When you take more than one mg of Xanax after drinking wine for hours it’s difficult to wake up the next day. Usually this potentially dangerous combination knocks me unconscious into the middle of the following afternoon. But sometimes you need to sacrifice your comfort for your commitment to higher ideals and superior forces. