Gastarbeiter
Everyone who knows me knows that I do not like football, rather, I
dislike the exhibitionist footballers; those who roll up their clothes to show
their muscles when they score a goal, even if it's a rebound. And some
cocksucking coaches who go to the lawn wearing expensive tailored suits are pathetic.
But - making an exception - I cannot remain mute when reading an article
published in The Guardian (Monday 23 Jul
2018) written by Richard Williams about the decision of the player Mesut
Özil not to play anymore with the shirt of the German national team because he
feels disrespected, vilified.
According to Mr. Williams, the matter comes from afar, when the current
Arsenal player greeted and photographed himself with Erdogan when he visited
London last May.
As is well known, the President of Turkey is recognized for improper
activities of a democratic country (detention of journalists, imprisonment of
dissidents ...), so a smiling photograph with him can cost the demerit of the
brave who dares.
For me, Turkey is a fascinating country that I have not yet been able to
go to, but for which, since my adolescence, I have been very admired and
curious because it represents the meeting point of many and varied cultures.
Unfortunately, the current government is determined to retreat in terms of
rights and freedoms achieved.
In Ötzil's defense it should be remembered that his family is of Turkish
origin and that it was a gesture - at least inhumane - to greet the head of the
land where the player has his roots, but the bad game presented by Germany in
the last World Cup out of the worst of the heads of the fools that are guided
by fashions and pseudo-sports currents.
Poor Mesut made the mistake of giving a shirt to the powerful Erdogan
and not being able to score the necessary goals to place the German team in the
final and thus win the world cup. As Mr Williams writes very well, in a
polarized world like the one we live in, you can pass, overnight, from hero to
villain, from a free citizen to a fucking gastarbeiter.
From my Borstal.
LDR
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