When hedonism and football went hand in hand we felt butterflies in our stomach. We used to get nervous before the opening whistle of a game. We were salivating waiting for the moment when the cameraman focused on our idol internalizing the anthem or singing it at the top of his lungs. Hedonistic pleasure is linked to that summer aspiration of enjoying national team football, league rivalries put aside, everyone united at the gates of the summer holidays by a feeling of belonging that encourages us to defend certain colors. And to enjoy in community. To enjoy the moment. A goal, a play, a shot. The beauty, plasticity and unknowns of football – who would have bet on Georgia as Spain’s rival in the round of 16? – give us unique moments of happiness. The same as them, the footballers, our pagan gods, make us vibrate with their filigrees and their shots.
That was, of course, when hedonism and football went hand in hand. Not these days. Pragmatism has taken over the game, which is a little less fun today in exchange for being played efficiently. The best example is Southgate’s England, who qualified for the last 16 as group winners and were the subject of debate in all the pubs in the United Kingdom for their dull play and the feeling that they were wasting their resources, which are many. The English are the paradigm of this Euro, in which none of the favourites have charmed us, nor have any of their stars made us jump for joy. We have barely any glimpses left. A dribble by Cristiano that did not end in a goal. And a goal in two halves by Modric, a missed penalty in between, which did not serve to win or qualify. Croatia was, in fact, the worst of the third-placed teams.
We may still be warming up, there may be teams that still have room for growth, those that have made a mistake in their approach may correct it, or those that have played with their sights off may find better luck. But this Eurocup is still waiting for its stars.
There has been so much talk about Mbappé in the days leading up to the tournament that, at times, we forget that we come to this tournament eager to enjoy the best Kylian, now that, in addition, we are counting the days to see how he cheers up our particular backyard, the league cotarro. But Mbappé broke his nose in his first game, did not play in the second and did everything he could in the third, wearing a protective mask, until he provoked a play that ended in a penalty and which he himself converted. That is his record of service. For now.
We haven’t seen Bellingham shine either. Nor Kane. Nor Foden. Probably dragged down by the discreet and unambitious play of their national team. Their case is less hopeful than that of France, in whom we see more intention, more danger in the vicinity of the area.
Modric has not been able to, and will not be able to, excel. He was dismissed with his MVP trophy on one of the saddest nights of his career. Neither will Lewandowski, unable to breathe enough energy into Poland. Neither of them are in the last 16 draw. Neither is Ukraine, led by Dovbyk, the top scorer in the league. And Belgium still has time for its leader, De Bruyne, to do so.
We will always have Cristiano’s quadriceps and the power of his football to put the icing on the cake for a Portugal that has worked hard. And the art of passing of Kroos, the compass of a Germany that has had a better presentation card than predicted by many, with names that are beginning to be more present than future: Wirtz and Musiala. We also do not lose hope that the Euro will give birth to new idols, such as Arda Güler or the Spaniards Lamine Yamal and Nico Williams, the freshest and most surprising thing seen in German lands.
Let the round of 16 begin and adrenaline-filled football return to our summer afternoons.
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