previous six years because I could evoke everything except the physical power of Lenders. In fact I remember one day she (who is smaller than me a bit 'of months, those months that make the difference when you're small), without even explicitly state what I considered inappropriate for the role he said only two words, crucial: you do Bruce.
(this is not even the end of history to tell the truth. But to talk sense to wait at least the end of the season)
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