Smells like Sport Lisbon
I imagine the boredom, the anguish, the fear. Porto hanging between the ailments of Conceição, the juveniles “sold” by millions, the pouts of players who wanted to leave, and the umpteenth tactical bath of Jurgen Klopp on a tour of the Dragon.
Sporting lighting candles, sinking in assemblies, clinging to four-leaf clovers and sticking symbolic voodoo dolls of the 3-repeat-3 opponents goalkeepers in a row, in a row, in a row (Estoril, Marítimo and Arouca) who offered hard-fought victories. , pisss to leonines. On the other side, the best offense and the best defense. A free João Mário. A squad removed from some tumors (Tavares, undoubtedly Gabriel, perhaps Samaris?) Finally showing cohesion and commitment, even when there are mediocre periods of play. There was an urgent need to do something. A Fábio Veríssimo in the Light, a macumba in the moonlight, an umpteenth victory for the old game. So it was. 22 shots, 8 framed, and still not one in there. The rivals are breathing better, still looking up, and now come these epic clashes between Gestifute and Luxemburg and Qatar, to see if we recover Pot and find a therapist for Sergio. Everything is fine when it breaks down well.
But that audience to support it, those forty or so thousand thin throats, that applause after the end of the invincibility, can be worth more than a killer like Yaremchuk or a Rafa in devilish farewell year towards the best contract ever. We’ll see. There is something rotten in the kingdom(s) of Denmark(s). And new perfume in Luz. It smells good.
going up
Champions of the futsal world, where you need to be extremely technical and ultra fast. The opposite of Gilberto.
one down
To beat Barcelona and lose to Portimonense. Benfica’s anthem should be a fado, but it is.
* Benfica fan