Erik Riesenberg de PromoLatino comparte con La Bloga sugerencias de lectura para los aficionados al fútbol o los que quieran hacerse pasar por uno:
¿Dónde se jugó la primera Copa Mundial? ¿Cuándo fue
transmitido por radio el Mundial por primera vez? ¿Existe una tarjeta negra y
para qué es utilizada? ¿Quién dijo, «Un partido sin goles es como un domingo
sin sol»? ¿Un árbitro puede meter un gol? ¿Quién metió el gol más lejano
anotado mediante un cabezazo?
Si no sabes las respuestas a estas preguntas, no estás
preparado para el Mundial. Cada aficionado conoce detalles sobre su equipo, pero
muchos no saben sobre este juego internacional. “Hay tres libros que
recomendamos leer para que uno sea el experto de su grupo. Las batallas durante
el mundial no solo ocurren en la cancha sino que también entre los espectadores”,
comenta Mercedes Conte de BajaLibros.com, un sitio web que se especializa en
libros electrónicos. Para que los aficionados se vayan preparando para
sorprender a sus amigos con su conocimiento del fútbol, les recomendamos los
siguientes libros:
Historias insólitas del fútbol
Una encuesta publicada antes del Mundial de Francia 1998
determinó que el 95 por ciento de los hombres de entre 20 y 34 años respondió
que prefiere pasar noventa minutos frente al televisor viendo el partido de su
equipo antes de hacer el amor con la mujer de sus sueños.
Muchísimos árbitros han sido autores involuntarios de un
gol. El reglamento es claro en ese sentido: «Si el balón está en juego y toca
al árbitro o a un árbitro asistente que se encuentra temporalmente en el
terreno de juego, el juego continuará ya que el árbitro y los árbitros
asistentes forman parte del partido».
El 25 de septiembre de 2011, el delantero noruego Jone
Samuelsen rompió un récord muy extraño: marcó el gol más lejano anotado
mediante un cabezazo de 57 metros de la valla rival.
¿Sabías que existe una tarjeta negra? Cuando el árbitro
inglés Ken Aston inventó las tarjetas, jamás imaginó que pudieran ser
utilizadas en contra de alguno de sus colegas. Esto pasó el 1 de noviembre de
1992 cuando un árbitro asistente fue expulsado por evidente parcialidad a favor
de un equipo local.
· «El fútbol no es una cosa de vida o
muerte, es algo mucho más serio que eso».
-- Bill Shankly, premiado gerente del
equipo Liverpool
«Durante los años de entreguerras el
fútbol hizo más que ninguna otra cosa por hacer
soportable la vida de los
desempleados». -- George Orwell, el autor de 1984
·
« «Todo lo que sé de la moralidad de los
hombres lo aprendí jugando al
fútbol».
- --Albert Camus, autor y filosofo
«El asunto más difícil es encontrar algo
para reemplazar al fútbol, porque hay nada».
-- el autor John Keegan
·
«Un partido sin goles es como un domingo
sin sol».
-- el poeta Di Stéfano
- · El primer Mundial transmitido por radio fue en 1934 en Italia. Mussolini, su líder en ese entones, decidió montar un dispositivo en los estadios para que puedan radiarse los partidos a todo el mundo. La emisora RAI cobró 10.000 liras por la utilización del dispositivo. Doce países pagaron el servicio y transmitieron sus partidos, así que puede decirse que este fue el primer Mundial «tecnológico».
- · La primera Copa Mundial fue jugada en Uruguay en 1930. El fútbol había entrado en los Juegos Olímpicos por primera vez en Londres, en 1908, a título de exhibición y con sólo cinco participantes. En Estocolmo, en 1912, hubo ocho participantes y volvió a ganar Inglaterra. Tras la Primera Guerra Mundial, que impidió los Juegos Olímpicos de 1916, se reanudó la competición olímpica en 1920, en Amberes, donde en fútbol ganó Bélgica. En aquella ocasión participaron catorce equipos.
- · Pero el estirón vendría en 1924, en Francia. La participación subió a veintidós equipos; por primera vez jugaron algunos de fuera de Europa (Uruguay, Estados Unidos, Egipto y Turquía) y Uruguay demostró que el fútbol podía ser otra cosa. El Francia-Uruguay de cuartos de final reunió a más de 45.000 personas. Aquel boom hizo pensar a muchos que el fútbol ya podría volar solo con su propia competencia internacional y 6 años después, Uruguay fue su primer anfitrión latinoamericano.
