Dream and happiness, the two most overused words in those blessed self-help books, have long been knocking on the doors of sports journalism, which has obviously opened them wide with predictable delight. ‘The dream of Julián Álvarez’ and ‘the sadness of Lamine Yamal’, that is what many living beings have been feeding on in recent weeks.
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Well, for now the supposed melancholy of Lamine Yamal has been deactivated, who at 19 years old and with everything that has happened to him in life (a childhood of scarcity, a teenage superstar) has the right not to smile and to hide his braces for a couple of days without being nagged as if he were living an invented drama. There was no case: Lamine played a movie-like match against Rayo (like the day against Athletic), scored a great goal, was very happy, ran to celebrate it, went down on his knees, kissed the badge, and hugged everyone. In the end, he scored another. First petty crisis overcome. Music of sorrowful violins to the drawer until the next misleading report. He wasn’t sad, he was having beers.
It will be hard to find cracks in this Barça to get in. Its appearance is that of fully cooked teams. It plays football of overwhelming modernity. Flick already has what he wanted: a machine in which all the pieces add up. And what pieces. If you don’t know which name to choose from so many that come to mind (Raphinha, Gordon, Xavi Espart…) it means the team stands out. Excellence, community, better training, and competition of some with (not against) others.
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First petty crisis overcome; music of sorrowful violins to the drawer
Also the “happiness” of Julián Álvarez, shamefully compared to an unjustly imprisoned victim not even the Count of Monte Cristo, will stop worrying as days go by. There are people (millions and millions of anonymous people) who have it worse. He will get through it.
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