Here we go again. Four years later. FIFA World Cup. A month during which the homo sapiens, male gender, is chained to the couch and watch any game that is televised eating only beer, pizza and chips . "David, we can talk about the project in ten minutes?"
"Oh, no, ten minutes starts Greece-South Korea"
Among other things, seeing how things go there in the Peloponnese, where the Greek players ever win the World Cup, would probably head. I doubt, however, that this could happen easily. Much easier, however, that I should buy an island in the Cyclades. Type Krotalofonissos, Figànissa Eunatikòs or, as recently reminded me of my dear friend Cioccio.
"David, do you remember the real meeting?"
"No, come on, there is Serbia and Ghana" Ghana-
Serbia?! Yes, because over the years we possessed by the spirit of de Coubertin and even an exorcism can help us. We remain glued in front of the game even more soporific because the important thing is to participate . We need to participate and no matter if some teams are not even able to locate geographically the country of origin. To say nothing of when they play Italy. Party anthem and everyone stood to sing and who cares if our march is a obrobrio musical - would distribute more than seven notes, but that's OK, Let us gather in legions, Ready to die , we are ready to die, Italy has called. Then, all together to suffer and to rejoice, to give the horn to fool the referee and Lippi, to encourage the players as if we could hear and to suggest tactics, patterns, and substitutions, convinced that the next coach will be on the bench blue one of us. We even blend between the ears, the poo poo po po po po po, samples of the moon-siaam do. Or maybe, it shakes, because the leit motiv sound of this World Cup South Africa is a kind of fart breaks eardrums delivered in unison by thousands of plastic horns calls vuvuzela . A continuous and incessant trumpeting. Peeeeee! Peeeee! I admit my ignorance on the subject, at least until the beginning your whistle in the league, when I approached the TV into a more stable two baby food mica laugh. I was even convinced that the South African stadiums were invaded by swarms of bees GM . But no. They are the vuvuzela. vuvuzela Damned! There are some who, under the thumb of political correctness and that spirit always ready to blame Third World we in the West for all the ills of the African continent - there is definitely a part of the reason, but we seek to contextualize, by God! - Blaring winds moralistic sermons vuvuzela who would see in a sort of redemption of the South African blacks against terrible segregationist policies of the past years. Policies terrible, but if the vuvuzela is part of this redemption, we are in good shape. Then yes, compared to those trumpeted, rather than the vuvuzela. That, however, I confess, I have broken my balls really . Good week to all!
ps: I can not deny that this world without friends historical I have accompanied all these years since I was a skinny boy skinny, tall two apples and a little more, without a shadow of a beard and the voice girl ... well, ' are something else, and I miss them . But life is like that, you start new and exciting adventures are aware that one lived up to now has been addressed with the best travel companions that could be found. This post is dedicated to all of you . Forza Azzurri!
