Noontides of the heart

The flattering comments I've read this morning from Franz Beckenbauer towards Raul Gonzalez (former R. Madrid player, now in Shalke), filled me with enthusiasm. I was not much of a fan of Raul's style ten years ago, when the whole world was in ecstasy about him; to me, Raul was clumsy, used only one leg and was too much sickle and simple, no elegance whatsoever. As the years passed I kept this opinion, but I recognized that his achievements are just too great to be the output of chance. He was and he is a great, successful player and a very profitable asset for any team.

But what gained me for Raul's cause has been his genuine courage once everybody lost faith on him. Ten years ago, Coca-Cola could've make a commercial showing a empty glass of coke half buried in the scorching sands of any desert and a child, in the middle of nowhere, wearing a T-shirt with a big number 7 in the back and Raul's name above it, kicking the glass. Few years later, he had being disposed of as an old, useless cloth. Raul, as a true Spaniard -who play for Spain because he is a Spaniard and not merely because he likes playing like others-, he failed to build international respect for the Spanish National Team and, right after being despised and forsaken, other people did it. Someone who is able to keep going, to overcome such nastiness, and have never a bad word, nor a bad gesture and, now, draws the praise of a man like Beckenbauer, it is, it must be someone with a tremendous courage and a titanic heart.

And so, I was very glad to hear about it this morning... Raul epitomizes the continuous battle of life, the genuine toils of the true hero. He is, certainly, a model... And he is the future of Real Madrid, by the way...

**

When having dinner tonight, feeling a little lonely and bored and depressed, something made me notice that these exact feelings were shared by some else. It is not that we shall rejoice in a sort of delightful touch that those terrible feelings frequently convey along -Dostoevsky talks about it in Notes from the Underworld-, but we shall rebel against them.

I looked for nice words to embrace ourselves and all I could find was a big "FUCK YOU", screamed from North to South, East to West and this nice, very, very nice Hardy's poem. Hope it helps:

I LOOK into my glass,

And view my wasting skin,

And say, “Would God it came to pass

My heart had shrunk as thin!”

 

For then, I, undistrest

By hearts grown cold to me,

Could lonely wait my endless rest

With equanimity.

 

But Time, to make me grieve,

Part steals, lets part abide;

And shakes this fragile frame at eve

With throbbings of noontide.

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