Raphinha participated in the crucial plays of Saturday's game. The one that ended with the sending off of the rival goalkeeper, the one with the goal disallowed for offside (the decision discredits the supposed modernity of the regulations) and the perfect shot after a cross, also perfect, by João Félix. Raphinha is the type of player who appeals to the most brutal dimension of the culé identity. Criminalized by the delirious cost of transferring him, he has not had the performance that expectations demanded. He soon had to assume his status as a candidate for toia that we make so much of when we are in a bad mood. He even had to compete with Dembélé, who, with his involuntary charisma, eclipsed the Brazilian's ambition.
Raphinha has shown that he has a very powerful self-esteem that, against the general impression of not having sufficient level, proposes an unusual perseverance. It won't be one of those that sells the most t-shirts. If there are players who only need one chance to establish themselves, Raphinha needs ten. This forces him to run and participate in the game with a chaotic and epic sense of sacrifice. It was the best of the game because it allowed us to get away from the temptation of, with the permission of
The rain, the wind and the calendar help to understand the result. But, and I speak for myself, I have incorporated into the repertoire of pathologies of the culé software the fear of pissing off Xavi, who in the press room makes diagnoses that recall those of a political commissioner during campaign times. It is a fault with antecedents: if your perception of the game, the coach's interpretation and the club's managerial criteria do not coincide with the official uncritical optimism established to overcome the abysses (abysses caused, precisely, by the abuse of uncritical optimism) , bad business. Every time I notice that I don't like the team's game, I bite my lip until it bleeds while mentally repeating the Vangaalist mantra of “always positive, never.” It is an ideal liturgy for these dates: it incorporates repentance and flagellation to the punishment. It is true that, deep down, I still believe that Xavi is evolving towards a more vangaalism than Van Gaal. But, at this point, I already know that aspiring to have one's own criteria (with the errors that this entails, of course) in times of speakers, gregarious public address systems and the corporatism of a dysfunctional family business is a heresy of bad taste.
Battle: in 1971, my uncle Pau took me to Canaletes and told me: “Shut up and listen.” Discreetly, we approached one of the gathering rounds that, with incendiary vehemence and irresistible imagination, discussed the ownership of the great Ramon Alfonseda. If the Camp Nou had revealed to me the scenic greatness of this club, in Canaletes I learned that, beyond the game, there is a contradictory universe of opinions. A universe that, instead of expanding, is becoming a market increasingly intervened by uniformity, ignorance, toxic tension and an unconditionality that contradicts the identity – pure hedonism of turbulence – of Barcelona.
