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| imagine the impossibility of having dreams |
Iera night I fell asleep with a fascinating question in mind, a person insinuatomi never boring, and I was wondering what that dream of the blind. Blind since birth, mostly. While those who become blind at some point in their lives, thinking they may use any images you have stored over the years lived with open eyes, offsetting so with the memories of the dark past of this, the blind from birth are living a life of uncertain approximations, based on the stresses of the other senses. For the rest, are forced to invent, going beyond the imagination because, without a visual reference from which to grasp even the semblance of reality, their only resource is the darkness that they have inside. The dreams of the blind must be time travel fantasy in which every word in the real world has some meaning in the dream takes on a completely different, shaped the life of every single person. Two blind people who dream the same dream in reality never the same thing, and this inability to share the experience lies, probably, the great sadness of blindness.
The same sadness that this morning I felt I should try at this time the fans of Lazio. Observe the vicissitudes of the cousins \u200b\u200bis for those who write purely intellectual experience, not trying nor the mind-numbing passion that I feel for the fate of my team nor the senseless hatred that normally characterizes the uncritical rivals. A browse through the newspapers and listen to the radio seems to understand that the environment in Lazio is home to historic lows. The fans no longer have empathy with the technician who last year was easily rescued them from a situation quite slippery. The jewel of the house, a second tip of Argentina undoubted technical qualities (always pull a sigh of relief when it is replaced after three quarters of the derby), but also undeniable weaknesses of character (not yet realized that no player can win games by himself, although it has become a commonplace in the press, the great bullshit allegation that there were "players capable of changing a game with a play." As Burdisso, for example), is proving to be a lost bet, the classic flash in the pan, with the aggravating circumstance of twenty-two million spent to buy it. The team in general has been tarnished as his Prophet, tucking in a judicious and monotone in which pragmatism is not difficult to see Friulian hands of his coach, who shares with his neighbor across an advanced age, it seems more careful to make the ant to pose by cicada (though Rome is not Milan , ie, as taught Vanzina, is a city that is still able to get excited for a shampista).
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| impossible to know how to imagine the happiness |
Despite all this, I reflected on the subway, Lazio (yet) fourth in the standings. Not only that-it is so high-ranking in the beginning of the year. The few times he has fallen (from memory: the Roma, with Cesena, with Juventus) has always taken, to my surprise. While relying on a discrete pink but nothing more, assembled with players eager to enjoy a final revenge against the great football that has always snubbed them (the various Mauri, Brocchi, Matuzalem, Biava, Floccari, Ledesma), distinguished strangers proved rather than reliable (Lichtsteiner, Muslera, Dias, Radu, Kozak) and a couple of talentucci (Argentina and the Prophet), the team is having one of the best leagues in four decades. Forty years in which, wishing for a moment put aside the inner hell of having spent one fourth in Serie B, the head was raised in just three occasions: the year of the league Maestrelli (and only that year) , the luster of Cragnotti management (with the aftermath in court well-known to investors) and some occasional purely sporting exploits but basically sterile (high rankings in the league, cup wins in minors) by Zeman, Rossi and Mancini. The rest is mediocre sound, marked with decorum and decency, but pur sempre mediocrità, è l'esistenza consolante del borghese che torna a casa e trova la cena pronta e i bimbi a letto, le bollette da pagare e l'invito a cena dalla suocera per il venerdì. Piccole scaramucce condominiali, disillusioni domestiche, routine impiegatizia.
Di fronte a un quadro così delineato, il tifoso della Lazio -il mio cugino, per rimanere nel lessico della stampa specializzata- dovrebbe essere entusiasta per la stagione in corso. Ed invece prevale lo scetticismo. Ora, se stessimo parlando della Roma, non mi sorprenderei: l'umore del popolo giallorosso, in quanto popolo, è quanto di più vicino esista in natura ad una montagna russa (e sia annotato a margine che io I hate the amusement park and its attractions). The exaltation of Sunday is frozen by disappointment on Wednesday, and vice versa. He is a champion one day, one eighth, ninth or tenth king of Rome, the next day is a great blowjob with gravy, a mercenary attack only about money . But in front of the Lazio supporters, from my keyhole, and then observing the Lazio I know personally, I always thought, thanks to a much smaller number, which never hurts, as opposed to elite to ours, a cheer and Gnostic icy, able to sublimate the troubles in the aesthetics of ethics, I did not expect this attitude so submissive, so resigned, so melancholy. It 's true, then, that football, like life, is a matter of expectations. Everything revolves around the gap between our imagination and the reality around us, between what we imagine and what we touch, including the world they are shipwrecked in the hope and when we forget to live. Between the time we go to sleep and when we awaken.
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| impossible not to have expectations |
How Lazio at the start of ' year, avrebbero firmato per essere quarti, per di più a pochi punti dalla vetta, quando ormai l'inverno volge al termine? Gli stessi che oggi durante il giorno si lamentano, e la notte fanno i sogni dei ciechi.
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