COPA POÉTICA - FÚTBOL POEMS
By Yago S. Cura
BRAZIL vs CROATIA (3-1) / WORLD CUP 2014
Croatia comes out the gate a feral badger about to fission
into this multi-million
paradise repetition. But early on, tempranito, Brazil’s Marcelo deflects un centro
into goal, completely on “auto,” which gives Croatia a chance to spread their elbows
and throw a little muscle. But, then it starts to get ugly and Neymar elbows Croatia’s
paradise repetition. But early on, tempranito, Brazil’s Marcelo deflects un centro
into goal, completely on “auto,” which gives Croatia a chance to spread their elbows
and throw a little muscle. But, then it starts to get ugly and Neymar elbows Croatia’s
number ten when they both go up for a header. Eventually, Oscar
manages to slink a pass
to Neymar who kinks it in katty-corner on impromptu
verve and sheer atomic gusto.
Nishimura (ref) starts to get spooked by open Immobilization Screed and calls a bullshit
call inside the box because Fred (Guedes) starts doing Puppet Fish:
fake-fizzle, epileptic-
dipshit-Grand-Puba-Dance and contracts a penalty kick,
which of course, Neymar sinks
like a bad bleach job. In the end, though, it’s
Oscar’s puntazo that hands Brazil
victory on their territory, on their turf, on their promontory
cathedrals and oily lagunas.
ODE TO LA JABULANI
The technology of exertion disposes
one to think hand-stitching “effeminate”
when you can thermal-bond hexagons
and make balón almost like a waterproof
ion or synthetic cannonball,
a mole of pure bouyancy
in three, bloody dimensions.
Balón, pelota, has always been
a souvenir thing from Deflection.
For instance, Tecnico Narcisas
use to layer a sock with socks
one to think hand-stitching “effeminate”
when you can thermal-bond hexagons
and make balón almost like a waterproof
ion or synthetic cannonball,
a mole of pure bouyancy
in three, bloody dimensions.
Balón, pelota, has always been
a souvenir thing from Deflection.
For instance, Tecnico Narcisas
use to layer a sock with socks
to form a stark, marble pit-heart.
And, kids in Africa use masking tape
And, kids in Africa use masking tape
to conflate their Drogba dreams to overlap
their worship of Eto's elan.
It’s this lack of technology that propels
the indigent savants of the "beautiful
game" towards manicured salaries
their worship of Eto's elan.
It’s this lack of technology that propels
the indigent savants of the "beautiful
game" towards manicured salaries
television spots selling mouthwash
and disposable razors to chavs,
coolies, and shoguns.
Adidas claims this is the most accurate
most round football to roll on pitch
Adidas claims this is the most accurate
most round football to roll on pitch
as if the pitch were a ping-pong verandah
or a table devoid of inconsistency.
The pitch is all elbows and kinks
and even the most Barishnikov of strikers
will admit that they just propel and channel
or a table devoid of inconsistency.
The pitch is all elbows and kinks
and even the most Barishnikov of strikers
will admit that they just propel and channel
the celebration innate in the rolling.
ODE TO LEONEL MESSI
Oh Messi, the words don’t like to heel;
they rear up like coked-up Clydesdales
to stamp the tales of your devious feet.
It’s just that you’re a meñique Loki—
an algebra prodigy with filthy squaw hair,
a mischief wick, Pre-Cambrian fireworks
display, you’re like nighttime diving from
the Concussion Quarry. Messi, your tech is
so untextbook—I want to stun each cell
of the reel where your feet call the shots.
Faster than fast, surpassing speeding
catalysts of exponential acceleration:
Messi you are like ten ton cubes of pins,
toothpicks, and shattered plate glass
by Tara Donovan.
they rear up like coked-up Clydesdales
to stamp the tales of your devious feet.
It’s just that you’re a meñique Loki—
an algebra prodigy with filthy squaw hair,
a mischief wick, Pre-Cambrian fireworks
display, you’re like nighttime diving from
the Concussion Quarry. Messi, your tech is
so untextbook—I want to stun each cell
of the reel where your feet call the shots.
Faster than fast, surpassing speeding
catalysts of exponential acceleration:
Messi you are like ten ton cubes of pins,
toothpicks, and shattered plate glass
by Tara Donovan.
We expect your currency in malicious slide tackles,
oodles of shin splits, and cleats in muscle’s mignon.
Maybe the growth hormone Barcelona bought for you
held the genetic credit of petite assassin panthers?
oodles of shin splits, and cleats in muscle’s mignon.
Maybe the growth hormone Barcelona bought for you
held the genetic credit of petite assassin panthers?
Or, the supersonic locura that drives
greyhounds bonkers and makes them chase
lures in fashionable muzzles and pennies.
ODE TO TIM HOWARD
O Lord! they tell me there is a new tradition
of American goal keepers. They say Tim is Vanguard,
deflecting penalties at Everton, pimp-slapping
forwards who feel the new Yank is a 'kant or poof.
O Lord! they tell me Tim suffers from an inexcusable
disease of the brain which allows him not to sieve
the analog torrent, but he interviews like a paladin
manufacturer of Formula One brake pads.
O Lord! they tell me there is a new tradition
of American goal keepers. They say Tim is Vanguard,
deflecting penalties at Everton, pimp-slapping
forwards who feel the new Yank is a 'kant or poof.
