WARNING: Contains bar force, without prejudice to the general sense.
A hypothesis: certain nostalgia of football comes not only from the longing of such a beautiful game, that competitiveness and the advance of physical preparation can – not – undermine. Hardly the Tri selection would be able to face, say, Bayern today, which does not mean that the game of the Germans is hard and bland. Maybe just Jairzinho, and Pelé, who knows, could escape the marking.
Nostalgia comes, I believe, of the thing itself, the difficulty of going to a soccer stadium in Brazil.
Watching a game on Sunday afternoon is no longer that program you decide at the last minute, and carries a penca of children and aggregates, several of them in the front seat of Passão. Going to the stadium requires programming, having a partner-friendly friend, meeting the RP of the stadium’s Naming Rights. And, yes, leave the pixel equivalent to that of an omakase in the most spoken Japanese in the city.
Perhaps your son never went to a soccer stadium.
You may have told your son that he always went to the stadium. Who took coffee and ate canole (not yet named) behind the goal at Pacaembu; who entered free in the second half in the general of Maracanã to see the game it was; that the vignette of his life was “Suderj informs”.
The comparison is reckless, as football still dominates TV and two hundred other canvases, with live broadcasts, specific programs and endless roundtables. Ancelotti’s decision of Limar Neymar should last a few weeks in the homepage of this Sheet.
But the trip to stadiums especially on Sundays and this more organic relationship with football may be giving way to another activity – and this not only contemplative: the race. In a quick look at the Ticket Sports platform, it is known, for example, that next September 7, disgracefully a Sunday, should only take place in the state capital five race races. And there is still a night run the day before Saturday.
Thus, with so many tests, it is already possible to run for about R $ 70, with the right to T -shirt and medal, if the holiday night’s night run.
But the best is that it is not necessary to participate in a race – and the increasingly numerous running teams prove it – to enjoy this that football has already been prodigal to offer: an inexplicable congratulating around an object of common devotion, worthy of being the only really important thing during those two hours lived at the site of events.
Because the race was just what I filled me while I was waiting for the arrival of my “duo”, Isabela Schultz, my young line of the line of relay, which took place this Sunday at USP. And what, what, thousands of times?
The wave was very Buineh, even for those who did not run: relatives, friends and squires generally took advantage of USP club lawns to arm their beach chairs, as if they were in an interlagos F1 GP in the 1970s.
There are people who say the race has changed their lives. I don’t doubt it, but I prefer to think that she has this simple ability to offer a stupendous and memorable Sunday morning.
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