No te pienses sin sangre, no te juzgues sin tiempo No te quedes sin labios, no te duermas sin sueño
No dejes caer los párpados pesados como juicios No reserves del mundo solo un rincón tranquilo This is when we leave ourselves open to getting hurt, to suffer, and that is surely the point of life and love, and to football, to abandon ourselves to the world, to risk, to let it in no matter how painful it may get. But this is still football, it is still a sport which inspires passion and hope, it sometimes allows us to dream, and now and then we can still watch with the wide-eyed wonder of a child. Like many, I have learned not to get too attached to players, which at times can seem a very childish way of watching the game. For us simple fans, most of us have learned to accept the modern game, and maybe it has killed just a little more, that passion and enthusiasm we felt as kids.
It’s a game ruled more and more by money, a business like any other, at least that is how those who rule our game and our clubs like to see it. “Escribiendo, iba a hacer con las manos lo que nunca había sido capaz de hacer con los pies…” (Writing, I was going to do with my hands what I was never able to do with my feet – Eduardo Galeano)įootball has changed, and is constantly evolving, and for us romantics, nostalgic for a past that can never return, it can be difficult to accept. Writing is what I love to do and writing about football gives me a chance to combine these two passions, and my love for football was reawakened when I moved to Florence over 20 years ago and fell in love with Fiorentina. This is not something I do for money, or as a career, most of what I write, for this site, for other websites, for magazines, goes unpaid, but apart from that, I spend a lot of time researching and writing about football, a lot of which may never see the light of day. Less than two years ago I started writing for this site, and it reawakened that passion inside me. (Do not save yourself, don’t stand still on the side of the road, do not freeze the joy, do not want with reluctance, don’t save yourself now or never, don’t save yourself, don’t be calm – Mario Benedetti) No te salves ahora ni nunca, no te salves No congeles el júbilo, no quieras con desgana Sometimes it’s just the world around us which makes us feel like these things are pointless, meaningless, and everything you do must have a reason. Some of us are not as fortunate to grow up in an atmosphere of encouragement, some are made to feel stupid or ashamed by their interests and abandon them before they can take hold. Creation for creations sake, when a child has no concept of making a profit, of taking advantage of any talent they may have. The same boy who spent hours drawing, and filling up notebooks that nobody would ever see.
(When we were kids, the old ones were around 30, A puddle was an ocean, death, plain and simple didn’t exist – Mario Benedetti)įor me, writing about football is a way to re-engage with the boy who would painstakingly create a football newspaper right after the results came in on a Saturday afternoon, which nobody would ever read. There are times, if we’re lucky, when you can find again that naivety, that innocent enthusiasm, love without reason, allow yourself to daydream, abandon our ego. Most of that has been beaten out of us, like the innocence of youth, by the world we live in, those who surround us, life itself. A lot of the time we think we’ve grown up, matured, outgrown that childish way of viewing the game, and life in general. For most of us it’s a passion which begins as a child, finding magic and escape in the simplest of sports. As a simple football fan, I love the game and I love my club.
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