We are accounting fans of the transfer market

We should dream and count.

Last night I heard that Inter should pay 6million to Bayern Munich to release goalkeeper Sommer, but given the “good relations” between the two clubs, Alfa could also get a discount. Too bad friends. A few years ago, good Massimone would have ended the discussion by emptying his purse and remarking in a Bauscian accent that his Bavarian friend could have kept the change. Beyond the nostalgia, the bitter and self-evident truth is that times have changed, but most importantly, we fans have changed.

The transfer market once raised hopes and dreamsHe flees dozing under an umbrella, newspaper in hand. Our fantasies of love went hand in hand with the negotiations: the enthusiasm for love blossoming in June, the disappointment at the betrayal in July, the fear of the conquests at the end of August, the promise to see each other again at the next summer solstice. Today we have lost that light-heartedness, the desire to live and take risks until we suffer, to indulge in childish utopias and build sandcastles destined to be overwhelmed by the first wave.

We have become cold, calculating and vulgarlike someone who always talks about money because he doesn’t have any.

With a falsely refined lexicon, a supercazzole conspiracy not to admit the technical and managerial crisis of our football before the economic one, they have corrupted our language and thus poisoned our minds. We talk too much about the difference in convenience between the obligation and the right to take back, bonuses, future resale percentages, etc You must “sell before you buy”. We lost the sense of summer and the transfer market. Escape from our daily problems, from expensive gas and energy, from mortgages and rents, from the inflation that eats up our paychecks. We no longer know how to get excited about a play and a smile; Even before we chase after a dream dragon of pleasure, let’s calculate how much it would cost to dress the 10 in our shirt and take the beauty to dinner.

There is no point in living outside the world, taking refuge in nostalgia and feeling sorry for the Renaissance prince president, but at least we claim the right to be splendid with other people’s wallets! Just as time dictates savings, spending reviews, and a tight belt, we react in the opposite direction. At the cost of appearing deluded and dissatisfied in September, we demand that the foreign fund go haywire and that the President (especially if he’s a foreigner) squander the family fortune for the selfish delight of our fans. The company does not have to invest, it has to spend, despite the hypocritical financial fair play. An invitation to financial fraud? No joke either, even if those who should be overseeing criminal and financial affairs allow the sharks to continue swimming in common waters (ask about Ferrero, Tacopina, and co.). We need to shed the heaviness of the auditor, shed the role of accountant, and rediscover the blissful ease of being a fan. On the other hand, it is said that dreaming costs nothing.

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