el mano de dios
el mano de dios
I never thought that football would accompany me through my important life milestones.
El Mano de Dios - Diego - Ronaldinho - Argentina - Brazil.
Many years have passed since I was 11 years old, watching the World Cup, when my gaze stopped on Ronaldinho. My God, how handsome he looked to me. I saw the flags of Argentina and Brazil and thought that these were the two most beautiful flags in the world. And now, after so many years, after seeing the flags of many other countries and visiting many of them, I still feel that the two most beautiful flags in the world are Argentina and Brazil.
Yesterday, England and Argentina played in the semifinal, and I was very far from Argentina, yet I was with Argentinians, and Argentina won.
Four years ago, I was with Argentinians in Spain watching the World Cup final, and I can’t believe it was only four years ago. It feels like many lifetimes have passed, or like it was just yesterday. The only major difference is that now I understand absolutely everything Argentinians say or shout during a match, whereas back then I understood almost nothing. And I have been to Argentina, which is still hard for me to believe. Now I know what victory in football means for Argentinians—I have seen it.
The last time Argentina and England played, it was with Diego Maradona, when he scored his goal, el mano de dios. I remember watching a film by Sorrentino, my favorite director, with that title, and only vaguely understanding what it was about.
Now it feels as if I spent half of my life in the wrong hemisphere, completely the wrong one, that my south was always in the north, that my birthday was always in the summer, not the winter, that I was always drinking mate, always laughing and smiling and talking to taxi drivers, that I always loved mandioca and always lived where there is no snow.