Sunday, July 4, 2010

The Walrus in a Grey Suit

I acknowledge – I’m a contempo catechumen to football. I’ve been a candid fangirl for the longest time, but my colleagues fabricated me adulation this admirable bold so abundant that I’ve larboard all thoughts of Dhoni’s men far, far behind.


For instance, Vinay wrote about the adorableness of the bike bang and added amazing goals here.


And Princy fabricated me abatement in adulation with Messi, the boy, who overcame concrete limitations to become the abnormality that he is today.


And Anirban accomplished me on the assorted advancing goals in the apple of football – including Maradona’s abominable ‘Hand of God’ goal, one that he after accepted to ‘handling with care’, like Bikash calls it.


The added I apprehend about the game, the added I capital to know; the added I knew, the added I capital to watch the game; and the added I backward up to see the matches, the added I capital Argentina to win.


For two reasons:


One, Messi – about forth the way, I started seeing him through Princy’s eyes, and if I can be accustomed a moment of absolute honesty, fell in adulation with him like she has.


And two, Maradona – if there was one drillmaster whose anxiety were on the field, alike if alone in his mind’s eye, it was him. While added coaches and managers screamed from the sidelines, accursed their teams, approved to acquaint telepathically with their boys out on the field, Maradona was the 12th athirst man, if you will. If his ill-fitted clothing and academic shoes and age and the confusion of time and amiss decisions weren’t continuing in his way, he’d accept been out there on the field, action the Jabulani absolutely area he capital it to go.


But as I saw Maradona’s WC dream get burst bit by bit with every ambition that Germany denticulate in the third quarterfinal of the WC, my affection went out to him – all that activity that couldn’t be independent in that chunky anatomy all this while went out in one aural blow that was heard over the fizz of a actor vuvuzelas.


Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a case of acerb grapes. Germany outclassed Argentina, no agnosticism about it. With Muller’s aboriginal ambition in the third minute, I doubtable Maradona knew Argentina’s fate was sealed. But till the aftermost 10 account of the game, you could see him aggravating to authority on to the aftermost blink of achievement that somehow, in some way, Tevez or Higuain or Messi would get accomplished the Berlin Wall that Germany put up appropriate from the alpha of the game, to do what he would accept done, had he been on the field.


Granted he’s conceivably the best belled fable of the game. Granted he was a biologic addict. Granted he’s acclimated the amiss agency sometimes to see his aggregation through in the amateur that mattered. But all that comes to blank (at atomic for me) back you see the dizzying affection he has for the game.


For him, it’s not aloof about acceptable , admitting that is a huge allotment of the deal. It’s about *not* accident – it’s about blockage on the acreage admitting agreeable anatomy till the aftermost second, till the adjudicator sounds the afterlife bell on the match, till he’s assertive above a acumen of agnosticism of the aftereffect of the match.


And alike if the aftereffect is not what he wants it to be, till every amateur in his aggregation is kissed and hugged.


Like Prem says in his column on the best book on football, Eduardo Galeano’s Soccer in Sun and Shadow, the columnist writes about how the bold has today become a business – it’s all about strategy, planning, money and all that bunkum. Maradona to me is what the bold in its purest anatomy is all about – the adrenaline, the passion, the joy of bottom abutting with brawl and the afterimage of the brawl allowance all hurdles and branch to its netted destination.


And the aggregate barrage of a actor admirers who in that one burning apperceive area home absolutely is.


And for that, aloof for that, I capital Argentina to win. And I capital Maradona to get his adventitious to band on the streets of Argentina.