Campioni del mondo
After more than one month I’m writing again. I apologize to my readers (do I have any?) for this long silence, but the last month was so full of happenings that I didn’t have much time to write.
I hope I’ll find some more time these days to tell you about events and emotions in these weeks I just spent.
This night I want to start from the 9th of July, a day which most probably will remain engraved on the memory of many Italians.
It’s the World Cup Final in Germany: Italy-France.
The whole country stopped for a night, everybody staying breathless in front of the TV.
I don’t need to tell here what happened during the match, because I’m sure everybody knows it.
I’d rather begin from the end, when Grosso scores the last penalty, freeing the joy of millions of people and putting an end to that feeling of mixed pleasure and sorrow which had been with us for those long 120 minutes.
I know how it can be difficult for people who didn’t live those moments to understand the storm of emotions which follow one another during, and after, a football final.
It’s difficult even for me to describe them, especially now, after some days.
In fact, if I put myself back in the rational engineer’s shoes, I can’t explain well how 22 men (ok they became 21 eventually, after Zidane’s headbutting), running after a ball, manage to keep tense one hundred million people.
This can’t be explained if you don’t take into accounts emotions: if you don’t think that our actions, and usually our thoughts as well, are driven not only by the brain, but also by feelings.
Some days ago a colleague of mine tried to convince me that when I say that we won the World Cup I’m wrong, because our players won it, but all the other Italians didn’t do anything for it.
It’s superfluous saying that he’s an engineer too.
His reasoning, cold and aloof, is faultless.
But the problem is that he, the night of the 9th, was not there by the penalty spot, together with Grosso, pushing the ball into the goal.
This is why he can’t understand that we all won the World Cup.
Is it the power of football?
Power of passion, I would say. Football is just a means to set off, gather and join, people’s passion.
I hope I’ll find some more time these days to tell you about events and emotions in these weeks I just spent.
This night I want to start from the 9th of July, a day which most probably will remain engraved on the memory of many Italians.
It’s the World Cup Final in Germany: Italy-France.
The whole country stopped for a night, everybody staying breathless in front of the TV.
I don’t need to tell here what happened during the match, because I’m sure everybody knows it.
I’d rather begin from the end, when Grosso scores the last penalty, freeing the joy of millions of people and putting an end to that feeling of mixed pleasure and sorrow which had been with us for those long 120 minutes.
I know how it can be difficult for people who didn’t live those moments to understand the storm of emotions which follow one another during, and after, a football final.
It’s difficult even for me to describe them, especially now, after some days.
In fact, if I put myself back in the rational engineer’s shoes, I can’t explain well how 22 men (ok they became 21 eventually, after Zidane’s headbutting), running after a ball, manage to keep tense one hundred million people.
This can’t be explained if you don’t take into accounts emotions: if you don’t think that our actions, and usually our thoughts as well, are driven not only by the brain, but also by feelings.
Some days ago a colleague of mine tried to convince me that when I say that we won the World Cup I’m wrong, because our players won it, but all the other Italians didn’t do anything for it.
It’s superfluous saying that he’s an engineer too.
His reasoning, cold and aloof, is faultless.
But the problem is that he, the night of the 9th, was not there by the penalty spot, together with Grosso, pushing the ball into the goal.
This is why he can’t understand that we all won the World Cup.
Is it the power of football?
Power of passion, I would say. Football is just a means to set off, gather and join, people’s passion.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Dopo più di un mese torno a scrivere di nuovo. Chiedo scusa ai miei lettori (ne ho davvero qualcuno?) per il mio lungo silenzio, ma questo ultimo mese è stato così denso di avvenimenti che il tempo per scrivere è stato davvero poco.
Spero in questi giorni di avere un po’ più di tempo, e poter raccontare vicende ed emozioni di queste settimane appena trascorse.
Stasera voglio cominciare dal 9 luglio, un giorno che probabilmente rimarrà impresso nella memoria di tanti italiani per molto tempo.
E’ la finale dei mondiali di Germania: Italia-Francia.
L’intero Paese si è fermato per una sera, col fiato sospeso di fronte al televisore.
Non c’è bisogno che mi metta a raccontare qui la cronaca della partita, che sono sicuro tutti hanno seguito, e che comunque è disponibile ovunque.
Quindi comincio dalla fine, da quando la rete si gonfia sul rigore di Grosso, liberando la gioia di milioni di persone, ponendo fine a quel sentimento misto di piacere e dolore che aveva accompagnato tutti per quei lunghissimi 120 minuti.
Mi rendo conto che possa essere difficile per chi certe cose non le ha vissute, capire la tempesta di emozioni che si succedono durante, e dopo, una finale di calcio.
E’ difficile anche per me descriverle, soprattutto a freddo, dopo alcuni giorni. Anzi, se ci penso bene, rientrando nel mio ruolo di ingegnere razionale, non riesco a spiegare come 22 uomini (sì, poi sono diventati 21, dopo la capocciata di Zidane) che corrono appresso a un pallone possano tenere in tensione cento milioni di persone (Italia+Francia).
Ma il difetto di un discorso del genere è che non tiene conto delle emozioni: non prende in considerazione che le nostre azioni, e spesso anche i nostri pensieri, sono guidati non solo dal cervello ma anche dai sentimenti.
L’altro giorno un collega in ufficio cercava di convincermi che quando affermo che abbiamo vinto i mondiali sono in errore, perché il mondiale l’hanno vinto i giocatori in campo, e tutti gli altri italiani non hanno fatto niente.
Inutile dire che anche lui è un ingegnere: il suo ragionamento, freddo e distaccato, non fa una piega.
Il problema è che lui domenica sera non era lì sul dischetto, insieme a Grosso, a spingere il pallone in rete.
Per questo non può capire che il mondiale l’abbiamo vinto tutti.
Potere del calcio? Potere della passione, direi. Il calcio è solo un mezzo per scatenare, raccogliere ed unire, la passione delle persone.
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