Não sou daqueles fanáticos por futebol que sabem o nome de todos os jogadores que já passaram pelo seu time e o ano de todos os títulos conquistados. Mas gosto de futebol o suficiente pra me emocionar com alguns momentos proporcionados pelo Flamengo, meu time do coração desde a época em que Zico fazia a alegria dos flamenguistas. Pros mais novos terem uma idéia do que o Zico representava para a criançada, dêem uma olhada nesse vídeo.
Já mais velho, um dos momentos mais marcantes que o time me proporcionou foi em 2001: Petkovic marcou um gol espetacular contra o Vasco, lá onde a coruja dorme, garantindo o quarto tricampeonato carioca do Mengão. Vou repetir: o Flamengo ganhava o campeonato carioca três vezes seguidas pela quarta vez, colocando mais uma estrela para o manto sagrado. Ninguém precisa ser flamenguista pra se maravilhar com o gol do sérvio, como vocês podem ver aqui.
E ontem o time da maior torcida do Brasil voltou a me emocionar, bem como a todos que foram ao Maraca ver o Flamengo ganhar, de um a zero, do líder isolado do campeonato, invicto há 16 partidas. Só que ontem eram 11 jogadores do São Paulo contra 70 mil rubro-negros.
Vocês não imaginam o número de emails que flamenguistas como eu recebem quando o Fla está na zona de rebaixamento. E é por isso que sigo feliz assoviando o hino do meu time, sabendo que não torço prum time que nasceu pra ser vice ou morrer na praia. O Flamengo, mesmo quando vai mal das pernas, consegue emocionar milhares de cariocas e de brasileiros.
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17 comentários:
Olha, sinto o mesmo que você em relação a futebol e ao meu time: Corinthians. Tá triste a situação, mas...
Bj Adri
a noite de ontem explica porque sou Flamengo, Arthur.
e o dia de hoje está mais feliz para a grande maioria dos brasileiros.
um abraço rubro-negro
É isso, malandro. NINGUÉM segura o Flamengo quando dá-se a química mágica que vimos ontem no maior estádio do mundo (o Maraca é e sempre será o maior estádio do mundo). Sempre foi assim e sempre será. Nelson Rodrigues, um tricolor empedernido, já havia dito que a camisa rubro-negra, o manto sagrado, ganha jogo sozinha. Quem é Flamengo sabe o que é isso. Quem não é, que se roa de inveja com o espetáculo de ontem... um troço que não se explica.
o que importa é que EU fui ao show com o arthur ontem.
Cadê o isqueiro?!
aqui tem um bando de louco
louco por ti Corinthians!!!!
eu sou Palmeirense.
e ponto final.
When constantly asked which was my favorite football club, Corinthians was always my answer. Carioca teams suck. Pure and simple. Who could I possibly root for in such a city?
Well...I really really really learned to hate Flamengo. C'mon the name flamengo sounds gay. Corinthians for example sounds so fuckin' cool.
Arthur man. Flamengo are the New York Yankees of brazilian football. Let the gente hate them with a passion.
Your friend Eduardo Goldenberg has been silent for many months but you have irritated him quite a bit it seems. He even invokes the late great NELSON. Does not Mr. Goldenberg yet see the abomination his and the late Nelson's beloved Flamengo have become?
God damn Flamengo and Mangueira too...
ABF rules all. Anybody But Flamengo futebol club!!!!!!!
Just look at the Flamengo emblem. It's so Masonic that it's sending me into convulsions. Masons rule Brazil. You're doomed. Three Powers Square in Brasilia? Doomed...
Oscar Niemeyer? Mason of the highest degree.
Let me tell you a story that explains it all. It happened on the Avenida Niemeyer one early morning.
The dogs were barking like crazy for some reason as I left my house. It was 6:30am and an unusual time for the dogs to be barking. Only the waves of the Atlantic could rival the k-9 cacophoney that particular morning.
Traffic on the Niemeyer was at a complete standstill. Shit. Had to walk down to Leblon to catch another bus so I could arrive to work on time. So I began to walk north.
I knew something real bad had happened when I saw the south bound favelados heading toward me. They were all crying. Shit, if they were crying then it had to real bad. Very little can move a south bound favelado to cry. What lay around the corner had to be bad.
There it was...the scene of the accident. The S-20 had smashed a southbound Kombi to smithereens. What was all the fuss? What had driven the hardest of all people (south bound favelados) to tears? The human rag-doll hanging out the window of the kombi.
Up until then the sight of death was nothing but a spectacle for me. Some anonymous negrinho lying face down on the street with a pool of blood around him. How did he die? Gun shot or by auto? Did it matter?
The stray dogs timidly licking at the blood never moved me much. Odd how the havaiana's they wore still remained loyal to the feet who owned them. Pools of blood, Flamengo shirt and havaianas...
This was why the dogs were barking like crazy. They knew what was going on. Blood.
Kept walking but had to look. The body was as lifeless as a corpse could be. Bloodied surfer passengers hobbled toward the police car and arriving para-medics. Blood and glass everywhere. No high tide celebration that morning.
I knew the rag-doll. He was always there. Picking me up late at night while in a drunken stupor after yet another notorious night somewhere between Rua Gomes Carneiro and Rua Jose Linhares.
The Xacara, I called out as I handed him some Reais for change. The correct change I always received.
Why the big deal you ask? They didn't have to send me home in peace but they did. I was at their mercy and they treated me with some sort of universal dignity when it was not their obligation to do so.
Get it? I hope you do...
