A good soccer fan friend says that in this matter of soccer you have to have a thesis and maintain it no matter how much the evidence or facts indicate that we have made a mistake in its formulation. As an example, he usually gives that there are clubs with a winning mystique and that is reason enough for the hopes of their followers to increase. My friend says that, in addition, this thesis of a winning gene frightens rivals and conditions the result of no matter what soccer draw because that mystique should be balanced with some other element that would turn the future confrontation into a fairer contest. In conclusion, my friend considers that this mystique is almost doping and alters the good sense of competition.
My friend considered that his thesis had once again been confirmed at the Bernabéu. And of course, when I saw that Bayern was ahead and that Real Madrid had come back again in the last incredible 10 minutes, I had a first temptation to confirm the theory and accept the reasoning as if that first magical night of that new Santiago Bernabéu came to confirm that neither the works nor the changes altered that sea of positive energies that have been generated since time immemorial, as if the thing were almost more a matter of witches and shamans than of magnificent players united to their audience by that magical rope emotional that tells them that everything is possible even when reality seems to point in the opposite direction.
But it also occurred to me to think about who Real Madrid’s rival was and I thought that if there is another team united in that winning mystique, it is, was it?, Bayern Munich and, by extension, German football. This is the moment in which one turns to Gary Lineker and his exact definition of football as that game of 11 against 11 and where Germany wins, a thesis that had also been confirmed on both sides, when the mystical German winner dressed in Borussia yellow Dortmund had managed to eliminate the anti-mystical PSG, a team built to win the Champions League but which the gods of Olympus do not admit into their select club.
It would seem that Bayern is that rival that you never want to cross because you don’t know how but they are going to beat you. That club, that football in which sometimes due to quality and other times due to conviction they beat you with a certain point of arrogance as if the closer you had been to victory they would have been sure that they were going to end up beating you. If you want an example of those that I like so much, we can look at Manuel Neuer, an enormous goalkeeper, enormous charisma and a born competitor who jumped onto the pitch at the Bernabéu willing to measure the value of each mystic and convinced that the Bavarian is the best and the more reliable. It would seem that Neuer came out with a kryptonite shirt that undid the white mystical power and that made up the entire mystique of the great Teutonic goalkeepers, great for quality, enormous for personality, when he got tangled in the simplest ball and there came Joselu, one of those who always believe, to tie the tie and turn the Bavarian hero into a mortal.
They say that the Teutonic gods have been confused since they began to wonder how to win instead of simply winning and that’s it, and that this has broken all the trust, all the positive energies, and they are more in doubt than in certainty. with which we saw them walking before.
The fact is that if there is a place to measure mystics and mythological matters, I can’t think of a better one than Wembley, a place of legends, a magnificent yardstick of emotions and achievements, where the white wave is going to meet a yellow one that will come without complexes. .
Great match, great stadium, great final.
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