strange and dark country
Here, have some momentary crack relief.
Five things Kaká misses about Sheva.
1. His voice. The clearly enunciated, practiced precision of it that nevertheless managed to be slow and soft and lazy in the right context. The solemn way his words dropped into the air, steady, with a certain sort of heaviness. It's a voice made for reading.
2. The way he made coffee early in the morning, before training. It sounds like a stupid thing to miss about someone, something insignificant and meaningless out of all those fundamental things that make up a person, but it is what it is - Kaká misses the line of his back, his bare arms and quiet, sure fingers, the way he leaned against a kitchen table with a spoon in his mouth and newspaper in his hands.
3. His tidiness. Kaká is helplessly forgetful, slightly untidy, despite his best intentions, but Sheva always knew exactly where everything was, what time his appointments began, the names of his maid's nieces and nephews.
4. That awful habit he had of leaning on Kaká during interviews, on the bench, in public spaces, pressing their sides together, throwing an arm around his neck, leaning over his shoulder - the smell of him, crook of his elbow, the slight smile Kaká could just catch from the corner of his eye before Sheva folded, tucked it away.
5. How he kissed.
For niche: Five things Canna wants to do to Pirlo.
1. Cut his hair. He would say shave, but he knows that Pirlo would never let happen as long as he was still breathing. Actually, even if he wasn't, his ghost would probably come back with a vengeance and haunt the offender forever. Or something.
2. Shove him, fully-suited in Armani, into the deep end of a pool and see what happens. He needs to relax more.
3. Take him to a tattoo artist. Cannavaro swears Pirlo is perhaps the only member of the Azzurri without a single tattoo anywhere, although, to be honest, he can't quite be 100% positive.
4. He wouldn't turn down the chance to be, mind.
5. Get him really, really drunk in some shithole of a bar that doesn't have seventeen types of whiskey or crystal glasses. The boy's gotta slum it sometime.
I love Wikipedia.
Five Liverpool players that found out about Xabi & Stevie (and how).
1. Didi. First of all, people tell him everything. Second of all, people tell him everything more willingly when they're terrifically drunk.
2. John. He'd forgotten a pair of spare trainers one day after training and headed back to the locker room to get them; entering, he paused, peeked around a corner upon hearing raised voices. Xabi was backed up against a locker, Stevie's hand pushing on his chest, keeping him that way - there was an odd sort of tightness about the scene, their postures, Stevie's voice when he spoke.
"Why not?"
"I have a sense of self-preservation, you know." Xabi smiled, slow and calculated, a little mocking; the expression looked strange, unfamiliar on his face. It wasn't until Stevie walked out the other door that he said something in Spanish (whatever it was, John was pretty sure it wasn't nice) and hurled a boot against the row of lockers. The dent quietly disappeared after a couple of days; John didn't say anything.
3. Pepe. Xabi had basically told him, the night after the FA Cup final. Pepe was pretty hammered by that point, but he's almost positive that Xabi wasn't.
4. Bolo. Calling Xabi at four in the morning only to hear Steven's voice on the other end of the phone was a little bit of a surprise.
5. Jamie. It wasn't anything obvious, really. The team streamed into the locker room after a match; Jamie had looked up from untying his shoes, meaning to ask Stevie if training was at the usual time tomorrow or something mundane like that, but stopped short. Stevie wasn't looking at him but rather at Xabi, who was talking with Pepe, gesturing with quick hands. The expression on Stevie's face, though - it was the same look he had worn around Danny, the same look he had when he first met Alex, strangely open and unaware and single-minded, like there was only one person in the world who mattered at that very moment. Jamie had thought oh god and please be smarter about this and I know you won't be, so at least don't fuck up again, he doesn't deserve that.
Five things Kaká misses about Sheva.
1. His voice. The clearly enunciated, practiced precision of it that nevertheless managed to be slow and soft and lazy in the right context. The solemn way his words dropped into the air, steady, with a certain sort of heaviness. It's a voice made for reading.
2. The way he made coffee early in the morning, before training. It sounds like a stupid thing to miss about someone, something insignificant and meaningless out of all those fundamental things that make up a person, but it is what it is - Kaká misses the line of his back, his bare arms and quiet, sure fingers, the way he leaned against a kitchen table with a spoon in his mouth and newspaper in his hands.
3. His tidiness. Kaká is helplessly forgetful, slightly untidy, despite his best intentions, but Sheva always knew exactly where everything was, what time his appointments began, the names of his maid's nieces and nephews.
4. That awful habit he had of leaning on Kaká during interviews, on the bench, in public spaces, pressing their sides together, throwing an arm around his neck, leaning over his shoulder - the smell of him, crook of his elbow, the slight smile Kaká could just catch from the corner of his eye before Sheva folded, tucked it away.
5. How he kissed.
For niche: Five things Canna wants to do to Pirlo.
1. Cut his hair. He would say shave, but he knows that Pirlo would never let happen as long as he was still breathing. Actually, even if he wasn't, his ghost would probably come back with a vengeance and haunt the offender forever. Or something.
2. Shove him, fully-suited in Armani, into the deep end of a pool and see what happens. He needs to relax more.
3. Take him to a tattoo artist. Cannavaro swears Pirlo is perhaps the only member of the Azzurri without a single tattoo anywhere, although, to be honest, he can't quite be 100% positive.
4. He wouldn't turn down the chance to be, mind.
5. Get him really, really drunk in some shithole of a bar that doesn't have seventeen types of whiskey or crystal glasses. The boy's gotta slum it sometime.
I love Wikipedia.
Five Liverpool players that found out about Xabi & Stevie (and how).
1. Didi. First of all, people tell him everything. Second of all, people tell him everything more willingly when they're terrifically drunk.
2. John. He'd forgotten a pair of spare trainers one day after training and headed back to the locker room to get them; entering, he paused, peeked around a corner upon hearing raised voices. Xabi was backed up against a locker, Stevie's hand pushing on his chest, keeping him that way - there was an odd sort of tightness about the scene, their postures, Stevie's voice when he spoke.
"Why not?"
"I have a sense of self-preservation, you know." Xabi smiled, slow and calculated, a little mocking; the expression looked strange, unfamiliar on his face. It wasn't until Stevie walked out the other door that he said something in Spanish (whatever it was, John was pretty sure it wasn't nice) and hurled a boot against the row of lockers. The dent quietly disappeared after a couple of days; John didn't say anything.
3. Pepe. Xabi had basically told him, the night after the FA Cup final. Pepe was pretty hammered by that point, but he's almost positive that Xabi wasn't.
4. Bolo. Calling Xabi at four in the morning only to hear Steven's voice on the other end of the phone was a little bit of a surprise.
5. Jamie. It wasn't anything obvious, really. The team streamed into the locker room after a match; Jamie had looked up from untying his shoes, meaning to ask Stevie if training was at the usual time tomorrow or something mundane like that, but stopped short. Stevie wasn't looking at him but rather at Xabi, who was talking with Pepe, gesturing with quick hands. The expression on Stevie's face, though - it was the same look he had worn around Danny, the same look he had when he first met Alex, strangely open and unaware and single-minded, like there was only one person in the world who mattered at that very moment. Jamie had thought oh god and please be smarter about this and I know you won't be, so at least don't fuck up again, he doesn't deserve that.