At the Rockhal

Yesterday Duran Duran's concert was actually good. It was so cool to see Simon Le Bon and the Taylors so close coming from Jane's posters and pictures almost twenty years ago. And it was thanks to those Music-Trip-day casettes that I knew most of the songs they played. Apart from Simon, who has grown a considerable beer belly and some extra wrinkles, they all look exactly as they did way back in their heydays. Especially John Taylor. And they had a pretty good live show. Who could have ever told me that I would one day watch Duran Duran live, now that most of my colleagues' reactions were: 'Oh are they still around'?

Il Metronomo

He might not be Franco Baresi or Paolo Maldini, but we're not too far. The tenacity and vision of Demetrio Albertini was also an integral part of the massive achievements of Milan's 'imbattibili' in the early nineties. He's been through it all under Don Fabio, to reach the peak with the scudetto-champions cup double after that magnificent final in Athens against Cruyff's Barcelona in 1994. That particular fixture had a clear favourite, the Catalans, who fielded the likes of Romario and Stoitchkov and who were coming from 4 consecutive league titles in Spain.

He was always at the centre of it all, pun included. That's why they called him
Il Metronomo, he undoubtedly managed the pace of the whole team. And after such a glorious career, he left (temporarily, as we all hope) the world of football without much fanfare. As was his style after all. Far from the media limelight, where possibble. The few personal moments of glory where the (not-so-rare) goals from direct freekicks. As was the case in a Coppa Italia final when he opened the score at the Stadio Olimipico in Rome, to see all the hopes of winning the often-snobbed trophy ruined as the team was outplayed by a couple of Lazio reserves.

In the end, the milan-born midfielder might have been the scapegoat for a couple of anonymous seasons in the late nineties. Recently he has tried his luck elsewhere at Atletico Madrid (where tha highest point was scoring yet another freekick in a derby against Real, clinching a draw in the 96th minute), then Lazio, Atalanta and finally Barcelona. But his home was Milan.

Until we see him again as Mister Albertini...

Latest football trip: Frankfurt

Here we were again...the usual three, with a random addition, all set for another football day. This time east, longer, colder, more stressful.

First things first. My friends pick me up. It's my role to plan the journey. First mishap. No GPS. Fine. Coming from an island where your longest drive if you're unlucky to find traffic cannot take more than an hour, we panic. The driver (whose notion of reality is at times rather blurred, to say the least) suggests driving ahead and following signs (where any) - actually we expected to find FRANKFURT on the first sign we find round the corner. I suggest buying a map (can't we get back to basics?). The wisest opinion comes (surprise surprise) from the only woman in the car. Let's borrow another GPS.

Fine, so here we go. Three and a half hours of snow, rain and Eldoradio. The awe of the stadium can be felt as soon as you get a glimpse from the motorway. Newly built for next year's World Cup, the Commerzbank Arena is beautiful both from the outside and the inside. The bar a bit less...a coffee can cost you up to 10 euros thanks to their 'clever' system of paying for your ritual snack.

The match (oh, by the way our aim was to watch a Bundesliga match) is between Eintracht Frankfurt and Stuttgart. The previously rather glorious home club which recently had its reputation tarnished with a corruption scandal as a result of which it had been relegated to the 3rd division is currently trying to get back to the glory days and climb up to the levels that matter. Trapattoni's side, on the other hand, is fighting off the dangerous 'draw syndrome' (Inter fans would know very well how chronic this can prove to be!! - couldn't resist). They drew their last 8 out of 11 matches, and they are currently anchored in mid-table, 18 points after leaders Bayern.

The outcome? A draw of course. 1-1. At least we enjoyed the opening goal by the home team. It's so cool to have 44000 Germans shouting 'Eintracht ein, Stuttgart NULL' with their soft spoken tendency which only their very melodious language allows. One tiny detail: for two hours it felt as if only my torso was still alive. The cold was unbearable unless you were a...real fan.

The stadium facilities are state of the art...light years away from the concrete old structures you find in Italy. There are still works going on of course, especially on the outside. The match as a means of entertainment is much more attractive to the fans. To the encounter itself: pretty good. You can recognise a Trapattoni side as easy as ABC. Very pragmatic, everyone strictly keeping his position and with an inevitable gap between a well packed midfield and the two strikers. Up there, Tomasson is still as ineffective as he was at Milan, while Ljuboja is a very interesting player, very fast and dynamic. The opponents on the contrary were adventurous, constantly creating space, especially on the flanks, and fast in their creative part.

Anyway. Mission accomplished. Now we've been to a Bundesliga match as well. The trip back was even more stressful. Looking back? Worthwhile. As always.

Tribute to the Best

It cannot really be hailed as a literary masterpiece. But one of the autobiographies I enjoyed most was certainly George Best's. His life had enough to fill way more volumes than his own 'Blessed'. These days a lot will be written on one of the most talented and contrasting figures of the game. I will not even attempt to go through the cliche' of his ups and downs and his career highlights and misfortunes.

Yet, after reading his book - after all had felt that due to my young age I did not know much about this much loved character - I kept following Best's random appearances in the media, which unfortunately were almost always related to his eternal enemy, his alcoholic self.

This is why I'd like to remember him like this, the 1968 European champion and Golden Ball winner: the fifth beatle, the first football icon, the flair player who took the mickey out of the opposing defenders, the kid from Northern Ireland who would never have the chance to play in a world cup, who could confuse even Matt Busby, the lover of women....and uncluckily his own destruction.

Lite

Just in case you didn't notice (actually I haven't done much yet to help you), the lite part in futbolite is a way for me to dare and wander in anything other than football. Because, yes, unlike what some people might think I do breathe, eat, drink and s*** without football on my mind.

I had Mark's same dilemma on Thursday watching prime time television. Admitting that normally my linguistic competences limit my choice, this time I could actually zap between intelligible-sounding channels, namely Rockpolitik on Italian (state) tv, the MTV EMAs and various football matches (in German or French, but thank God watching football does not trouble much the left cerebral hemisphere)...you see I'm at it again! What promised to be a spoilt-for-choice situation could almost degenerate into a prize for the most pathetic tv entertainment, which nowadays seems to be the order of the day.

Presuming I could bear only the music on Celentano's show, including the fabulous Crozza and Cornacchione, I was rather looking forward for a couple of performances at the EMAs. Madonna is always fascinating. At 47 her live act is still powerful and spectacular. She's always had producers who allow her to 'make all the others look like a bunch of amateurs', in Mr Robbie Williams' words. The latter was also fun as he's always somewhat unpredictable (actually I'd like to go to one of his concerts). Coldplay are good and their sound is rather complete notwithstanding being snubbed by some (yes, please do have a look at the link). But that deserves another blog.

What bugs me most is the dismal and horrid multinational that MTV has become (for quite a number of years now), where music has long been relegated in terms of the station's sell-to-teenagers target. Of course you have to take such awards with a pinch of salt. It takes just a look at the various categories of nominees to figure out that what mattered most were the 13 million teenagers who 'voted' and the coverage the commercial partners (even bigger than MTV) get. The legendary Black Eyed Peas together with U2, Coldplay and The Gorillaz for 'best group' says it all (oh, so Black Eyed Peas are actually a group! hmmm).

Anyway, I ended up missing on some (and they were indeed a few) good parts of Rockpolitik, missing half of Coldplay's performance and not knowing any of the Uefa cup matches results...;)