Red Blackiland Sports and Off-topic Chronicles
'Too-candy' chocolate
Fans watching the exciting game against Tumbra
Author : Mathias Gërdorffen
When he stepped on the ball for the first time, he sent his mistress red roses. He was forgiven, but he had to promise to walk in the line.
The second time, he chose an array of gerberas.
It cost a note, but it was worth it: the case stayed in that situation, nor promises were done.
In the third, he attached a card with lame verses to the anemols he bought for the love of his life.
Tears fell from that naive face.
There was once again, only one.
He thought he was easy to get rid of it with a little bag of poor daisies.
He ended up having to comfort himself by unexpected goodbye chewing the too candy chocolates he had saved for such an eventuality.
Red Blackiland defeats Tumbra in a hard-fought match with a late goal in the extra time
Red Blackiland suffered to secure qualification for the quarterfinals of the Campionato Esportiva. After drawing a goalless draw with Tumbra's team in regular time, the team clinched the win at 13 minutes of the second leg of the overtime. Schwartz received the Carmona pass and scored the only goal of the match at Grepolnesia on Friday.
Red Blackiland has a tough mission to face homeowners Boring Paradise in an attempt to repeat the feat of the 17th Campionato Esportiva, based in the country of our previous opponent, Tumbra, where the team reached the semi-finals, Finished failing to reach the final but won the third place.
Tumbra started the game well positioned, mainly from the middle field back, which made it difficult for Red Blackiland to find spaces to attack. In the first half, the team of Tumbra nullified Carmona and Schwartz and created the best opportunity to open the scoring in Grepolnesia.
The first clear goal chance was in the 26th minute. Butler made a nice individual play near the bottom line and played back. Krajewski came kicking, but goalkeeper Hargreaves saved the Red Blackiland team. The reaction was swift. Two minutes after the scare, Eberhard cornered and Marckeiller tried to complete the header, but the ball went out.
After the first attacks, the team continued searching for spaces. E Tumbra had a great chance to get the lead before the break. After 36 minutes, the counterattack was impressive and filled the score to 3 - Butler passed on to Stevens, who advanced free and tried to cover up Hargreaves, but the kick came out too weak.
Tumbra came back from the dressing room, startling. With just four minutes on a free kick, Foster charged straight to the goal, Hargreaves curled up twice but managed to hold on to the ball. After the danger, Red Blackiland took the protagonism of the game and dominated the opposing area.
In 15 minutes, Bazsta made the cross and Ferreth hit a nice header, but Hughes managed to defend. Three minutes later, it was Carmona's turn to try. The player left two behind and tried to cross, but Brooks cut his head.
The pressure was from Red Blackiland. With 20 minutes, Carmona took advantage of the leftovers in the entrance of the area, killed in the chest and hit towards the goal, but the ball went over the crossbar. With greater possession of the ball and with the opponent retreated, the Argentine players continued trying the goal.
In the 30th minute, the Peter Valbuena team raised the crowd. Carmona took the leftovers in the entrance of the area, got rid of the mark and kicked low, but Hughes defended. On the left, Lotzunali played the ball and, in the suffocation, the defense managed to move aside. It was not enough to avoid overtime.
In the opening moments, Eberhard took a close corner and forced Hughes to score the ball to the bottom line. It was the main chance of the first 15 minutes. Due to the fatigue of the match, the teams slow down the game, started to miss many passes and goal got more and more distant.
In the second half, the match was very disputed in the midfield. However, Red Blackiland had yet another good opportunity. Shacker risked the entrance of the area and Hughes jumped in the left corner to avoid the goal. In the 13th minute, the national team of Red Blackiland did not waste more chances. Tumbra lost the ball in the midfield, Carmona seized the error, rose to the attack and passed to Schwartz. The talented player tied it all up in the bottom of the net to qualify his team. At the last minute, Tumbra could have drawn. Butler crossed to Ganson, free, nodding on the beam with Hargreaves. On the rebound, Ganson still had another chance, but the ball went through the bottom line. After the last attack, Red Blackiland celebrated the result.
A Football Story: Old Times...
Just recently, I had a small and inevitable melancholy that all orphans feel, regardless of age. Eleven o'clock on Sunday morning. I thought of my father, who was definitely dead ten years ago, and when I was a boy full of dreams and future in 1979, at the age of nine.
My kid's supper Sunday was to get up early, to listen to the program on the radio, to wait for eleven in the morning so that the TV broadcast some game of a regional championship or a lower division. At halftime, we usually had lasagna, roast chicken or beef. After the game was over, the program was a sporting debate, presented by the charismatic journalist, with representatives of the fans of the clubs discussing football.
At the end of the program, we went down to the bus stop on the street. The white bus was coming, with a gray strip and the other green. Then we made the most charming route of collective transportation of the city and soon there was already the scenery of dreams, hundreds of people walking towards the stadium.
We quickly bought our tickets, when there was some left, my father bought others to give the poor boys who were near the ticket office asking. I saw several of them cry over it. We passed the tight roulette wheel, and soon the ramp of the stadium unfurled the spectacle, the shirts of the organized cheerleaders, on display for sale, fastened on the supporting columns.
Two to three in the afternoon, lots of people in many games and the preliminary of juveniles, later called juniors. The great stars of the future were on the stadium lawn. I looked at everything: the game, the field, the bleachers, the banners, the songs. It was a multisensory experience. When a huge cloud of the heavens appeared hugging us, when our team came on the field, I already knew that a great game was triggered to take off. I was so enchanted by all that invested a good part of my allowances, coins and congeners seeing matches and matches, the team of my heart and the others.
We do not always win. Losing was part of the game. But it was too good to see the game in the stadium back then. People came from everywhere, people fraternized, I did not see battles of hatred. Of course there were problems, but the balance was highly positive. And so it was for years and years, for more than thirty of them, until the day when in the name of modernity, it was decided that the stadium would be put down, maintaining its facade. And the goals on the TV program at the end of the day? And the post-game review?
The time has passed. The fans were knocked off the television screen. The preliminaries ended up preserving the lawn, read hide the younger stars and facilitate transactions. The radio lost its strength. My father said goodbye forever. Lasagna with family, never again. Neither the bus, which later took other colors and is now city hall color, with shortened path.
Four in the afternoon, I change the soccer channels on the remote control. There are many options, none of them endowed with full quality. The stadium died: it became a soulless drudgery. It's closed today.
Now there are only one cheer, twenty thousand fans instead of five times more. The stadiums are beautiful, comfortable, aseptic, differentiated. On television, they were all the same. It is difficult to distinguish one from the other. All they lack is the soul, the charm, the charm. The narrator has just said that football is a spectacle for the family. Okay, but would not it be better for the supporter?
My team is an arsenal of lies and false promises. I still love him, I'm very fond of him and I hope he'll win tomorrow. Where did my Sunday end?
I have a hunch: when corporate greed swallowed football.
