.In the sanctuary of the "sorceress," the poet Sarhan's feet caress "Doctor Football." | Dimalions
In the sanctuary of the "sorceress," the poet Sarhan's feet caress "Doctor Football."
about 4 hours ago
Sport
In the sanctuary of the "sorceress," the poet Sarhan's feet caress "Doctor Football."
Hesspress Sports·
The ball is a geometric term that is commonly used in its literal sense. We say snowball, iron ball, and the Earth ball, and each of these is filled with itself, so it is solid and has no hollow. However, if its structure is spherical and its meaning is air, it is called a "flick." The flick is to the ball what the circle is to the disk. Nevertheless, no one who revolves in the orbit of the game calls it a "flick of the foot."
As for where this common mistake came from, it is likely that it descended to the current ball from its ancient ancestors. In ancient times, humans played with dry fruits, bundles of straw, leather bags filled with whatever was available, and dom palm roots wrapped in rags, among other things that achieved the thrill of kicking. Yes, the thrill of kicking, which reached its peak with the stamping of feet on the certificates of victory, as victorious soldiers kicked the skulls of their enemies on their way to the arch of triumph.
Jumping to our current era, the ball has benefited from the emergence of synthetic leather and the discovery of reinforced rubber, so the manufacturing companies now produce refined editions of it, taking into account the observations of players and coaches, so the number of pieces that make it up has decreased until it has become what it is now. Every time I watch a football match, I rejoice at the announcement of a free kick, whether the player made a mistake or not. That powerful kick, to me, is something that the ball deserves as a reward for its relentless pursuit of that heinous linguistic error.
The foot is the most oppressed part of the body due to its lower position, so one does not realize its true value until it is wrapped in plaster or one finds themselves thrown onto a wheelchair. Only then does one notice that progress itself is derived specifically from the foot, not from any of its other prominent members, and that even the best of those who strive do so with a foot, not a hand or a liver.
In ancient times, the body owed its uprightness not only to the feet but also to running, climbing, and jumping... for these were not luxuries accompanied by applause and cheers, followed by the glory of crowning, but were necessities of existence just like water and air... There is no exaggeration in that, for running after prey was for securing sustenance, and running from predators was for escaping death, both of which were medals of that era, made of the very metal of life.
And even after it became light with socks and shoes, and its pursuits became varied, the foot still clings to the virtue of selflessness. Although it is to the rest of the body like the assisting action to other actions, if it is performed alone, it is indispensable, and if it is done, it cannot do without it, it places this merit behind that virtue.
In factories, workshops, and fields... the hand monopolizes all the appreciation, as if the foot does not frequent these places. There is always talk about the working hand in complete disregard for what its lower sister provides. We only need to look at the foot of the driver or the foot of the tailor or the foot of the potter to see the ingratitude with our own eyes.
As for in historical monuments and museums, where human genius is manifested retroactively, in every engraving or ornament or interlacing, in every painting or icon or statue, in every piece of that beauty, there is an invisible index finger pointing to the eyes of the successors about the creativity that belonged to the predecessors, while the feet stand before all this without any mention of pride or glory: there is no index finger for the foot.
No index finger for the foot, nor a middle finger. Therefore, the act of stepping, which is also derived from the foot, is often crowned with a victory announcement from its upper sister: the hand.
Far from the strongholds of seriousness and work, close to the playgrounds where sports —with its branches, events, competitions, and prizes— have become at the heart of contemporary life, the foot has gained an unprecedented status. Running, jumping, climbing, and other foot endeavors are no longer just excuses and reasons, as in the time of beasts and wildness, but have become sports with laws, referees, audiences, channels, platforms, and sponsors... So now the foot is an economy in itself, how could it not be when it is the cornerstone of major companies, specifically sports shoe companies.
As for in other sports, whether individual like tennis, or team sports like basketball, volleyball, or handball, the helping foot is too obvious to be pointed out, as it places —in these sports as in others— all its competencies at the service of the hand.
Despite its lower position in the body, its own game is the highest among all its peers; the highest in viewership, passion, and rewards... And with it, the foot has begun to perform actions unheard of by the ancients. It feints, disguises, passes, shoots, and scores... and earns the golden shoe. Thus, with this and much more, the foot has achieved the strangest comeback in history: for in football alone, the foot can now boast of the complete works of the hand.
Football was practiced at its inception wherever possible and with whatever was available and whoever was present, a group facing another group, a crowd opposing another crowd, or a few against a few, regardless of whether it was few or many. The number of players was part of the randomness of the game, which remained so until the nineteenth century.
As for how it settled on the number it plays with now, there are more than one story; two of them are closer, to some degree, to what the mind can accept.
The first says that game experts, after studying numerous matches with different numbers, concluded that the number twenty is what achieves the ideal spread on the field, as there is no overcrowding that hinders the smoothness of play, nor large gaps that cost players more than their breath. Their decision is correct, as the proportion of the number to the area is what governs play even in futsal, for example (with ten players on the field).
The second story says that football, in its modern cradle, England, was one of the parallel activities within barracks and universities, being strongholds for youth where energy overflows beyond necessity. Matches were held here and there between dormitories. Since each dormitory had eleven beds, the field had to conform to that number, which it still does to this day.
