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And about Trump’s dystopia, what? Until recently, journalists with ambition for employees of the month used to ask their interviewees, who will now have to ask about Ancelotti’s dystopia.
What is a dystopia? It happens to me like St. Augustine over time: if you ask me, I don’t know. On my first day as an intern, I heard the oldest of the Newsroom raging in a corridor: “The problem with this newspaper is entropy.” Well, dystopia, like entropy first and then resilience, is another milestone in magical language. Something like the drums of Sir Alfred J. Ayer, head of logical positivism and crazy fan of Tottenham Hotspur:
“Suppose, Father,” says the philosopher Ayer to Father Copleston in a debate on logic at the BBC, “I say ‘There’s a drgulus there’, and you say ‘What?’, And I reply ‘Drógulus,’ and you ask What is a drogulus? Well, I say, I cannot describe what a drogulus is because it is not the kind of thing that you can see or touch, it is a disembodied being. It is there. There is a drgulus right behind you, spiritually behind you. Does that make sense?
It is the only kind of explanation that Ancelotti can give JAS, his ‘content producer’, about the dystopia that is ‘the Bale-Benzema-Hazard trident’, older than a flock of parrots. We all know that Florentino Pérez will want to inaugurate his Guggenheim floperino with Mbappé, the utopia, but at the moment we only have the dystopian trident Bale-Benzema-Hazard, of which the highest scorer, according to statistics, is Bale.
Ancelotti is not modest (modest, Corrochano said here, he is the one who cannot be anything else), and he presumes that, when he arrived at Madrid (on the third call!), «I managed to integrate the highly sought-after Gareth Bale into a role that complemented Cristiano Ronaldo ». With the help, yes, of Paul Clement, “essential in helping Bale, with the language and culture, to integrate into the club.” Later, we suppose, Bale discovered golf … and Peru was screwed! Well, let’s see now, without Ramos, who has English in that locker room to beat up the Welshman, on whose happiness white goals depend, between Benzema, who is to go down to receive, and Hazard, whose role is to go up to fire.
Behind, and as food for such a dystopia, Isco and Odegaard.
“I don’t care if he comes or not, because he’s not going to play for me now,” Ancelotti said of Odegaard’s signing. They sign him for the future, for the managers who will come after me. What he didn’t know was that he would be the manager. Dystopia feeds on leather, and for leather, Odegaard or Isco?
Isco is back “sweet”, that Ancelotti knows better than anyone, who happens to be a magnificent cook, how well the Iscos, the Marcelo and the Hazards will have smelled each other, all having a good time, and may God preserve them appetite. To keep an eye on the desserts, Ancelotti has Pintus, who decides how many laps to the field a plate of custard entails. What we do not know is whether the footballer who, according to Ancelotti, left the field one day and retired to the locker room without his permission, will remain in the squad. The complaint he had was that another player did not try hard enough in the session, and with that attitude he cheated his teammates. The player accused of lack of effort was one who demanded to be valued as a Cristiano, and Ancelotti showed him the solution: score sixty goals per season over several years.
–In Madrid there is a strange organization –noted in his memoirs Ancelotti, who is in favor of psychology: a Pintus of the soul!
Ancelotti had that Pintus at Chelsea and Milan, but not at Real, whose dressing room he resisted. After all, Benito Floro passed through that dressing room, who brought his Lamparero. Diogenes’s Lamp to illuminate Ancelotti’s dystopia! Floro’s psychologist came to relax the players, and Butragueño ended up doing yoga with Ramiro Calle, without ever being heard a word louder than another. When Arsenio Iglesias, the Brujo de Arteijo, entered that locker room, the players asked him on their knees to give them everything, except talks.
But Ancelotti’s obsession seems to be another: firing. He believes that psychology can help keep him on the path to victory … “and on the job.”
The kinesiologist
Hazard’s future, financially splendid, depends footballingly on the kinesiologist, someone who studies body movements on the field like a stingy bank movements on the account. In Ancelotti’s trident, the one most in need of psychological massage will be Benzemá, forced to live pending a thread that yellow journalism has stretched between Bale’s hernia, which later remained on a golf club, and Hazard’s ankle, that maybe later it will be left on a gymnastic table in poor condition. If Ancelotti brought Isco because he seemed to him “a tenacious worker,” he can also “bring” Hazard to us, turning him into an artistic gypsy.
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