O Lord! they tell me Tim suffers from an inexcusable
disease of the brain which allows him not to sieve
the analog torrent, but he interviews like a paladin
manufacturer of Formula One brake pads.
His cucumber cool is the dismal truth concerning
Disabilities.
But, does that mean that he did not have to overhaul
the wiring in his brain once the palisades of New Jersey
were being supplanted by Liverpool's greener pastures?
O Lord! how could you make the weak more like your image
of the fire-breathing, unequivocal pillar? O Lord! why such magnamity
But, does that mean that he did not have to overhaul
the wiring in his brain once the palisades of New Jersey
were being supplanted by Liverpool's greener pastures?
O Lord! how could you make the weak more like your image
of the fire-breathing, unequivocal pillar? O Lord! why such magnamity
among your meekest scions and parking meter decapitators?
O Lord! how could you overcompensate so egregiously
on Howard's splicing, giving him the sentience of X-Men
and Psy-Opps Sentinel Ordinance Bots?
O Lord! why even mention there is an index
of syndromes, a litany of diseases ripe for the claiming,
O Lord! how could you overcompensate so egregiously
on Howard's splicing, giving him the sentience of X-Men
and Psy-Opps Sentinel Ordinance Bots?
O Lord! why even mention there is an index
of syndromes, a litany of diseases ripe for the claiming,
a mirage of afflictions and disorders?
O Lord! Tim Howard can intuit where the ball might
roam, zip codes of vector trajectory, the span of balón's bounce,
Conditional Happenstance Statistician.
O Lord! Berbatov's boudoir love-penalty
so as not to gun down ex-mate after Cahill's
mustang banger.
O Lord! after he stopped Ferdinand's penalty,
I thought Wembly was going to splinter into timbers.
O Lord! Tim Howard can intuit where the ball might
roam, zip codes of vector trajectory, the span of balón's bounce,
Conditional Happenstance Statistician.
O Lord! Berbatov's boudoir love-penalty
so as not to gun down ex-mate after Cahill's
mustang banger.
O Lord! after he stopped Ferdinand's penalty,
I thought Wembly was going to splinter into timbers.
ONE DAY BEFORE 2014 CUP
Mata, martial chipper, finisher, PhD in Double-Tap
Striking Viking;
James Rodriguez, Monaco buzzflap, scalpel incubator,
Colombian Dolomite;
Matty Ryan, General in Yellow, Sergeant of Arms of Arms,
Flipping Booter;
Aissa Mandi, wizard of dribbling, he springs goals from
their penitentiaries;
Jo, daddy long legs, works the box like a boxing bag with
sine loco jabs;
Aguero, el Kun, B Boy Big Kahuna, face musher,
hockey body checker;
Neyman, smirker, Dirk Diggler juggling most fluorescent
tennis ball;
Dempsey, goofball, Howitzer technician, shoots from
outside the Possible;
Boateng, floater, cumulous bombardier, galloping
cloud seeder sans spurs;
Podolski, femur blaster, leg munitionist, Germany’s
Roiling Rockette;
Forlan, tiny witch, hand-to-hand crone spanking
the snot out the balon.
Striking Viking;
James Rodriguez, Monaco buzzflap, scalpel incubator,
Colombian Dolomite;
Matty Ryan, General in Yellow, Sergeant of Arms of Arms,
Flipping Booter;
Aissa Mandi, wizard of dribbling, he springs goals from
their penitentiaries;
Jo, daddy long legs, works the box like a boxing bag with
sine loco jabs;
Aguero, el Kun, B Boy Big Kahuna, face musher,
hockey body checker;
Neyman, smirker, Dirk Diggler juggling most fluorescent
tennis ball;
Dempsey, goofball, Howitzer technician, shoots from
outside the Possible;
Boateng, floater, cumulous bombardier, galloping
cloud seeder sans spurs;
Podolski, femur blaster, leg munitionist, Germany’s
Roiling Rockette;
Forlan, tiny witch, hand-to-hand crone spanking
the snot out the balon.
Yago S. Cura is the author of Rubberroom, and a former NYC
Teaching Fellow. In 2010, he co-wrote Odas a Futbolistas with Abel Folgar and
has completed Postcard Feats with C.S. Carrier and Jim Heavily. Yago’s poetry
has appeared in Kweli, PALABRA, Versal, Borderlands, Lungfull!, COMBO, LIT,
U.S. Latino Review, 2nd Avenue, Exquisite Corpse, FIELD, and Slope. Yago’s reviews
have appeared in The St. Mark’s Poetry Project Newsletter. Along with Ryan
Nance, he is the co-founder of the Copa Poetica (http://copapoetica.us), a
three day reading series in Los Angeles on the rest days of the 2014 World Cup.
His Spanglish blog, Spicaresque, has had more than 37,000 visitors. He can be
contacted via e-mail at yago@hinchasdepoesia.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment