Contents
Read on one page Contents
Page 1The European Championship for Old Men
Page 2The Dorian Gray Syndrome
The Italian journalist said that he actually had only one request for him, Luka Modrić, up there on the podium. Before that, he had simply thanked him, the Croatian man of sorrows, who had just conceded the equalizer with his team in the last second in the match against Italy. For all the beautiful things that Modrić had given people throughout his career, and again that evening. And now he asked him to please never stop doing that.
It was one of the best moments so far at this European Championship for old men. The tournament is a long farewell tour of men who don’t want to leave. Many more could follow. Also because we, the spectators, the fans, the lovers of the game, won’t let them go.
It is a European Championship in which the 41-year-old, bald-headed defender Pepe, for Portugal, uses his decades-honed art of anticipation to pluck the ball from the feet of opposing strikers before they even feel it on their feet.
In which 35-year-old Robert Lewandowski recognized the opposing goalkeeper’s illegal dance off the line during a penalty and complained as it was happening. He then, of course, casually scored the repeated penalty.
In which 39-year-old Cristiano Ronaldo willingly and smilingly allows himself to be photographed during the game by a small boy who storms onto the field and, selflessly despite his age, he passes the ball, which he easily could have sunk into the goal, to the free man next to him.
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In which 38-year-old Manuel Neuer looks as if he wants to recreate the best saves of his long career. But now as deliberately staged works of art of invincibility. (Sometimes things go a little wrong…)
What we see when we see all these old men playing, in the sporting sense, is this incredible joy in the game. It is the art that comes from experience, when you have studied yourself and the game for so long that you can always think three or four moves ahead like a chess master. Like living AIs that have been fed with knowledge, moves, opponents’ tricks and mind games until they simply know everything that can happen. Artistic intelligence, you could say. This creates an incredible level of playing strength, as long as the body cooperates. But also, what is much more important for us: a new, age-wise joy in the game.
It was of course thanks to this experience that Modrić did not let himself sink to the ground in pity after his missed penalty, but simply carried on immediately, dropped back briefly and then slid forward again, and half a minute later he had scored his goal after all.
He was later substituted, and when nobody expected the Italians to equalize in the 98th minute, the camera panned to the Croatian bench and we saw Luka Modrić biting his shirt in fear during Italy’s last attack, and three seconds later the ball was in the net. And then we saw him again later, with deep furrows on his face and the saddest eyes in the world, holding the Man of the Match trophy in his hands. It seemed like a mockery in the hands of this selfless team player at the moment of defeat.
The Italian journalist said that he actually had only one request for him, Luka Modrić, up there on the podium. Before that, he had simply thanked him, the Croatian man of sorrows, who had just conceded the equalizer with his team in the last second in the match against Italy. For all the beautiful things that Modrić had given people throughout his career, and again that evening. And now he asked him to please never stop doing that.
It was one of the best moments so far at this European Championship for old men. The tournament is a long farewell tour of men who don’t want to leave. Many more could follow. Also because we, the spectators, the fans, the lovers of the game, won’t let them go.