The second story has more supporting evidence, not only regarding the origin of the number but also in terms of the hybrid vocabulary that emerged from those matches and developed over time with the spread of the game. Terms like goalkeeper, defense, attack, ambush, skirmish, strategy, camp, friendly fire, projectile, and counterattack... all descended onto the field from the soldiers' dormitories, while terms like stand, president, university, committee, training centers, and veteran... descended from the students' dormitories. As for the captain, he belongs to both groups. Soldiers could have singled him out if they had called him a colonel, for there is no colonel in the university.
However, the role of students in regulating the game is too significant to be overlooked. It is to them, specifically to the students of Cambridge, that we owe the establishment of a written law for football, which was the foundation for most of its rules still in effect today.
Until the 1860s, the role of the coach in football had not yet emerged. The players were the masters of the game, weaving and stitching, and their training was limited to enhancing physical fitness and improving speed, and if there were any directives, they were the responsibility of the team captain.
George Ramsey was the first coach in the embryonic sense of the word, as he took charge at Aston Villa in 1874, teaching players some tactical phrases that combined the eloquence of dribbling with the smoothness of passing, blending what was prevalent at that time in England and Scotland.
A few years later, the English international Jack Hunter would join Blackburn as a player and a technical director in the sense known today. Among the requirements of this second role was to keep up with what was new in the world of the game in terms of rules and what that required in terms of plans to balance between attack and defense, good positioning, dealing with the offside trap, as well as reading the course of the match and making appropriate substitutions.
Over time, coaching became a specialized field in itself, combining academic training with field applications, culminating in diplomas of varying degrees... The coach became a team in himself, with an assistant, a physical trainer, a doctor, a nutrition expert, a goalkeeping coach, and a video analyst, and players became less free under his command, not only on the field due to their adherence to his instructions but also in their private lives; from meal times and sleeping hours to weight monitoring.
In every match, the coach plays at least one half, the second half, after having observed the strengths and weaknesses of his team as well as the opponent's, making substitutions in the lineup or adjustments to the strategy, which can be credited to him or against him, attributing victory to him or hanging defeat on him.
Most coaches were originally stars on the field, and their standing behind the touchline is merely a way to continue the brilliance on their behalf. I think of Zagallo, Ancelotti, Zidane, Enrique, Guardiola, and Simeone... As for Cruyff, he represents the greatest football break in history, for who else has transitioned the game from poetry as a player to philosophy as a coach?
However, it is not always the case. Maradona did not succeed as a coach in capturing his unique brilliance as a player, while Mourinho —who is little remembered as a football player— dazzled the eyes with his brilliance as a coach, thus transitioning from obscurity to immortality.
The contribution of coaches to the development of the game is too clear to be pointed out, and some clubs are only mentioned under a prominent title, which is their coach; Sir Ferguson is only mentioned with a bow of respect from Manchester United, Wenger is only mentioned with Arsenal standing in respect for the master, and Cruyff or Guardiola are only mentioned with Barcelona's dreams immersed in greenery.
The culture of coaches is not limited to familiarity with the affairs of the game, for each of them has their secret weapons that we only learn about after the fact. If one were to be mentioned in this regard, it would be the one used by Joachim Löw in the final match of the 2014 World Cup. Germany was tied with Argentina two minutes before the final whistle and the need for extra time when he brought in young Mario Götze after whispering in his ear: "Show the world that you are better than Messi and can decide the World Cup." A quarter of an hour was enough for this elixir to flow from the boy's ears to his veins and then to his muscles, and from there to the Argentine net, leading to winning the World Cup, the gold medal, and the Man of the Match award.
With the rise of football on the scoreboard of the stock market —the stock market of contemporary civilization— its coaches have risen to the ranks of the greats, with some earning, for coaching twenty-one players, more than an entire government earns for managing the affairs of millions of people, and some even earn monthly double what a Nobel Prize winner receives.
Morocco is experiencing an unprecedented football boom, and at its vibrant core is the national coach, thanks to whom Moroccans have played nine finals, winning seven of them in less than a year, an unprecedented achievement in both history and geography. By achieving self-sufficiency in coaches, Morocco has begun to invest surplus value in the vast land of God. Moroccans are also following coaches from their own kind leading foreign clubs and national teams, after having only followed their stars in others' leagues.
If I were to salute them all through one of them, I would find no better than coach Hussein Ammouta. On one hand, he is, to me, the Moroccan counterpart of the first technical director in the history of the game, Jack Hunter, for like him, he was an international and was both a player and a coach at the same time. On the other hand, in addition to his undeniable successes with clubs and national teams, the man satisfied my thirst by being crowned the best coach in Qatar, surpassing the so-called Gerets, whose salary in Morocco was one of the state's secrets, to the point that I thought he was the owner of the Guinness Book of World Records for salaries. On a third note, it is enough for him that he coached at Al-Sadd both Raúl González and Xavi Hernández, the legends of Real Madrid and Barcelona, a glory, I swear, that may not be repeated with other Moroccan coaches.