A good French friend, who is also a coach, says that there is no greater excitement than coaching your home team, the one you have been a follower and fan of. My friend says that when your agent calls you to confirm that possibility, all the memories of the moments spent in that stand come back to you and you have to stop yourself from going to the car and running towards a destination full of legends, stories and, also , some ghost. My friend says that the first press conference is magnificent, full of light and projects and that just putting on the tracksuit with your club’s crest is already an excellent performance bonus.
My friend says that from the first game onwards, even though it was a friendly one, things started to get a little grayer and that he started to notice it when he stopped going to the usual bar for breakfast because the waiter started suggesting changes to the lineup and He had enough with all his doubts for outsiders to come and add new questions. The coffee was followed by the loaf of bread and then the visit to the supermarket and so on until one day the debate was at the Sunday table, when his parents let him know that in the neighborhood people were beginning to speak very badly of him and that the family name was beginning to get dirty.
My friend told me that this had never happened to him when he had coached other teams in France. Much less when he had done it outside his borders, where he could turn on the car radio without fearing finding a couple of talk show people questioning your management of the team, your abilities, your decisions and even your non-decisions, which inevitably happened every time. time he left the facilities of his love club late. He was looking for some music to clear his mind so he could fall into the murky clutches of his detractors without, how strange the human mind is, being able to disconnect and switch to another station. Well, my friend says that he plays very much in favor of that distance when the one who did not understand the language has been away and that it may be that that station that was so friendly to him was also the one that interfered the most with his work and his abilities. But language that is not understood is equal to peace in the soccer soul.
My friend said that he began to worry when one day he realized that he had stopped whistling when he arrived at his office and that only the most routine phrases of greeting, the French are very structured when it comes to greeting matters, broke the silence. from that office in which a few months before he felt that all his dreams were, all his happiness, all the desires of that young fan that were becoming serious burdens, crooked smiles, averted glances and press conferences with shield and helmet . And even the tracksuit looked bad on him.
My French friend says that it is never easy to be a prophet in your country, but what is rational says that when the challenge is full of incredible and ancient achievements transformed into current unreal challenges, of clichés that lead to simple solutions, of dogmas, of questions mystical matters, financial matters, work climate, when the fire that you feel attacking you no longer comes from outside but you identify it as friendly fire, when the satisfaction from the game, the smell of the grass no longer warms the soul , when everything is filled with pores through which evil, half-truths and jokes leak, when one sees that frozen and impossible winter football north side and feels that the strength is not enough to overcome it, it is time to recognize that one must leave everything behind. . And that returning home safe and sound is now the only victory within your reach without yet knowing that the day after your departure will already be the first in which you will feel the uncontrollable desire to return.
Well, my French friend, also a coach, after his rational presentation usually ends with something like: “This applies to everyone except for you Spaniards, perhaps for some Japanese, who manage those codes of honor, the house and those matters that lead you to immolate yourselves for what is yours and for which you make us so envious.”
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