Chronic
Every week
Frédéric Boyer’s chronicle
On the occasion of the World Cup in the United States, some are giving us the old stale antiphon about the skin color of our national team. “Too many blacks,” we are told. I like football, I’ve never played it, but I’m always happy to watch a match. It makes me think of an ancient tragedy played out by a group of friends who run after a ball like one runs after destiny. The rules of football are there to allow them to play together, and to make us part of the show, not to ostracize anyone. It is a form of catharsis which occurs through the balloon, the desirable and mobile object of our hope launched as a challenge to the gods.
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