Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The Beautiful Game

Soccer is the beautiful game.  Certainly it has its ugly moments, as long as human behavior is observed, ugly moments will exist.  The Brazilians call it the beautiful game for good reason.  They play the game beautifully, artistically.  Other countries play the game physically or tactically.  The Brazilians go for the beauty.

You don't have to be Brazilian to play beautifully, but you do have to play artistically.  It's not easy because the artistic aspect has to come from somewhere deep within you.  There are players who are known for their artistic play, the great Pele, Beckenbauer, and my favorite, Maradonna.

I could go on with the list, but that is not my point. Each of the players I have listed have given soccer fans moments to remember.  They have inspired many of us.  At 45 years old, I still play for those moments during a game when I create something remotely related to the skills I have seen them display.  I have had my great moments; I want more.

I have seen Pele perform his bicycle kick.  My jaw dropped the first time I saw that. I grew up watching Beckenbauer at Giants Stadium when he played for the Cosmos.  He was always exceptionally smooth and graceful.  Of them all, I value Maradonna the most.  I have a dvd an Italian friend sent me of Maradonna, and I never get tired of it.  The dvd contains countless replays of Maradonna's artistic moments.  He blows my mind every time.  Many people considered him to be extraterrestrial when he played.  Take the goal he scored against England during the World Cup in Mexico.  If you haven't seen it, don't talk to me about soccer.  That goal still is the greatest ever in World Cup history.

The best thing about that goal, I learned from watching the dvd.  That goal was actually his second attempt at immortality.  Months earlier he performed practically the exact same run at Wembly Stadium in a friendly against England.  Yes, he had a thing for the English.  He did not score on that run though.  Instead, he pushed the ball inches wide of the far post before he reached the keeper.  Maradonna retells that after the game his brother asked him why he had not dribbled the keeper.  Maradonna was a little insulted that his brother would suggest this as he felt he had done his best.  Well he didn't do his best.  We all saw his best when he took his brother's advice and dribbled the keeper during the World Cup.  Not only was that his best, it has been everyone's best.  No arguments.

I really could go on and on about Maradonna.  I should write a book.  It would be hard for me to write well about his artistry though.  I know my limits. Like all great art, Maradonna's art has to be seen.  Better yet, it has to be experienced.  I have experienced his artistry in person.  I saw him play in Naples in a UEFA cup semi-final against...I can't remember the other team.  He has that effect.  

I will never forget the atmosphere at that game; I experienced sensory overload every moment of that four-day trip.  Naples, the people, the food; you just can't find that combination anywhere else.  The Neopolitan fans left a lasting impression upon me.  With their songs and game commentary, they awed me.  Their passion was un-paralleled during the Maradonna epoch.  They loved him as if he were one of them.  He was when he played there.  Napoli won that game, and Mardonna was the best player on the field.  He always was.

He knew he was the best.  Before each game in the warm up, he would try to intimidate the other team and that team's fans while his team would warm up.  Maradonna would go off on his own and play with the ball.  The skills he demonstrated while he juggled were performed with his intent of saying, "I can do this, and none of you can."  The level of skill he displayed and the number of times he could repeat a skill place him at a level with no equivalent.  He was as the Italians would say "fuori classe," beyond class.  While most players, even the great ones, and attempt to master the ball, he succeeded.  He mastered the ball.  He was in complete control of it.  

If you couldn't see the beauty in the game he played, how could you see the beauty in anything.  I can't comprehend those who criticize the beautiful game.  You're either an intellectual moron, or simply a moron, if you can't see the beauty in Maradonna's game.  If you can't see the beauty in soccer, then you choose not to see.  To you, I say open your eyes, jackass, watch the game!

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