This was the event that got me the most. Everything I had experienced before was nothing. This taxed me beyond my proverbial credit limit. I could feel my soul being sucked out of me. Unlike the others I could not cry. I just kept walking...The fun was gone. Reality had hit hard. What was the point to anything?
The Niemeyer claimed so many. Many more than the police, the CV and ADA combined. It could have claimed me on many occasions.
Funny how my fellow travellers never acknowledged my presence at their bus stop but saved me on numerous occasions from getting splattered by a hurridly rushing southbound 175. Funny how I in turn saved them from the same fate. We never spoke. Funny that I am still alive to tell the tale.
So what do you all get with my presence? The one great truth I got from my 3 plus years living in Brazil was that it was no different from the USA. That should be a profound revelation to most of you. Same god damn things repeating itself over and over again.
I thought living up here would at least change some things. Not at all. When I go out the same craziness begins. A trip to the local grocery store is never routine.
Ms. Harris writes prose about LA. Don't you get it? Same shit different locale. Dona Grossa is everywhere and the beast is celebrating. We fight and then the violence comes. Don't we know who we are? Try to forget because if you remember then suffer the consequences...
Soon we'll have 3 hours difference with the time. Funny how that works. Sunlight is a powerful thing. Our masters worship it. Dark days are approaching.
The Brown's were arrested the other day. What was the Law they broke? A tax on labor? This is the work of caesar. Dont you forget about it. Jesus had some words for caesar.
Now Pilate must answer on Fox News. Bomb Iran and pay your taxes. The more you dont know then the more evil happens. Follow the obvious.
Who are you? Start asking yourselves this simple question.
Now Arthur man, you have instigated the wrath of Mr. Goldenberg. Eduardo is actually from Brooklyn, New York. He is a diehard Yankees fan.
To be honest I have no idea what to think of this guy. He is very much like me yet he never goes anywhere. So he is me never going anywhere. I know it's difficult to imagine such a thing but please try.
This Eduardo Goldenberg is a real hater. Casca man, this guy hates the USA more than you could ever fathom. His words and deeds sent nothing but icy terror up our gringo veins.
Then I look back at our 78 comment masterpiece. Nothing from Mr. Goldenberg. Just one comment from you Edu would have sent it over 100 comments. You said nothing and let Casca be the hero. Shame on you.
It was your moment to really kick me in the ass but you passed. WHY???? How could you drop the ball???
So here it is. Let's get it on. Think of the entertainment it could generate? Fuck, it's what the gente craves. Let's make history. I wont bomb your blog. What are you worried about? What everyone else thinks? Por fa fuckin vor...
We are both the same yet you choose to stay and I always choose to leave. You wanna be the mayor of Rio? It's very possible. Don't pretend you haven't thought about what could be.
Yes I will accept the fact you are the Duke of Vila Isabel but I am it's Prince. I still outrank you. Don't you get it?
The next time you look at that statue which is very prominate in your blog, you must remember one thing. It symbolizied my personal liberation. It's my shrine. Your view of it is abstract while mine is real. Please do not desecrate my shrine.
What does this mean? You Mr. Goldenberg are responsible for it. It's up to you to see through the dreams of the real royalty who have passed before us.
I dare you to one day walk with me in the cemetary of Sao Joao the Baptist in Bota-fuckin-fogo. I dare you to feel all of those souls clamoring at your feet while pleading with you to do SOMETHING.
Who are we? A sack of bones or men? My god what are you afraid of?!!?
Do it, man. The city is your's. Why do you sit back in the shadows and deny the obvious? Take it.
Ahhh you have seen what I have done to Casca. Yet this man never speaks from the heart. This was why I have been so merciless...
The others? Let them hate you. So fuckin' what? Teeezhhhhuuuuca is the heart and soul. The sacred center. You know it as much as I do.
I loved that bastard Pierre because he led the great rebellion of '04. I love a fighter. All previous animosity is cleared if you, the Duke of Vila Isabel, lead us into the good fight as well.
Yeah, it's a scary thing to do. Yet if you do this then the rest of us can go on. See the effect?
Stop the petty infighting and take what is yours. If you choose not to then I will never forgive you. Fight man. We will all rally around your banner...
My inevitable return to Rio de Janeiro. To be honest I never want to return to the place but I had impregnated a few women when I was there. At the age of 5 or 6 these women will want some sort of compensation for the children I helped seed.
Fuck...what can I do but the right thing. My ex-wife can kiss her flat ass because there are little Garrett's runiug around Rio.
It all started with Ilma. Yes Edu, you can thank your Dani for that one. Low and behold , 9 months after we break up she has a baby girl. Well who is the father? Do the math.
2008 is going to be a hectic year for me. God she ain't the only one from IBM, either. There were others. Dani Goldenberg would set them up like an assembly line. Lil' Garrett's runnin' all over Rio.
Arthur man, you were so concerned about not using a camasinha because of some disease. Shit...I got babies everywhere. Which is worse?
Fuck, gotta take some responsibility. Especially in Teeezhuuuca and Botafogo by 2009. Who is gonna pay for their education? Me of course...
Man I am so clean despite it all.
I have had 2 tests since I have been back and everything is negative. You're clean too. So let's celebrate!
Arthur, essa tua brincadeirinha de alter-ego em lingua estranegira já deu.
ÔÔÔÔÔÔÔ TODO PODEROSO TIMÃO! CHUPA BAMBI!
ahhh companheiro
nem me fale!
ontem fui ao fla flu
que tristeza... que tristeza!!!
Eu detesto o Flamengo mas não posso deixar de reconhecer as verdades que falou...
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