TDR Sports Corner: Messi’s Magical 2012

After a year 2012 filled with spectacular Messi moments, and a record-breaking 91 goals by the mercurial Argentine, The Doha Review reprints here an article published after witnessing one of those goals in the Vicente Calderon Stadium in Madrid last year. With the first La Liga match of 2013 just days away, more Messi magic awaits us all this year.

Leo’s Lover

Leo, lavish lover, light in my blindness; L. You call me B. I call you L.
They say I stick to you. To your feet; mainly to your left one. To your chest, on that memorable trip to Arabia. To your head, your hair, on that sensual other night in Rome. We meet in different locations, but the outcome is always the same.
We embrace.
Never do we merely stick.
How little they know.
La Masia's window to the world
All I know is that you always want to be with me. You never let me go. Except when you have to, when there is so much density, beauty, feeling in our perpetual embrace, that the only thing you can do is push me away for a while; only for me to return desperately to your feet, begging to be touched again in that way. The way in which no one else can ever touch me.
You never kick me. You stroke me. You caress my firm body. You propel me forwards. When you release me it is just to celebrate (life). But there is always the return to you.
Will it last forever? No, because nothing does. But while it lasts, it is the most eternal thing that there is.
Our passion makes men question their sexual preferences. Wives question husbands. Husbands question wives. Wives questions wives. And so forth. Everything becomes questionable. Limits are tossed aside. Arms fly skywards. Heads shake in awe. Not possible? You make it possible.
Leo, lover, L. You call me B. I call you L.

Messi with small boy at Aspire
There is no one like you. To me you are not the best. You are the only. Size matters not. In this it is not a matter of size. You are not the biggest. Others may be more beautiful. But others are not you.
Last night in Madrid you were wonderful; wondrous; mesmerizing; how little mere words seem in comparison to you. I am always looking up to you, blindly. Never do we speak. You who are not one of words anyhow.
There we were. Embracing in front of thousands of people. In private it is a pleasure, but with these masses of people chanting so passionately for us to be apart, there is something touching in the balmy night air. Ours becomes a forbidden love.
When you touched me there, for once, with your hand, it was punishable. They only want you to touch me with your feet. No matter, I prefer it that way.
Towards the end of our seeing each other, you lay me down. Then you touch me. Briefly. Delicately. Understandingly. Dashingly. And so rapidly. Is it legal?
From that angle, it is impossible for me to enter. Seemingly impossible. The watching journalist in the stands looks down for an instant, and when he looks up I am already inside. He’s missed the moment.
You are celebrating. The journalist thinks it must have been X who touched me. From that angle it must have been X, the other little genius at understanding me, whose right foot I enjoy so much.
But it was you.
You who have known me since you were so small. When I was not this perfect yet either. We who have only ever had each other. Seen each other mature. Will you ever get bored of me? As we grow older? You’d think so.
Yet you always need me. You come looking for me. Running to me. And then after we have played, you leave me there, wanting more. Only rarely do you take me home, whisking me past the flashing cameras and the waiting reporters.
If only not so many eyes were always placed on you.
Some fall in sight. Others in smell. Lacking these senses, I fell in touch.
They all want to keep us apart. You are always running away. From them. With me by your side. Ours is a romance on the run. We are constantly under pressure. Results. Trophies. Records. What do they all mean to me?
There is one question only on my mind; can there be another, whom you touch like this? I don’t think so. You were made just for me. And yet this weekend, you will not touch me. You will watch from the stands. Others will. You have been kept apart from me for a weekend. So I will be stroked by I, by X, by the new boy C.
But don’t let any of that fool you. I was made for you. One stitch at a time.
Will we survive without the other? No, that is a rhetorical question; a circle coming back upon itself. What I really want to know is this, even if I may sound a little obsessive as a result;
What will our baby look like?


New Year, New Writing Talent

2012 is here and I feel a continued passion for writing as I work on a new pair of exciting novels for publication this year.

In writing and teaching it daily to receptive and talented students, I enjoy showing what can be done by putting together simple and meaningful words.

They show what happens in life every day, recording our hopes as they are born, dreams as they are thought out, record injustices, social follies, capture happiness, little and big failures, and limitless triumphs.

The latter was undoubtedly the case last month when one of my students handed me the following delightful composition as part of our writing workshop.

Enjoy reading this piece by talented Portuguese writer Catarina Antunes, with all the dreamy fantasy and creativity of the last paragraph. To all of my students; keep writing and reading with delight and passion in the coming year!


by: Catarina Antunes

Some people would say that this is our year to make mistakes, other
people would say that this is the year to stop messing around and
recover our bad years. Some would say that this is a year to fall in
love or get married, on the other hand, others would say that this the
year to have a break in the love department and find out how different
our life on our own can be.

Well, how about this? I think it’s a year to live our lives like it
was the last one, to do things that we never expected to do, to fall
in love a hundred times, to lose our mind a thousand times, to screw
up everything a million times and maybe again… All you’re wishing
for, this year, is what you already wished for the last year, and the
one before… Stop thinking about what you’re going to do, what you’re
going to be, to find out, to dream about, to cry for, TO LIVE FOR.
Just enjoy your present more than the past and expect that your
future is going to be better, without making a list, without thinking
too hard when a shooting star comes around, without making a wish when
our watch reads 00:00, 11:11 or 22:22. Your life is only going to be
“well lived” when you stop thinking about how you can “live it well”.
Instead of beginning with the right foot, why shouldn’t we begin with
the left foot?

All I’m saying is be alive, feel alive. That will only happen when you
take a risk for something that is worth risking it for, for somebody. Be
curious, be strange, be funny, be stupid, be crazy, a liar, a stalker,
a know-it-all, stubborn, naive, cool, happy, in love, a joy kill, a
good student, an excelent son/daughter, friend, boyfriend, girlfriend,
best friend, be you, be yourself and don’t care about what other
people think.

You’re big, bigger and the biggest.

Give presents, buy a dog, break up, make up, make out, wear high
heels, stop wearing glasses, drink cold cofee, dance in the rain, ride
a horse, feed a lion, write your own thoughts so you can’t lose them,
think clear, drink beer to save water, buy a new computer when you
already got one, catch a butterfly, make money singing in the streets,
love someone, cry for someone, break someone’s heart, be someone’s
best friend, go to church, make prank calls, have a party at your new
place, help someone, save someone, quit your job, swim in cold water,
get undressed dancing, stare at the sunset, sleep in a boat, make
music, spend 200$ on candies, sing to someone in public, miss
university classes, travel around the world, touch an elephant, a
lion, a cheetah, a crocodile, win a medal, play tennis, meet new
people, paint your room, buy a house, smoke weed and get drunk. So
many things you’ve been missing while you were thinking about how to
have the time of your life, when you could have had it just a while

Just live the life you love and love the life you live.

That’s the rule.