Sunday morning, everyone has their own little habits. Some will get the chicken in the market place, still others will do the trifecta. Jacky adores strolling through the streets of Montmartre to join the Divette of our memories.
The day after each match, he found Eugene there to redo the match. The radio-bistro news are sometimes tasty there. “In 1976 in Glasgow there were the square posts, now it’s our players who have the square feet”, “If they are football stars, why are they mistreating him? “
In this Green bar before Covid, water mint and sweet verbena are the order of the day. Football is a story of cycles, it seems. For this reason, certainly, that during the summer preparation, the bicycle climb of the Col de l’Iseran is an absolute must.
First happiness of the day, on the Saint-Etienne hills golden by the sun, the warm welcome from fans! Loyalty has no viruses. How beautiful a people singing. How sad an amorphous team. Recurring inability to wrap the game.
To put some rhythm. One endless day. A day without hunger. Dry speed on the offensive, on big occasions galore. The green and white blind to approach the opponent’s area is lowered. GPS is sometimes heavy to carry.
Quickly find a compass to find the meaning and essence of the game. Deprived of green gas, no euphoria. This causes serious disturbances in the offensive animation. Nothing hilarious. Lots of races to get back into the block when the ball is lost. In football, you don’t have to run a lot. You have to know how to run at the right pace at the right time.
A monorhythmic or even soporific game
The structure is in place but there is too much technical waste. The blunders in the transmissions make impossible the sequences worthy of the name. Inability to stay ahead of an opponent’s imbalance. No support for the carrier, no passing angles, no easy ball progress. Few oiled playing circuits and preferential circuits difficult to identify.
Still as monorhythmic or even soporific. No speed in the game or creativity in the truth zone. Yet with experience, everyone knows that there is nothing set in stone.
We can now imagine Jacky and Eugène leaning on the bar of the green enclave of the “goal” Montmartre. They talk over and over again. “The future is ours, with all these young people from the center, we are 4th in Europe”, “the coach knows what he is doing, he is a top chef”. “The forward, he has to put it in the net, then we talk.”
Guy, the benevolent doc, joined them. With the sarcasm and wisdom that characterize him, he balances “the most important thing is the three points! “