They did not vote for Vinicius to win the Ballon d’Or with a sufficient majority because in sport and in the world of entertainment there is a feeling that goes beyond what is done on the field of play. It’s called transmission. What you do and how you do it is projected outwards and can excite or outrage. We have witnessed for years the supersonic empathy generated by Nadal, which has served as an inspiration to many people. It is a type of empathy that, for now, the Brazilian does not even remotely generate.
Vinicius projects daring, exuberant and spectacular football, but he also emits something that the public picks up quickly: the inability to stay focused on what you are doing and an irritating lack of self-control. Vinicius shuts up the Osasuna crowd and cheers the Bernabéu stands when he manages to force a corner on a normal rebound. It’s not where it needs to be. It’s more outside than inside. That attitude can be seen from the last amphitheater and generates an obvious doubt: Does a guy who doesn’t control himself deserve to be named the best player in the world?
Vinicius projects daring, exuberant and spectacular football, but he also emits something that the public quickly picks up on: the inability to concentrate on what he is doing and an irritating lack of self-control.
The ridicule of Madrid and its journalistic servants has been historic. His reaction is a preschool tantrum. Incidentally, a Spanish player who has had great collective and individual merits has been ignored; not attending the gala by order of the president is also cause for reflection. Florentino Pérez does what he wants with his dolls. He bought the fans almost a quarter of a century ago and that pays off. If you sell yourself, they send you around and you are a servant. There is nothing worse than a satisfied slave. This is how autocracy works. I leave the definition here for you to compare: Form of government in which the will of a single person is the supreme law.
For years, Madrid and its journalistic servants have been operating with the repetition of slogans. It turns out that for some time they have been affirming like parrots that the best player in the world is Mbappé, as they already did with Cristiano Ronaldo as if he were repeating the catechism. They were Portuguese, they are Brazilian and they will be French. Whatever it takes. They do it shamelessly a few days before, presumably, they are going to give that title to another of their players. Who is the best then? Are they really happy repeating the slogan like cockatoos? Thank goodness it’s only football.
Four and a half kilometers in a straight line from the Bernabéu you reach the Prado Museum where you can see the famous Goya painting Saturn devouring his son. Madrid devours its children frequently and without regard. He ignores, sacrifices, ridicules and disinherits them. We will see if Vinicius manages to break the script written by the absolute authority on the field. in which he, like Snow White’s stepmother, is no longer the best in the world.