I am not keen on football. Anybody knows that. Well then, right now I am translating a football magazine, having my flatmate answer my technical questions - I just learned what a sweeper system is, though I´ll be damned if I know how to translate it - and we´ve got the Champions League on the telly.
More unsettling still, I find the articles pretty interesting. They´re no match reviews or anything of the kind, they are rather about tactics, history, UEFA projects, and so on. It is a good read, yet a bloody difficult one to translate. My partner in this enterprise helps me with the technical terms. I must thank him for the opportunity to improve my liquidity in these most dismal of times as I widen my horizons of knowledge. Only yesterday I learnt that the Beretta pistol is manufactured in Brescia, or that India’s greatest contribution to football history was its withdrawal from the 1950 World Cup because players weren’t allowed to play in bare feet (everything is culture).
For one that thinks the sole virtue of football is a talent to kill of boredom, the whole thing is rather ironic.
