On the importance of discipline and practice. Our Fall soccer game

A couple of times a year, I write about soccer. This coincides with my school team’s games. This year, our game in Miami was cancelled due to lightning, and the Palm Beach Young Adult tournament was also cancelled due to scheduling issues. Fortunately, we finally had a chance to play against a local group, the Amori Christi campus of the Jesus Youth.

After twenty years of coaching, I mostly value two things in soccer nowadays: the discipline you bring to practice and the player’s psychology. Today, let’s focus on discipline.

We have all seen great players who have wasted their careers to partying. While we do not play in any competitive conference, you can still see the players who commit to improving and those who just want to have fun.

At the end of the day, discipline in whatever you decide to do in life will set you free from the slavery of your worst self, the “I don’t feel like studying/practicing/showering/etc, worst self. So start slow, but be mindful and purposeful to develop routines that will improve your soccer game or whatever craft you wish to improve at. You are welcome

The takeaway for me this year is the importance of staying focused, of constant practice, to prepare for a game, the game, every game, is important. The men did not disappoint, earning a resounding win (8-2), but the score is not important; the preparation, the mindset, and showing up are what I appreciate.

Rembrandt and the Dutch Masters at the Norton Museum

Years ago, I heard that the three most influential artists in history were Velázquez, Goya, and Rembrandt. I am not an artist, so I cannot opine, but it does make a lot of sense. Velázquez and Goya —I am fairly familiar with them, since I spend a lot of time at the Prado Museum (which only has one Rembrandt). Rembrandt and the Dutch Masters are fascinating, but I am less familiar (although I did spend time at the Rijksmuseum back in the Mesozoic era).

The Norton Museum has just opened a phenomenal exhibit on Rembrandt and the Dutch Masters from the largest private collection, The Leiden, and I have already seen it twice and hope to see it a few more times. I have already scheduled a visit for one of my classes!

The exhibit is phenomenal; it includes many Rembrandts, various other Dutch Masters, and, as a bonus, a Vermeer!

The works are mostly from the 17th century, although there are a handful from the 18th. So, Dutch Baroque, which is a bit different from the rest of European Baroque, especially Italian and Spanish, but still plays with the chiaroscuro. Jesus at the Mount of Olives is a great example of that technique.

Yes, the Vermeer is my favorite; it is just a girl, a piano, and a chair, but it does so much more than any of the other paintings. It is tiny, but the girl’s gaze, her hair with its almost transparent bow, her dress, two tiny pearls on her neck, the trademark light pouring from a high window. I have written before about the victory of minimalism, but this might take the cake!

So if you are in South Florida before March 29, reserve your ticket and see this exhibition. You are welcome.

Teaching Hack #429: Get a guest speaker to present in your class.

Whenever possible, if you find the right person at the right time, get a guest speaker.

Bishop Silvio Báez @silviojosebaez of Managua is a Carmelite who just happens to work at my school. After much discussion and persuasion, I finally convinced him to attend my Spanish Art and Literature class to talk about St. John of the Cross. We arranged, organized, and scheduled, and he exceeded expectations. Bishop Báez brought his old St. John book, tattered and torn, from when he was a seminarian!

We only had time to explore the first 5 stanzas of the Spiritual Canticle, and he showed us how the writing leads directly to spirituality. Of course, St. John is the master of lyric poetry, and Bishop Baez knew exactly how to tease out St. John’s technique, method, and tricks to transport the reader to a deep spiritual realm. Bravo!

Of course, for the students, it is a new, different voice —an authority on the subject— presenting new material.

Over the years, I have managed to get the Spanish Consul in Boston and his Education Attaché to come chat. Poet Daniel Bosch explained how the very structure of Pablo Neruda’s Veinte Poemas de Amor is in itself a poem. At UNC, I met the owner of a local restaurant who spoke excellent Spanish, so I invited her to my Spanish for Business class.

On the other hand, if you can talk about a subject with some authority, then it is only fair for you to give back by being a guest speaker. I have been a guest speaker a couple of times: once on bullfighting, a couple of times on entrepreneurship, and a couple of times on public speaking.

So if the stars align and you can pull it off, get a guest speaker; your students will appreciate it.

The amazing pianist I did not know: Vladimir Ashkenazy – With free giveaway!

Ashkenazy 46 cd (plus book and 2 dvds) boxed set

Although classical music might be showing signs of an increase in popularity, the overall trend seems to be decreasing. This brings me to today’s paradox: Due to social media, “rock star” classical musicians are more popular than their counterparts of decades ago (with obvious exceptions: Callas, Pavarotti, Segovia, et al.). Nowadays, Joshua Bell, Gustavo Dudamel (dude had a TV series, Mozart in the Jungle, based on him!), Lang Lang, Yo-Yo Ma, etc. (they each have around a million followers on Instagram!)

