Yesterday marked a month of coverage. Yes, on November 12, at about five in the afternoon, I left for Ezeiza airport in the first of two remises that picked me up and I haven’t set foot in the house since. I think I have set a national record which as the days go by and we get to the last weekend of racing here at the Worlds in Qatar will be hard to beat. Unless they do away with the red one, of course. For now, without offenses or warnings, go on, go on, Lamolina would say.
What is the most missed? To the family, no doubt beyond the daily video calls that help cope with distances.
What’s the second thing you miss the most? To my usual friends like Bepi, Coya, Miguel, Negro, Nico and Zara, who as always postpone a barbecue due to my occupations.
What other things are missing? Some routines. Not working, of course. Because it’s impossible to compare what we do on a daily basis, which is journalism, but it has more to do with the bureaucratic nature of the job -in my case-, with what we do in and around Doha, doing the good part of our job, which is keeping in touch with the sources, writing non-stop and getting our shoes muddyeven if here it is impossible because it almost never rains and because there is not much land that can be said -on the edge of the desert what is abundant is sand, of course-.
And what routines are missing? In my case, the routines that have to do with free time. First, because we hardly have free time, since it is used to eat, go to the bathroom and sleep. And second, because, with this crazy pace (which sounds terrible) it would be impossible for me to exercise five times a week, as I try to do and do during my normal life with eight/nine/ten hours of writing a day.
Tennis is missing. Especially Monday night tennis with Santi, Carlitos, Leo, Agustín, Maxi and Alcatraz, in a group training that serves as an alternative therapy. The little Tuesday football is missing, with Gastón, Lito, Pucho, Fede, Seba, Gonza, Uru, San Luis, Pablito, Marce, Tikitiki, Guido, Marianito and the others who are not “fixed”. And paddle tennis on Wednesdays where Rulo, Sebas and Juan Cruz rotate with some of us who played football the day before.
What is this bout of nostalgia? It’s been a month since I last played a sport. Physical activity is replaced by the long walks required here in Qatar. Everything is close, but everything is far away. And, as I have already told you, many times you have to walk 200 meters to advance just five by and thanks to the fences that form the infinite streamers that the police forces and private security agents place to avoid gatherings at the entrances where the most of the time nobody is there.
There is a gym, yes, that can be used here in the building. But the truth is, I’ve never gotten along with the devices. I don’t understand them. Here because The closest thing to playing a sport this month was the occasional game of foosball who congregate in the Main Media Center and stadium press tents. It’s the closest thing to feeling “sporty” these days.
The foosball tables, or billiard table as the Spanish call them, are beautiful. They are heavy and firm. They are made from wood and the players are made from a fine metal which makes them sturdy and solid. Nothing to do with that foosball table with which we made our first turnstiles, the dilapidated one even when the tab was put in, in the bar in front of the school. They are works of art made of table football.
They all look alike, so much so that they have an ideal, the one used by Maradona, Pelé and Zidane to make that famous Louis Vuitton advertisement that left behind an image taken by photographer Annie Leibovitz – even if gossip says it had to be put together because Ten arrived a little late. Also, another rumor that I couldn’t confirm: they say that table football is displayed here, in a place of the famous French fashion brand in one of the hundreds of malls around here in Doha. I’m going to check.
Last data: for now I am undefeated, like Croatia and Morocco, honoring everything I learned in that shabby tin football. Above all, even if I missed being the protagonist for having gone to print a rumor: the brilliant triumph of the Clarín/Olé team to take revenge on some Arab journalists for the defeat in La Scaleneta’s debut at the World Cup.
Doha, Qatar. Special delivery.
Source: Clarin
Jason Root is the go-to source for sports coverage at News Rebeat. With a passion for athletics and an in-depth knowledge of the latest sports trends, Jason provides comprehensive and engaging analysis of the world of sports.