In ancient times (by C. Del Vasto)

Author: Carlo Del Vasto

🇮🇹 Versione italiana: Nell’antichità

🇪🇸 Version en Espanol: En la antigüedad

In ancient times, to explain difficult concepts related with life, death, behavior, morals, love, hate, they used short tales.

Jesus did that, the best storyteller of all times, great Greek philosophers, Gandhi and so did Omar Sivori.

Then, one day, English invented football and the world changed, for better or worse.

Empire economic and political colonies started dribbling, shooting, make goal… rete… gol. Football started being inflected as calcio, futbòl, soccer… but also jogo bonito, catenaccio, tiki taka. Every community express their own phobia and love of life with football, Basilian creativity and irreverence, German order and discipline, Uruguayan garra charrua, Argentinian all and nothing, the spirit of football essence of Maradona’s Argentina, the sigle person that marks the difference for better or worse. Italian teamwork, because when we play as a team, we always win.

They say when you cannot face a problem, the Universe disclose it to you in the most different ways, we are in this aspect to learn. Football is one of those indirect messages sent to us to understand the World, assumed you are tuned on the right frequencies.

Every match is a life example, you just have to figure yourself with the jersey of one team on. AC Milan’s Istanbul final teach us not ever take for granted what you got. Inter Milan 5th of May that, even if you have Ronaldo and one point more than the opponent, in the world things not always go as you wished. Juventus Perugia game, teach you that evil not always win and that some messages comes from above, heavy rain and disasters sometimes for something good. My Velez Sarsfiels that an absurd goleador goalkeeper in the person of Jose Luis Chilavert and a unite laboring team conquer Libertadores in Brazil and win over Milan, the battleship, in Tokyo. Maradona that scores two goals to English right after Malvinas’ war.

Every piece of play has a meaning.

A goal from the middle of the field is a daring, epic result. Bicycle kick is elegance and ambition. In some latitudes they call it “chilean” because the first or the most famous player making this kick came form the pepper-shaped country. […]

Today’s parable is the match that was played for 16th round of Italian league, day 9th of January 2000.

Parma plays a bad match against what it is an invincible team with Zidane at his best (how the hell was he good?!) and with referee Farina that blows the whistle every time in favour of the Vecchia Signora and not even the worst guadañazo for Parma. Juventus dominates in the midfield but can’t finalize, first because Pippo Inzaghi is not in his best day, second because there was a certain Fabio Cannavaro there. But at 59th minute Torrisi makes a faul to Del Piero and is sent off. Penalty kick. Del Piero scores.

Dino Baggio loose his head, is sent off and makes that money hand-gesture that costed him also the national team. In the meantime got in Burrito Ortega, that with River Plate played until late, getting in drunk in the first half and getting drunk the defenders in the second, and also Walem.

It is 92nd minute, Parma plays in 9 against 11, fields is a swamp, bianconeri are everywhere. It’s damn cold and the non-stop rain filters until fans and players bones. Supporters breath contract so much that seems fog, or many little smudge pots.

To believe is to create, if you believe enough it becomes real. The observer modifies matter and reality.

And so, when everything seemed to end, a light is lighten up by who you would never expect, Walem… Who the hell is Walem? He make a wonderful pass on the left to Crespo, that enter the box, hypnotizes three Juve defenders and scores with a shot with the left foot, that is not his main.

And the whole stadium falls down. Crespo run to the corner and starts a celebration no one of us will never forget.

Uncontrollable joy. In Curva Nord happens what Argentinian call avalancha, avalanche.

It is a jubilation, embraces, raised arms, liberating screams.

He is the hero, but also all the others players on the pitch, sent off Torrisi and Dino Baggio and the fans that constantly supported the team.

Hernan Jorge Crespo, Hernan /Ernani like Verdi’s opera bandit, Jorge like Saint George, that defeated the Drake.

That big guy that in his first days in Parma didn’t shine, even being reclutant with the yellow and blue shirt, too similar to the Boca Juniors one, he that wasa a Gallina (River Plate son) in the heart. He that, in River, stand hours in the training center to try bicycle kicks, backheel, rabonas with el principito Francescoli.

The legend says that a River Plate fan sent him a training jersey to put under the millionarios Parma one and that from then he started scoring gol, so it is spelled in Argentina, and to let a little capitol city fall in love with him and his feet.

In this moment, we all are that Parma that fight against a ruthless rival and apparently invincible, we are outnumbered and without resources, we have no more defence, even if we are in disadvantage, even if everything seems to be against us.

We are those that never give up, that fight till the end, that believe and try every possible chance. We are Dino Baggio that makes the money hand-gesture and charge with the System.

We don’t have to expose but keep the position.

Keep united, don’t faul, don’t get in contact, let restart and change the result against statistics, against forecasts. Let do our part staying at home, then our Walem (doctors) and Crespo (nurses) will score.

Everything is impossible until someone makes it.

Miracles doesn’t exist, but sometimes happens.


To watch the goal:

To watch the full match:

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