I’m writing this while watching another football match with no fans in the stadium. The deafening noise of the supporters is now replaced by loud screams that can be heard and kick the ball. I don’t know if the “round” has a microphone, but every punch, every shot, every ball in the iron has as much magic as the slang that the players throw in the air and each other.
Lots of people talk about “garlic” but I’ve never seen any of them exchange a recipe or how to make a stew. I know there are few soccer games on the open canal, but shouldn’t they have a red ball in the corner too? It’s not that it’s only content for people over 18, but when there are so many restrictions on saying mistakes on TV, it seems football has the ability to open that path. Go on, am * rda is already trivialized, but it’s the only one. This week I also heard a person on a soap opera say another word that starts with “goat” but ends with “ão”. It didn’t shock me at all, but are we going to trivialize television language starting with soccer?
The “yellow card for protests” made us dream and think about which family member of the referee or which physical characteristics he offended. Most of the time, the point is to wholeheartedly reveal your mother’s (allegedly dishonest) profession. At least that’s what the experience in the stadium told me, but today I’m sure. As a football fan, I prefer to be in the stadium, but as a lover of the Portuguese language, it’s a lot more fun that way.
In fact, football has always taught me a lot. My first geography courses were in the Champions League and previous UEFA Cup games. Today I don’t learn that much about European cities anymore, but I have learned a lot of international colloquial language, which also gives me a lot in adulthood. If there is one thing that connects people in any country in the world, it is knowing how to say a good and liberating f *** – in their native language.
When I got back to football, I was always curious to know what the coaches were shouting for the field or what they were trying to convey with these gestures, all of which mimic a signal cop from the 70s. Commentators said: “The frenzy and energy of the fans is so intense that the players don’t hear what the coaches are saying”. Well, the Covid-19 “offered” silence to help the coaches communicate. Nobody expected the players to yell at each other very loudly too.
Covid-19 “offered” silence to facilitate communication for the coaches. Nobody expected the players to yell at each other very loudly too.
And when did we see a player roll around in pain with a clear expression of pain and agony? We didn’t hear him scream, but we almost missed the pain. I mean, we felt it depending on the color of the shirt, it always hurts more when it meets ours. The absences are still harsh, but there is one constant that has intrigued me: Those who scream the most rarely feel pain. Why are they screaming so much?
I don’t know, but I think they just want attention. Yes, each of them wants to be the center of attention and the call is just a code for “Come on, whistle for me”. I will not deny that this modality has a whole new appeal. I really miss going home, but I know that when I hear real linguistic gems, I will miss these days too.