Soccer vs football vs fútbol, Major League Soccer, a night at the Miami Inter game.

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Soccer, football, fútbol has always been played in the US, it was just never popular like baseball, American football, basketball or hockey, it was a college sport, like volleyball. Much has been written about this, but my reasoning on why soccer never became popular in the US reflects American isolation and provincialism.

The US was for decades self sufficient, it lacked the necessary international flow of goods and ideas to be on equal terms with the rest of the world. America did not so much trade as buy (or take, depending on the country) what they needed. Examples of this might be not using the metric system, not participating in WWI (until later), not joining the League of Nations (until later), etc. Sure, there were millions of immigrants, but their first concern was to assimilate into the local population as fast as possible; forgetting their language and adopting local “traditions” and way of life as a means of achieving the “American Dream”.

Only in the latter part of the 20th C until now, have many of those cultural barriers fallen and the US has (begrudgingly?)  opened up to the world. Maybe the new waves of immigrants were more reluctant to drop their heritage upon stepping on US soil, clearly technology has broken many walls, and so on.

But enough of my ramblings. The other day I was invited to the opening game of Inter Miami against Montreal. Some of my students generously offered tickets to a couple of us football loving teachers. The excursion was led by the Jesus Youth students; what a great bunch of generous, kind people.

One of the reasons Inter Miami is famous is because the president and one of the shareholders is David Beckham, husband of “Posh Spice” Victoria Beckham, and one of football’s great players, who like many greats played his golden years at Real Madrid. My sister Rocky was the first person to interview him when he arrived in Madrid in 2003!

We had a blast. Inter Miami still does not have a permanent stadium, playing out of a temporary facility, the AutoNation DRV PNK stadium. The beauty of a small stadium is how close everyone is to the field, it feels very intimate and enjoyable. Oh, Miami won 2-0.

Teaching outside the classroom

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The way we teach is outdated. We get students into a room, fill their brains with knowledge, test them on that knowledge, and when they do that successfully, we put a funny hat on their heads and send them into the world. Yes, we have improved a lot over the last half century, but our basics are still based on medieval educational systems.

Which is one of the reasons I love coaching. Of course one cannot teach subject content in sports, but there are many, many human qualities we can teach on the field: participation, selflessness, hard work, teamwork, communication, leadership, observation, sacrifice, and on and on.

The first lesson is to show up for practice -early, so you can get ready and settled in. The more you show up to practice -and early- the more chances you have of starting on game day, even if there are more skillful players than you but who do not show up consistently nor on time for practice.

Time and again we see less skillful but more united teams will beat more skillful teams that does not pass or communicate as well.

Another valuable lesson is the importance of practice. Musicians and the military understand this concept and execute it very well; the more you practice the better you get. Good athletes also understand how importance repetition is.

A few weeks ago, we won our home game against our Miami rivals. Although our opponents played their hearts out, we played selflessly and communicating, passing the ball and trusting each other, it was a pleasure to see the guys play. Go Shepherds!!

Photo Credit Dylan McKay

On the importance of first lines.

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You might not know this, but first lines are really important, first lines in writing specially. I recently had an opportunity to expound on this at a Language Dept. workshop at school.

We started by talking about how skillful writing hacks your brain so that you might not know your brain has been hacked. We showed a few examples of great first sentences -of course, there are many, many more. (Try to figure out the author and book, answers below – don’t cheat!). (We played a similar game on this blog on my post about Russian Literature, check it out here.)

  1. “Here is a small fact: You are going to die.”
  2. “En un lugar de la Mancha, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme, no ha mucho tiempo que vivía un hidalgo de los de lanza en astillero, adarga antigua, rocín flaco y galgo corredor.”
  3. “Happy families are all alike; unhappy families are all unhappy in their own way.”
  4. “Muchos años después, frente al pelotón de fusilamiento, el coronel Aureliano Buendía había de recordar aquella tarde remota en que su padre lo llevó a conocer el hielo.”
  5. “He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish.”
  6. “Lees ese anuncio: una oferta de esa naturaleza no se hace todos los días.”
  7. “Call me Ishmael.”

We had a good time going over those sentences and what made them good first sentences. Then we looked at how to write good sentences in general and especially for academic writing. The hands-on part of the workshop involved the students writing a sentence each until we had a first paragraph!

We had a good time and I hope the students left understanding the importance of first sentences!

Answers:

  1. The Book Thief. Markus Zusak
  2. Don Quijote de la Mancha, Miguel de Cervantes
  3. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
  4. Cien años de soledad, Gabriel García Márquez
  5. The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway
  6. Aura, Carlos Fuentes
  7. Moby Dick. Herman Melville

Andrea Bocelli and pay no attention to the opera snobs!

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Contrary to widespread belief, I do not consider myself an opera snob. Yes, I love opera, and I can appreciate some of the technical aspects of the art, but I do not have the ear, nor the training and knowledge to be too critical.