So the question would be: in equal circumstances (ceteris paribus) and access to YouTube, TikTok, Netflix, etc., how would a ranking of classical musicians look? And how would modern musicians stack up against pre-social media ones?

All this, because maybe (probably) I am an ignoramus and did not know Russian turned Icelandic pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy until recently. A dear colleague who just retired is a classical music connoisseur. He is also terribly generous and constantly regaled me with CDs that he was cleaning out.

One such gift was the boxed set (with book and DVDs) of Ashkenazy’s collected piano recordings. Obviously, it is not all the works ever written for piano, but it is 46 CDs including:

Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky, Bach, Brahms, Mozart, Schumann, Prokofiev, Beethoven, Scriabin, Previn, Chopin, Bartók, Glazunov, Franck

A couple of the works are repeated, albeit at different stages of Ashkenazy’s life, so if you have a fine ear, you can evaluate his evolution.

Listening to this whole body of work has taken me about 2 years, since I only have a CD player in my (old) car (see about minimalism here). And I replayed every CD multiple times!

This was a beautiful journey for me, learning about the magic of the piano, how different composers worked with the piano, etc. My favorite? The usual suspects: Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Brahms… My least favorite: Previn.

So now that I have enjoyed listening to this phenomenal collection, it is time for me to give it away. If you live in South Florida and you want to pick it up, we can arrange it. If you pay the shipping costs, I will be happy to ship it wherever you want me to. First-come first-served. This is very rare and is not available easily.

Celebrating 10 years of Yoga

As any normal person who has gone to the gym with certain regularity knows, it is mind-numbingly boring. I had heard all the wonderful benefits of Yoga, so about ten years ago, when somebody offered me a Yoga class at the gym in Chapel Hill, I signed up.

I liked it, I liked it enough to return and make it part of my routine, which also meant not doing the same boring workouts. I moved to Florida and continued going to Yoga at my local gym, and so on. Back in Spain, I dropped it; there seemed to be a disconnect between the mentality of Yoga and Spain’s well-established Scholastic tradition. I tried a few venues, but was not convinced

When I returned Stateside, after a bad experience at a local studio, I eventually found Paritosh at Casa Manabilss. What I realized was akin to thinking that for years I had been going to Taco Bell, thinking I was eating Mexican food, and then trying Mexican food in Mexico! My life was changed; I had now entered into real Yoga. Paritosh patiently explains not only the asanas, but they why, the philosophy, the history, the spirituality, the whole package!

On top of that, Paritosh is hilarious! Yes, I know all the jokes and when they are going to drop, but that is part of what makes the class fun.

Originally, the class was labeled Yin Yoga, a type of Yoga that works the fascia of the muscles by holding the asanas longer. Now it is Raja (Royal) Yoga, which gives Paritosh more room to do more encompassing exercises: meditations, breathing exercises, Yoga Nidra, etc. It is a very enriching class, as you never know exactly what the components are going to be, but they are always amazing.

Also, Casa Manabliss has a new home in what used to be the function room of a restaurant! They have done a great job preparing it and keeping the disco ball! It is a great new venue!

Sándor Marai, the best author you have never heard of —existentialism from another angle. (Warning: spoilers)

Sandor Marai – El matarife

Last Summer, when I returned from Budapest, gushing with excitement from my visit, my sister gifted me Sandor Márai’s first novel, El matarife (The Slaughterer, The Butcher). I had never heard of him, but I was quickly absorbed by the Joseph Roth-like, turn of the (20th) Century style, which I love, and you can read about here.

Most protagonists in Existentialist literature have either lofty or uncertain, questionable motives. Yes, they might be murderers, think of Raskolnikov or Meursault, but either they try to justify their motives or, following Existential absurdity, they simply do not care. Other, more lofty existentialists, such as Don Quixote or Unamuno’s San Manuel Bueno, are not afraid to stand up for their beliefs.

In El Matarife (A mészáros in Hungarian) (1924) —which has yet to be translated into English! Marai creates a different narrative. Otto, who, as the title implies, will become a slaughterer, a butcher, enjoys killing, firstly cattle in Berlin’s market, then enemy soldiers and civilians during WWI. And eventually, as expected, he becomes a serial killer, who then kills himself.

The beauty of this book lies in Marai’s buildup of the narrative. We know Otto is a little different when, as a child, he enjoys seeing an ox get slaughtered. I remember being traumatized as a child seeing my neighbor’s pigs slaughtered, and that was a festive, community event! We also notice Otto is a detached fellow, no real friends, no girlfriend, no wife. Otto seems conscious of his behavior, which even earns him an Iron Cross from the Emperor himself!

Enough spoilers, if you can get your hands on some Marai, it will not disappoint. You are welcome.

Embers, originally published in 1942, was eventually published in English in 2001. It did garner critical acclaim, and I have it on the reading list.

