Chapter 8 noblewoman (4)

The commercial is finally over. After seeing a group of burly men rolling on the lawn, we see the stadium again, hear the narration of the commentator on the scene, then a close-up of the commentator's brain full of fat (slave of assorted casserole), and finally Back on the field again.The players all entered the field, and I was deeply attracted at this time.At first I didn't understand why, here was the same image as usual, but there was a new effect, a tingling sensation, anticipation, the idea of ​​"holding your breath".My father next to me, drinking his Gallic beer in one gulp and preparing to continue the Gallic blood, asked my mother, who had just left the arm of the sofa, to bring him another bottle.I, holding my breath, "what's going on?" I thought to myself while watching the TV, I couldn't believe what I saw, and my heart was itching like a needle.

It dawned on me when the New Zealand players started performing their haka.Among them was a tall young Maori player.It was him who caught my attention from the very beginning, maybe because of his height at first, but then because of the way he moved.It was a very peculiar way of moving, so natural and fluid, but above all it was a kind of cohesion, I mean cohesion in himself.Most people, when they move, move according to their surroundings.Just like at this very moment, when I was writing my journal, I happened to pass by Constitution with a belly dragged on the ground.This female cat has never had any formed plans in her life, yet at this moment she is heading in a certain direction, possibly towards the couch.This can be judged from the way it moves: it, where to go.Mom walked towards the door just now, she was going to go shopping, but in fact, she was already outside, and her actions had betrayed her.I'm not quite sure how to explain all this, but when we move, our anatomy is so to speak broken down by "going" movements: we can be there and not be there at the same time because we're "going" "Go elsewhere, I hope you understand what I mean, in order to avoid the decomposition of the body structure, it should not move anymore.Either you are moving, then you are no longer whole; or you are whole, then you cannot move.But this player, when I see him on the pitch, I already feel that there is something unusual about him.I got the impression that he was moving, yes, but at the same time he was standing still.Ridiculous, isn't it?When the jacuzzi began, I noticed him especially, he was distinctly different.At this time, assorted casserole No. 1 said: "Ah, this New Zealand defender who makes the players fear, his tall and burly figure always impresses people, 2 meters 07, 118 kg, 11 seconds for the 100 meters, It's a beautiful babe, yes, ladies look!" Everyone was enamored with him, but no one really seemed to know why.In fact, everything is known from the haka: when he moves, he does the same movements as everyone else (slapping the palms on the thighs, stomping the ground rhythmically, touching the elbows, doing these movements while eyes on the opponent, with the air of a nervous fighter).However, when other people's movements are sent to their opponents, and at the same time all the audience in the audience are watching them, the player's movements still stay on him, condensed on himself, which brings him a unique feeling. A sense of presence, an incredible intensity.At the same time, the haka dance, which originally belonged to the warrior dance, produced enormous power. The power of this warrior is not that he sends out intimidating messages to scare opponents, but the power he can condense on himself, and at the same time Self-centered, the Maori player, he became a big tree, an indestructible deep-rooted oak tree, into a ray of light, the intensity that everyone could feel light.It was, however, affirmed that the great oak tree, notwithstanding, or rather thanks to, its strong roots, which were deeply rooted in the earth, could fly, and as fast as the air.

At the same time, I watched the game very intently, looking for the same thing to happen from time to time: a player himself becomes his own movement, without needing to decompose himself, where to go.I finally saw this tight moment!I've seen it throughout the game: in a scrimmage, a player who finds his roots, an obvious point of balance, becomes the little immobile anchor that gives his strength to the team; When launching an attack, a player adjusts to the best speed, does not think about the goal, sticks the ball tightly to his body, concentrates on his own movements, and rushes forward as if by divine force; when the player who shoots wants to shoot the ball At times, he is completely isolated from the world in order to find the best footwork.But none are as good as the great Maori players.When he got the first touchdown shot for New Zealand, Dad looked dumbfounded, his mouth was open, he forgot to drink his beer, he should be angry because he supported France In fact, it was just the opposite. He patted his forehead and said: "This player is awesome!" Running forward, leaving everyone else behind; while the other players looked like they were frantically and clumsily chasing him, but they just couldn't catch him.

So I said to myself: Come on, I can find still motion in the world.Is this worth my continued life?At this very moment, a French player dropped his shorts during a scrimmage and suddenly, I was completely disappointed because it made everyone laugh and cry, including my father, who was back again. Started drinking beer, and even though we were a two-hundred-year-old Christian family, I felt blasphemous at the time. Ah, no, this is not enough, there should be other actions to convince me.But it at least gave me an idea of ​​the action.