Originally I had planned to write a few articles and read a few books during this period, but now basically all of that has come to nothing. Because the World Cup is simply too captivating, not only have I hardly missed a single post-exam match, I’ve also been too excited during the day to have any 마음 to read. Hehe, after all, the World Cup comes only once every four years; wasting a bit of time can be understood, can’t it?
This World Cup has truly been exciting. Although the refereeing has been less than perfect, it is much better than last time. The traditional powerhouses have mostly played as expected, and the later matches have almost all been clashes at the very summit.
Aside from England being rather disappointing, this year’s semifinalists are almost all the teams that excite me the most. Although I had originally been more eager to see Brazil, given that Zidane has “returned from the dead,” I now have even greater expectations for France’s semifinal.
By the way, I should explain that I’m actually not much of a football fan. Usually I just watch casually, don’t keep track of star players or teams, and know very little about football technique. I only throw myself in wholeheartedly when a tournament like the World Cup comes around, enjoying the uniquely passionate excitement and joy of football for a while. When I talk about football, I’m just chatting off the cuff, so fans should please not take offense.
Watching football absolutely requires a live broadcast; if you have to watch a recording, it’s best not to know the result in advance. Watching highlight reels, goal compilations, or even news reports hardly counts as “watching football” at all. The charm of football lies precisely in its uncertainty. Unlike basketball and the like, where you score one and I score one, a football match has at most only three, five goals. Those goals will occur at a sudden moment, in an unexpected way; one goal is enough to decide life or death. Before the referee blows the whistle to stop play, anything can happen. Some matches are fiercely open, others cautious and dull, but who knows what will happen the next moment? Only by throwing oneself wholeheartedly into the suspenseful process of a football match can one truly feel its charm.
Some people say football should learn from tennis and use high-tech means for officiating—for example, using video to judge disputed offside calls and the like. The head referee in football is absolute authority on the pitch; his naked eye can make mistakes, and he may even be involved in corruption, bribery, and so on. Doing one’s best to pursue fairness is of course right, but the referee’s subjectivity is also one of football’s “variables.” Before the referee blows the whistle to stop the match, anything can happen—that is precisely the charm of football.
The charm of football also lies in its passion. Some time ago, Huang Jianxiang’s commentary caused quite a stir. I was undoubtedly in support of Huang Jianxiang. Football commentary is not news broadcasting; if football commentary isn’t passionate and surging, then when can one be passionate? And without mixing in personal feeling, how could one possibly fake passion? Of course, Huang Jianxiang’s understanding of football, grasp of the situation, and analysis are all first-rate—that is the prerequisite. Pure passion alone would only lead to random shouting, which obviously won’t do. But when one’s professional competence is solid, commenting like a man is even more admirable.
Maybe I’ll write a separate article about the Huang Jianxiang incident in a couple of days. For now, no matter who is doing the commentary, let’s look forward to the exciting semifinals.
Among the four semifinalists, the player I admire most is probably Zidane. He finally “returned as king” in the match against Brazil, which made me switch sides at the last moment and support France instead. Zidane seems to have been born the “king” of the green pitch. He doesn’t have the most outstanding attacking power, and his technique isn’t especially dazzling either. But he is fully worthy of the titles “magician” and “artist.” The football art he performs is neither the flashy tricks of Ronaldinho, nor the beautiful curve of Beckham. Zidane expresses his art not only with his feet, but with the entire team. He is a “conductor,” an organizer and director; he organizes the whole team to perform together. With him on the pitch, it is as if one can string together individual beautiful notes into a more beautiful and splendid movement. This is the true magician, not some mere juggler.
Still, if we’re talking about my favorite team, it would unquestionably have to be Italy. My liking for the Italian team differs from that of old fans who are fond of Serie A. As for my first impression of Italy, it probably counts as love at first sight for that blue jersey—that is my favorite color. What ultimately made me “settle on” Italy was their style of play—eternal “defense and counterattack”!
Football is an activity full of passion, and many fans probably prefer attacking styles. Defensive counterattack not only has many people who dislike it, but also不少 people who express contempt and disgust. This is perfectly normal. Some like it and some hate it—this is precisely a sign of personality. If something is liked by the majority, then generally it won’t have such a distinct personality. Besides, Italy’s defensive counterattack is not passionless. It is not the kind of conservative tactic some teams adopt after lucking into a one- or two-goal lead and then retreating into a shell. For Italy, defensive counterattack is the norm: when cautious, it is defensive counterattack; when aggressive, it is still defensive counterattack.
Another word associated with Italy may be “slow to heat up.” By sound alone, that doesn’t seem like a flattering term, but it is also one of the reasons I like Italy—because it’s just like me! Defensive counterattack, slow to heat up—this fits my style perfectly.
As a person, whether in how I treat others and handle affairs, or in terms of thought and philosophy, I am defensive counterattack + slow to heat up. I rarely launch vigorous, proactive attacks, but that does not necessarily mean I lack passion, and even less does it mean weakness. When friends encounter my occasionally perhaps infuriating temperament and way of thinking, they might as well think of Italy’s defensive counterattack and slow start…
Apart from Italy, the team I rate most highly is Germany. In fact, from a rational point of view, I may even support Germany more. Keywords associated with the German team, such as “whole” and “tenacity,” are all things I like. I even think that compared with Italy, Germany’s style of play is more suited to football. This does not contradict my liking Italy best. Like, admire, support, rate highly—these words are not the same in pairs, and I think I distinguish them fairly clearly: I like Italy best, admire Germany most, support both teams, and relatively speaking I rate Germany just a little bit higher.
My “pluralist” temperament and way of thinking may at first glance seem hard to pin down, but in fact it is quite simple. Pluralism means that some completely opposite things may simultaneously be things I admire. Of course I will like things that resemble myself, but even things whose temperament or viewpoint is utterly opposed to my own may be things I like, admire, or support (and things I dislike may also be things I support). If friends still feel confused or even annoyed by my “pluralist” temperament, the simplest way to understand it may be this: there is almost nothing I hate. If you say to me, “I like (admire/rate highly) XXX,” then one can expect me to respond something like: “Mm, that really is good; I quite like it too. But it may also have some drawbacks, and by the way, another option might also be不错…” But if you say to me, “I hate XXX (XXX is wrong / terrible / utterly worthless),” then I will very likely make an effort to defend it. The pluralist way of thinking is actually quite simple, isn’t it?
I don’t know all that much about Portugal. I can only recognize one player, Figo. But now that I’ve witnessed Ricardo’s “soul possession,” I’m worshipping him with complete devotion… I think no team would want to be dragged into a penalty shootout with Portugal. Although I’m not optimistic about Portugal winning the championship, if that were really to happen, it would count as quite a legend, and that wouldn’t be bad, would it? In short, whichever of the remaining four teams ultimately wins would be enough to drive me crazy… so… these past two days I’ve been a bit crazy myself, speaking in a disjointed way and unable to write anything serious, so I’ll just write casually.
July 4, 2006
Latest comments
- Gu
2006-07-05 05:52:25
Italy 2:0 Germany
The most exciting match I have seen so far. A perfect embodiment of football’s charm. Both sides played well, the head coaches made no major mistakes and there were no major misjudgments, the players’ emotions were also very good, the whole match flowed so smoothly; the process itself was exciting, and at the very last moment it reached a climax, with the result also just as I wished… simply a perfect match~
Before the match I couldn’t sleep; now I can’t sleep even more…
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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