In the Ceramic Stadium they must have smelled the flower on the ass of Xavi, because when they showed the Barça line-up in the light they showed us Ronald Koeman as a coach. Maybe it was a mistake or maybe it was a spell, to drive away what has already become a cliché. The truth is Xavi seems to have it (a real florist, as noted by the friend and colleague on these pages Xavier Carmaniu), not like the Dutchman, who paid homage to a Catalan proverb, not too well known, which reads: “Some are born with the flower in the ass and others with a horn”.
Koeman he had a horn in that place and Barça, little by little, was entering the path of those who go with the lily in hand, giving occasions everywhere he passed, something that in Ceramics, to be honest, still remained in force . That they score you a goal from an opponent’s throw-in is a mistake. That they put it on you when you got out of the band is a monumental nonsense, as happened with the Villareal draw that foreshadowed another unfortunate night.
It is not documented, but the thing about the flower on the ass I suppose has to do with the confrontation that is established between that part of the body, which generates shit, and the soft perfume that the flower emits, well, in general. The disproportion is evident and also the singularity, because most of us shit around, without flower and without perfume. Luck, then, is reserved for a few, as the Romans already warned us: “Omnia prospere alicuievenire & rdquor ;. Successes exist, but they are for few.
Piqué’s harangue
Faced with the floral avalanche, the first obligation of those who are born standing or with a good star or with the happy flower, is to warn, with a mischievous smile, that this is not true, because having the flower implies the gift of divine grace by birth and not because of the effort accumulated with determination. And the second obligation is to warn that “a flower does not fa estiu; ni dues, primaveres & rdquor ;. That is, it will not always be there. Therefore, Xavi, coined the expression “worked flower & rdquor; to refer to “assistance & rdquor; from Ter Stegen in the goal of Memphis. It was all planned, which is a classy and kind of amazing way to shake the flower off.
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Speaking of Memphis, I am still fascinated and frightened by the way he celebrates the triumphs, with a melancholic air and with a barely outlined smile. He is absent, as if hiding a hidden secret. It looks like the lost look of Unai emery, which is as if that 6-1 at Camp Nou still reverberated in his head when he lived in Paris.
We will have floral conversations these days. But stay with the celebration of the second goal and the harangue of Pique. I was more concerned with watering the plant (read: “let’s not fool around now, my friends & rdquor;) than celebrating the bouquet. Pique he was, in the old Madrigal, the faithful gardener.
Reference-www.elperiodico.com