So when my dear friend Arlene invited me to see Andrea Bocelli last week, I embraced the warmth of his voice and the feeling he puts into his singing, without concerning myself too much about his voice wavering on the long high notes as his critics say. Straight from work I picked Arlene up and we drove through the detestable Miami traffic to the venue.

Very astutely, Bocelli played on February 14th to a full ice hockey stadium (the ice had been taken out, to be clear), the FLA Arena outside Miami, home of the Panthers. He sang his signature mix of opera arias: Brindisi from La Traviata, Una furtiva lagrima from Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore, La donna è mobile from Verdi’s Rigoletto, O soave fanciulla from Puccini’s La Boheme  and so on, with the grand finale being the obligatory and wonderful Nessun Dorma from Puccini’s Turandot.

Bocelli peppered his concert with his famous pop songs like Time to Say Goodbye and Vivo per lei. He also sang old classics like Somos novios and Bésame mucho. The concert featured many guest artists besides a full orchestra and chorus: a jazz singer, a soprano, a violinist and wonderful dancers, even his wife accompanied him on a song!

All in all, it was a great concert worth listening to, regardless of what the opera snobs say!

Jazz, Branford Marsalis, and the saxophone

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My dad loved Jazz, every road trip we did I was in charge of the playlist; a bunch of jazz cassettes. Since his passing in 2015 I have not really re-visited the genre, it still hurts.

But the other day I got an offer I could not refuse: an invitation to see Branford Marsalis, in Miami.

My mind was blown to smithereens in the Summer of 1985, when Sting released his first “solo” album; The Dream of the Blue Turtles, heavily Jazz influenced, and featuring Marsalis’ saxophone. I was already a fan of Sting from The Police (drummer Stewart Copeland went to the same school as me in London a few years before me), but now I was turned onto Marsalis.

The first and only time I got to see Marsalis was with his New Orleans buddy Harry Connick Jr. in New York City in the late 80’s. I still remember that concert!

Last Tuesday. My old student –and Cine Forum founder– Will, invited a Peabody Conservatory friend and me to see Marsalis play the works of James Reese Europe. A musician who fought in World War I, only to be stabbed to death upon his return to the US by a drummer in Boston, such is life.

Marsalis only played a handful of numbers, but it was beautiful and well worth it. Will, Michelle and I enjoyed a nice dinner at El Chalán, a walk around South Beach, the concert, and a farewell drink at the Royal Palm Hotel where Will was staying. A perfect evening.

Speaking of Cine Forum, this month we are watching Taxi Blues, Ida, and Stilyagi (Hipsters) all  Russian (Ida is Polish) and all feature the saxophone as a central character, what a coincidence!

Oh, by the way, Branford has a brother Wynton, who is possibly the most amazing trumpet player you can listen to!!

Shabbat Shalom! An evening of celebration at Temple Beth El

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When did my fascination with world religions start? I don’t really know, but I love learning about other faiths. It was a blessing to have worked with my dear friend Kamel from Egypt who taught me so much about Islam, and about Hinduism through my yoga teacher, Paritosh.

I did not knowingly have a Jewish friend until high school, and since then I have been intrigued by their culture and history. Last year I finally got to experience a Seder dinner, and last Friday I was generously invited to Shabbat services at temple Beth El in Boca Raton. What an experience!

One of our professors, Rabbi Larry Kotok, arranged for a group of students and faculty to visit Temple Beth El for Shabbat, I signed up right away. The Senior Rabbi, Dan Levin gave us a briefing before the service. It was a special service since it was Shabbat Shirah, a musical celebration of the separation of the Red Sea. Singer Elana Arian was brought in from New York to lead the celebrations and she did not disappoint.

The Temple has been recently renovated, and it is beautiful, very, very well done. It is very “homey”, beautifully carpeted, with nooks for chatting, a great bookshelf called Soaring Wisdom, a cute little gift shop, there is even a sculpture attributed to Salvador Dalí.

The whole thing was so beautiful, I must confess a couple of times during the service I was overcome with emotions. After the service, we were invited to a great BBQ dinner in the patio, we chatted with some members of the congregation before saying good-bye.

A Quiet Abiding: Jacobus Vrel’s Interior with a Sick Woman by a Fireplace

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This world is driving us all crazy, it is polarized, violent, in a rush, inconsiderate, uneducated, younameit. But there are a few solutions, a few ways out. One is art. We need more art in our lives. Art makes us slow down, it makes us stop, stop and look, stop and listen, stop and touch, stop and smell, stop and taste.

Last Saturday, although I was just coming out of a massive cold, I went to see A Quiet Abiding: Jacobus Vrel’s Interior with a Sick Woman by a Fireplace from the n at my oasis of culture and art: the Norton Museum of Art.

I arrived at the same time as the Chinese Dragon show was about to start in the garden to celebrate the Lunar New Year, but I went straight upstairs to see this painting, which will be on show at the Norton for two years.

