Football produces characters that remain in your head and inevitably become part of your daily life. The champion makes gestures that must be repeated, both in the game – by the alleged or aspiring emulators – and in visual arts, both static and dinamic.
Each of us has their own way of expressing beauty, the football player knows that he can do that through a goal, a cross, an assist or a dribbling. The football pitch turns into a canvas on which the players can leave their mark like true artists.
In the modern era, velocity and instinctivity play a crucial role in football. The player needs to make these “brush strokes” rapid, able to escape the eye of those who stand between them and the beauty of his intent. To make this possible, the player needs to push his body and his mind as hard as possible. The intelligence and the brilliance of this are determined by an infinite repetition of the gesture, by the muscle strengthening and a natural predisposition that can’t be limited to the talent.
Football is also made of those unexplainable moments between sport and talent. The changes of team dictated by the heart, that last-minute goal, that match which is more than a simple match, that jersey that identifies a specific moment, that colour which oozes history, charming because stained with pain and the romanticism of many men who made the history of a club. You can’t help but be fascinated by these sorts of stories. I’ve always appreciated those kind of stories told at the bar, relived in a summer night with friends or watching crazy matches of Copa Libertadores at ungodly hours. I’m trying to write down a couple fo lines to describe those instants and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.