Monday, June 30, 2008

Can You Hear the Drums, Fernando?

"Cometh the hour, cometh the man."
--Andy Gray

Nearly two days later and I'm still pumped for Spain and Fernando Torres. I watched the final again today. A victory for beauty over industry, for flair over cynicism. And nothing is more satisfying in the sports world than a team (or country) shedding a "Choker" label, particularly when those characterizations are unfair.

It had been a spotty tournament for Torres. He only netted twice and a case could be made he should have had half a dozen others. He was subbed in every match he started and if he didn't outwardly pout, the firm set of his jaw showed his displeasure.

All washed away with a moment of otherworldly brilliance. Every criticism. Every blade of poor luck. Forty-four years.

He had no right to get to the ball before the hapless Philip Lahm. He ate up the yards two-to-one and at maximum pace, fully stretched, he managed lift the ball over Lehmann and then lift himself over the keeper's hurtling mass in a display of balance rivaling a world class ballet dancer.

Felicidades España and El Niño.


At 4:19 AM, Blogger The Bracelet said...

I would have attempted to juke the keeper as well. They didn't call me One Too Many for nothing.

At 10:22 AM, Blogger Irritable Male Syndrome said...

One Too Many touches? That makes perfect sense now!

At 10:40 AM, Blogger Joe Speaker said...

No kidding. I feel like the tumblers of the Universe have finally clicked and I understand everything.

At 11:08 AM, Blogger Joaquin "The Rooster" Ochoa said...

El Nino!!! He handled the ball and the pressure of the goalie coming at him like The Rooster. that is why Watsonville plays the most beautiful game in california...holla!


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