Little is known about Vrel other than he barely preceded Vermeer, in fact the painting has an air of Vermeer, but apparently it is the other way around Vermeer has an air of Vrel.

The painting is beautiful, simple, quiet, and alluring. You want to make some tea for the sick old lady, some chicken soup. There is a weak fire in the fireplace, and that flickering flame, a handful of tiny brushstrokes, makes the painting, brings it all together, it is amazing!! A little like the flowers in infanta Margarita Teresa de Austria’s dress in Velazquez’s Meninas.

If you are around Palm Beach up until December 15 2024, do not miss this painting. You are welcome.

A night at the theatre

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One of the advantages of spending time in a city is being able to take public transport -or even walking- to a theatre.

Although I am a big fan of musical theatre, I’m sad to say that my last post about musicals was 11 years ago! In fact, it was my twelfth post in this blog, when I was invited to see Spiderman on Broadway. Fortunately, it was not my last show, but the last one I wrote about. So it is about time.

My Christmas gift this year was tickets to The Lion King. Celia and I walked down Madrid’s Gran Via, our Broadway, to the iconic Lope de Vega theatre. It was packed, and has been for years, not an available seat in the house.

The show was appropriately spectacular, with an amazing cast and orchestra. We enjoyed every number!

After the show we enjoyed a lovely cocktail at my favorite bar: Del Diego.

On the importance of family

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Antonio Balson x 2

There is an old African proverb that says,

“If you want to go fast, go alone, if you want to go far, go together.” African Proverb –

It is only within the last few years that I have arrived at that same conclusion myself.

This realization came from seeing my parents and aunts and uncles getting older, and dying. So, I started calling cousins and aunts and uncles regularly to say “Hi”. Whenever possible, meeting them for a coffee or a meal.

Maybe part of what triggered my reaching out is the fact that I live thousands of miles away from Spain, making my desire to be close to my family even greater.

What difference does this make? You might ask. Well, for me, besides feeling closer to the people I grew up with, I feel richer, much richer; my heart feels fuller, I am happier knowing that I spent quality time with people I love and that I know love me.

Of course I am not talking about immediate family, my sisters, in laws, nieces and nephews, that is sort of a given, but one must make every effort to make sure one stays close to their loved ones, who have known you the longest, even if you did not necessarily hang out with them regularly when you were children.

This is the lesson for this week: pick up that phone and if you have the luxury of still having them, call a grandparent, or call a cousin, an uncle, an aunt you have not spoken to for a while. Guaranteed it will put a smile on your face.

Mi 92 year old uncle, Luis

On Bullfighting

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Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter’s honor.

― Ernest Hemingway, Death in the Afternoon

Yes, I love the bullfight. Why? Because it boils down the most basic human emotions. Here is someone (the bullfighter) willing to dance with death with a 700 lbs. (at least) beautiful, noble animal. Although the bullfighter has the edge, he must use all his skill, and valor in a highly choreographed ritual to vanquish the bull. The bullfighter does not always win, and therein lies the excitement. There is a primary, primal relationship between life and death, between the fighter and the bull, between man and animal. And only a profound understanding of that relationship, of that beauty will lead you to understand why a man will stand in front of death, and dance with it.

Of course, bullfighting dates back to the Roman circus, and even before that, to the Greek and Cretan games. This is the very stuff Greek mythology is based on (partly). Humans fighting it out with amazing animals. In a hyper material world, we think we can live forever, bullfighting reminds you of your own mortality, you understand that death is part of life and that if you get to die with dignity and grace, all the better.

If you have not been to a bullfight -and had it explained to you- I am afraid you cannot opine. The centuries of tradition, the intricate ceremony involved, the part each person plays in and out of the ring. The whole thing is nothing less than amazing.

My dad was a big aficionado and he passed on his passion to me. I remember the first time he took me to the bullring; he would not let me go without socks, even when it was all the rage in the early eighties!! Although I have been to Las Ventas bullring many, many times (for bullfights and concerts: Sting, Prince, etc.) I had never actually visited the ring, nor had I visited the museum. A couple from Belgium recently booked me for a tour of Madrid and asked me to see Las Ventas. So, the day before I went to the bullring to do my homework with my niece, it was impressive! We walked around the ring checking out the bulls’ stables, the chapel, the stands, the museum, the obligatory gift shop, we even had a chance to try our hand at virtual reality bullfighting!! It was great fun!!

If you want to learn more I highly recommend Hemingway’s Death in the Afternoon. Hemingway loved the bullfight and followed them for a full Summer, getting to befriend and hang out with great fighters like Manolete.

The bullfight is a Spanish institution; it has not existed because of the foreigners and tourists, but always in spite of them and any step to modify it to secure their approval, which it will never have, is a step towards its complete suppression.

― Ernest Hemingway, Death in the Afternoon