The goal is the orgasm of football. Like orgasm, the goal is becoming less frequent in modern life.
Half a century ago, it was rare for a game to end without goals: 0-0, two open mouths, two yawns. Now, the eleven players spend the whole game hanging on the crossbar, dedicated to avoiding goals and without time to make them.
The enthusiasm that is unleashed each time the white bullet shakes the network may seem mystery or madness, but we must bear in mind that the miracle is little. The goal, even a little gole, is always gooooooooooooooooooooooool in the throat of the radio reporters, a chest do capable of leaving Caruso mute forever, and the crowd raves and the stadium forgets that it is cement and falls off from the earth and goes to the air.
Football in sun and shadow