Anton Raphael Mengs at the Prado Museum (hurry, until March 1, 2026)

Yes, I might have a mildly obsessive personality. One such obsession is the 18th Century, I rather flourish with everything to do Enlightenment, Neoclassical, late Baroque, early Romantic, you get my drift.

When I found out there was a Mengs exhibit at the Prado, I did not go once; I went twice (and I might go again) —Advantage of being an “Amigo del Prado,” I get in for free 😊

Mengs is the consummate 18th-century, Enlightenment painter. Although he worked for a lot of European nobility, most of his work was for King Carlos III in Madrid; in fact, most of Mengs’ work I have seen was at the Palacio Real in Madrid.

My main scholarly project at the moment (sorry, I cannot disclose too many details) involves a Francisco de Isla book that was in the library of the Spanish-Italian Cardinal Zelada. What was my surprise when reading the description of a portrait at the exhibit, that it was Cardenal Zelada, which normally lives at the Art Institute of Chicago, what a coincidence! (Check it out here).

The exhibit is phenomenally curated; it has hundreds of paintings gathered from around the world, divided into 10 huge areas grouping different stages and themes. It is worth the visit.

So if you are in Madrid before March 1st, 2026, go to the Prado and check out the Mengs exhibition. You are welcome.

María Callas, and why I dislike Netflix movies.

I might be slightly obsessed with Callas…

While I do not consider myself an opera connoisseur, I do love opera.

My love of opera started in high school when I listened to Kiri Te Kanawa sing the famous Madame Butterfly aria Un bel di vedremo, on one of my father’s cassette tapes!

Since then, I have listened to a lot of operas on records and on the stage.

Maria Callas stands out as THE diva, the voice. Yes, other voices are gorgeous, but the Callas is recognizable a mile away, and yes, you could probably hear it a mile away.

I recently saw Netflix’s biopic with Angelina Jolie about Callas’ final days, which prompted me to write this blog post.

The Netflix formula is, in my opinion, boring. Notice how they use all the resources. With all the money they have, they perfectly curate every film, produce the perfect color saturation, or switch to Black and White for certain scenes, all of which makes for boring films. So no, I am not a fan of Netflix films, and while Angelina Jolie and the rest of the cast do an outstanding job, everything else about the film is predictable, thus boring.

But go out and enjoy The Callas’ amazing voice and music. You are welcome.

Find your blessings and then leverage them!

Yes, I live in a sort of self-imposed exile. No, I do not live in political exile like some of my friends. I do not live in economic or some other sort of exile; mine is occupational. I cannot do the work I do here at home. On top of that, it is no secret that for me, South Florida has very few redeeming qualities. So I could live a bitter and resentful life. However, I try to find the positive and leverage it.

One of the many blessings I enjoy every day is walking from my office, across campus to the refectory, where I make myself a coffee with steamed milk in a professional espresso machine (and grab a cookie to dunk). We have a 73-acre campus which used to be an emergency landing strip for WWII pilots learning to fly out of what is now Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton.

About in the middle of our campus is a lake with a fountain, plenty of fish, and a wonderful path around it! So every morning I walk along the lake, and it is beautiful! Every day is different, cloudy, bright, rainy (this is Florida after all). There are all sorts of wildlife: birds, squirrels, and, if you are lucky, turtles!!

That walk is my first meditation of the day; it is a walk of thanksgiving, of gratitude, of joy, it is splendid!

So, while I could be doing that walk moaning and complaining that I am not home, I choose to enjoy that walk and thank God. I invite you to find your blessings and leverage them. You are welcome.

Lake collage

Vangelis – El Greco, and get ready to travel in time and space!

Yes, I enjoy listening to music beyond classical. I have written here about Gospel music and jazz, even pop. Every summer, I create a playlist of pop hits for my nephew and nieces, and I used to record a Jazz playlist for my dad every Christmas.

Occasionally, rarely, I will also listen to contemporary composers like Arvo Pärt. Thrifting the other day —one of my hobbies in this desolate suburbia— I found this CD by Vangelis. I had to give it a listen. While there are many electronic music composers, a few of them had their heyday in the 80s, like Jean Michelle Jarre, Kitaro, or Jean Luc Ponty, Vangelis is probably considered the most serious, possibly because he wrote the music for great films like Blade Runner, and of course, his most famous piece, the theme for Chariots of Fire.

In this record, Vangelis explores his fellow countryman, Domenikos Theotokopoulos, El Greco. Vangelis takes you back to Toledo during the transition from the Renaissance to the Baroque. With heavy, byzantine sounds, bells, and apparently simple layering, Vangelis manages to transport the listener to another city and another era, amazing!

The beauty of this album lies precisely in the journey, the long notes, the reminiscence of old instruments and melodies. When paired with the paintings of El Greco or the ancient narrow streets of Toledo, you become transfixed. You might be in bleak South Florida, but your soul and your senses are in 16th-century Toledo.