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| Even at the second attempt is good |
Having been one of the most critical scourge of the expedition team in the world, that mixture of modesty and technical arrogance that has caused our healthy disgust, for reasons that now is superfluous rehash (but already seem far as those days!), I can not claim to be more than happy with the positive impressione che l'Italia mi ha suscitato ieri sera, nel non facile scenario del Westfalenstadion di Dortmund. C'è da dire che le premesse c'erano tutte, o quasi tutte: un allenatore indipendente e coraggioso, la voglia di puntare sulla qualità, l'aver toccato il fondo e quindi non poter fare altro che risalire. In un certo senso, mi ha ricordato quell'Italia sperimentale, che di fatto giocò solo qualche amichevole, che vedeva Miccoli e Corradi di punta (il debutto fu un'amichevole giocata a Genova mi pare di ricordare, e sembrava l'inizio di una nuova era. Non lo fu). Questa però non è un'Italia sperimentale, ma una squadra solida su cui puntare per l'avvenire. Non sono fenomeni, o meglio, non ci sono phenomena (but not the other side there were), but finally we see the field in a group of guys who can play football and enjoys playing football. You see gaiety primitive calcium in Holloway's uncle told us in the comments on previous post. You may win or may lose (and it is likely, and normal and even positive that this Italy will lose many games, before finding herself, as we have received a lot of waste, before kissing his mouth right ), but at least this gave us a national turning point in the evening he plays, it can also be home to watch the match. Without getting bored.
So last night, after many years, I have the view of the friendly match Italy. Undoubtedly, part of the evening dell'appeal should be assigned to the sumptuous spaghetti with mullet roe that has prepared the host. Without doubt, also, the excellent Istrian Malvasia bottles that we have made it drunk too unbearable velvety voice Fulvio Collovati. But the game, from what I saw was beautiful, really beautiful. And not just on the other.
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| Sergio Marchionne Cesare Prandelli or |
hardly seemed to see Italy. Remember that Juventus made FIOM manovalanti the ball without a minimum of technical expertise? Do you remember the various Marchisio, Pepe, Iaquinta, Camoranesi? Well, the referendum of Mirafiori wiped out too. Today we fans are benefiting from tax exemptions of manager with a sweater, and as even more than in Fiat - and productivity of national is affected positively. First exception: Thiago Motta. It is not Italian, but matter less than zero. Thiago Motta is a huge player, very strong. And 'the last bastion of the midfield. It gives the impression to anyone who turns around to play well. Even De Rossi, who hit it a decent game since it displays hair to Zack Bayside School , appeared in front of a giant Khedira, often presenting itself, and quality opponent in the penalty area. Covered by the Brazilian on the shoulders of Rovigo, in my opinion. Even Montolivo, a cheerful and more flies with the phlegm of a actor Manoel de Oliveira , do not be intimidated by Schweinsteiger not exactly reassuring. Second exception: no Juve striker on the pitch. Despite the collective agreements signed by the lawyer providing for their presence in the field effectively restrain the revolution of industrial relations took place at the Lingotto also freed us from these chains. Finally we can enjoy there in front of the intellectuals of the penalty area, people who cut his teeth in the provinces of the Empire and which now enjoys his golden maturity in large teams for football and not the merits of union membership (the GEA, as CGIL, is the legacy of the past). Cassano gave all the usual ten minutes to show his beautiful movements Pazzini, Rossi in a carefree good sauce (not a case which has just marked him as Italian-American Marchionne) Borriello and his formidable state of grace. Anyone can give more and they all will. But there was a miracle no one mourns the absent, everyone wants to present well. The third and final exception: you play (good) football; who play game (good) football. To hell with decades of prose emaciated Italian football as the only way to success à la Gianni Brera (whose statues the newspaper editors should be pulled down like Saddam in the streets of Baghdad), the conservatism of the devil COBAS Maldini, of Lippi, Donadoni of, the return of Lippi, to hell with the ministerial consultation of the Senators dressing room, to hell with the blocks of strip clubs. Now to be called and take the field has only one thing: being able to play football. If possible, also fine. And last night, so much admired in Germany at the World Cup football, as the production model of the German industrial district so envied in recent months, looked like us.
The revolution is under way, I challenge anyone to disagree with me. I am left with only one doubt, however, in line with the sickening drawl on the drive in place of Italy these days, but the Italian fans will appreciate this Italy? Or in other words, made in Italy (football), we still do the Italians? I'm afraid so, and not just because by nature I do not trust those who go to the cinema to see "the plays nice." The point is this: Italy is beautiful and Prandelli's young, immature and sophisticated , exciting and full of nuances.'s Italy Prandelli is contemporary and merit. Above all, set aside the fucking heart (Sorry if I'm self-quote) thrown over the barrier that has distinguished us for years (the semi-final against Holland, remember?) And I have always hated, Italy's Prandelli is surprising compared to all those that preceded it. It is not immediately easy to appreciate, because it is not easy to recognize the vital model that he proposes. As has happened in Mirafiori, I am convinced that a referendum would Italians also split on this issue: Italy retrograde better result at any cost, the fullbacks blocked corsette of propaganda of Gattuso, who is likely to win despite playing poorly matches, or modern Italy and modernist ball on the ground, pushing the full backs, who know the median touch the ball, playing well but that risks losing the games? The answer, in a country that in words is so patriotic as to be ready for the barricades just to celebrate the 17th March sentitissima unity of Italy, but in practice that day has already prepared the low-cost ticket to go and celebrate in a resort of Sharm el-Sheikh, it does not seem so obvious.
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| Sharm el Sheikh, Italy, March 17, 2011: as well as Wally, is the tricolor |
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