Second parts of anything don’t usually come out as expected. I mean, of course there are exceptions, but just how feasible is the return of our athletes to the pitches around Mexico. Are they prepared? Are we?
Depending on the team you follow, we have been able to witness our heroes staying fit in their at home gyms doing their at home routines but any of you kind readers who have done or been a part of any sort of organized sports, amateur or otherwise, know for a fact that it is NEVER the same.
At home exercise might keep you in form (all those Jane Fonda Workout Videos sold in the 80's can’t have been for nothing) but they lack the intensity and the competitiveness necessary for continuous physical improvement. There isn’t any inspiration behind the perspiration.
In my opinion 2 factors need to be considered. One being the physical and emotional and the other all that is related to COVID-19 and making public places safe for us once again.
I’m going to talk about the former. When I was kid, many moons ago, I was pretty serious about sports. I played varsity baseball, football and soccer. Baseball was what I excelled at but I really loved soccer. My baseball coach used to tease me calling me a “Pambolero”.
In the year previous to my senior year we played our best futbol and won a place in a prestigious Cup to be played against teams from all over the world. Our coach, who just happened to have the last name Cardozo, whom we lovingly called “el Cacahuate”, decided that in order to get us ready to play in the International Cup we needed to become rock hard and be pushed to our full potential.
He signed us up in the over 25 league, which was made up of semi pros and wanna be’s who had never made it to the big leagues. It was very competitive and there were some fine players there. To call it a hard division would be an understatement, these guys were “mañosos” and knew all the tricks. Plus, they played hard and a loss to a bunch of “mocosos” was not a thing to be taken lightly. Surprisingly we didn’t do badly at all and made it to the quarter finals where we were matched up against a team we had barely won against during the regular season. This growth did not come without a cost. We started to learn from these experimented players and most of the growing process came with some hard knocks. Still we survived and fully expected to make it to the next round. We were young and cocky only as the young and unexperienced can be, without malice.
Cardozo aligned me on the left flank as our usual left back was suffering from a bruised thigh. I had a good left foot and was not impartial to sending three toed centers from my right boot. But Cardozo loved to put me there because I could fly. I was like a gazelle! A Cheetah! A Forrest Gump! When "el Profe" placed me there I made sure that everyone knew, propios y extraños, that “la banda izquierda” was mine.
And on that day I did just that. I was unstoppable. Those older guys couldn’t stop me. By half time I had sent two balls in “como con la mano” and we were up by two. But as I said I was cocky. Every time I scampered by one of their players I would smile. I think I even laughed a little, well more like cackled. This of course was not taken well by these older gents.
I should have known by their dirty looks as we walked off at half time that I needed to tone it down a bit. But hey, seventeen. Cocky. Ten minutes into the second half they had managed to score off a free kick and they were really pressing us, looking for the tie. It was a corner from right side, I was covering the first post.
Before I go on I need to ask, have you ever seen something “happen” just before it happens? Like envision it happening a split second before it does? Usually before something bad is going to happen. I must be a Jedi because Qui Gon Jin mentions it (He really does in: Star Wars, The Phantom Menace) as a Jedi trait. It’s like a warning from the One above.
As the ball left the strikers right foot, curving majestically, framed in the beautiful blue afternoon sky, I saw in my inner eye, a dirt encrusted elbow coming towards me, I turned right before it made contact, slamming my head into the right post. Those that witnessed it said I landed on my feet, said something like “Ay Cabrón” and fell like a brick into the dust covered pitch.
When I woke up, there was a group of people around me, a lot of light and shadows. One guys voice kept repeating “¿Cuantos dedos puedes ver?” At first I didn’t understand, I had been unconscious, my brain wasn’t working right. I couldn’t see any dedos. I got scared. But hey. Seventeen. It would pass.
They dragged me off the field, head spinning. Couldn’t see a thing. It didn’t pass. They took me to the Doctor. Desprendimiento de retina. Operation. Out for the rest of the season. Luckily just a couple of months. But two months where I was not able to do any rigorous physical activity. I home trained. Levantamiento de tarro and lanzamiento de bachicha! JK! JK!
Eventually I found my footing again, but that year, when the time came for prepping the International Cup I wasn’t up to par. Physically I was in good shape. My doctor gave me the go ahead, at least for the bench. But mentally I wasn’t there. The rest of the team was competitive, at the top of their game. They’d been practicing all summer. I was slow, was easily fatigued, and my mind wasn’t on the game. What had been second nature to me was out of line. I had momentarily lost my mojo.
I imagine all la ligas returning athletes will come back sans Mojo. Imagine being cooped up. Yes, yes, doing something to stay fit, watching their diet, but still not competitive. There is only so much you can do on a Stair Master. The edge will not be there.
So, lets imagine the league starts up where it left off. Factor two comes in, COVID-19 preparedness.
The boys are back in town playing in empty stadiums. Gone is the vibe brought by the roaring crowds, the cánticos, the elation of being the center of attention, surrounded by thousands of screaming voices raised as one: CHIVAS!!! CHIVAS!!! CHIVAS!!!
It won’t be there. I’m sure they will give a one hundred and one percent of themselves, after all they are also dying to be back on the pitch and they are pro’s, but I ask myself, how long will that last? All you need to do is go back to the Chivas vs Monterrey game, played behind closed doors. Guadalajara seemed destined to win the match and came out strong. But slowly, the game fell into an insipid back and forth. Both teams seemed to want it to end. And it did in a tie.
Segundas partes nunca fueron buenas. Even less so after COVID-19. Lots of things will have to change for us to come back to the stadiums. So why rush it? Why not take it slow and prepare for a triumphant come back? Don’t all those involved deserve it?
I love futbol and I miss my Chivas. But I WANT TO BE THERE IN PERSON when we come back, to give THEM/US the Welcome that THEY, that WE deserve. We have already waited so long. What’s a little bit more?
