The hardest thing about being a sports star, a true patriot and even a 21-year-old boy with the mouth of a Mediterranean hero is that everyone expects something from you. You have no escape. Expectations run at a devilish speed, like small yellow balls propelled by a powerful right, yours, which has half the world throwing their hands up because rarely has a similar prodigy been seen at that age, while the other half is afraid. He asks what planet you came from, as if you were already to tennis what Diego Armando Maradona was to socialism.
These are the conditions from which one of the key factors in Carlos Alcaraz’s controversial wink with the phachosphere this week: the growing power of a global far-right that seems to have found in Spain the support that Hulk Hogan grants it in the United States of America, that is to say: the support of the fucking master in any of the many mass shows that cook and enrich the moral absenteeism of a growing part of society increasingly prone to disconnection. It is not expected to be the last either, by the way. Not even the penultimate one. Carlitos, which is what a legion of fans, fanatics and even sycophants, mostly unknown, call him in confidence, points to a long and prolific career on the track, but also to a vast production of barbabasadas outside of it.
His video in support of the agitator Ángel Gaitán has all the qualities one expects to find in any work of art of the facheríounderstanding the latter as the simplest, most plausible, and even necessary definition of the group of people so leaning to the right of the frightening ideological melting pot. The recipient of the message, for example, whom Alcaraz wants to thank for an almost messianic work after the scourge of the dana (“thank God that you are here,” he even tells him at one point), is a character who did not hesitate to offer your help in exchange for likes: The town that accumulated the most returns, the most punctures, would be the first to receive your collaboration. Also the level of misinformation displayed by the tennis player. “I will not stop thanking you for what you do for them, for Spain, and that you are in charge of a management that others should do,” he says. In command of what, Carlos, boy.
Nor should we lose sight of the fact that this Gaitán is a collaborator of Horizonthe program presented by Iker Jiménez where the same pro-Russian propaganda is shared, which announces the arrival of a UFO in Vilagarcía de Arousa or the hoax is spread that hundreds of corpses are crowded in a flooded parking lot, well hidden from our scrutiny by a pernicious and illegitimate Government: that is the niche to which Carlos Alcaraz voluntarily directs his affection and affection. That, and no other, seems to be his favorite corner of the court, exactly the opposite of the one Kylian Mbappé and several of his teammates chose during the Euro Cup.
The Real Madrid forward’s pulse did not tremble, nor did he speak, to ask the French people to go out and vote en masse against the threat of the extreme right. Just a few weeks later, Spain was proclaimed European champion, Dani Carvajal publicly insulted the President of the Government and Carlos Alcaraz celebrated the rebellion of the Spanish captain with a blow of I like it.Because he likeand not the classic bracelet, seems to be the new unit of measurement of true patriotism.
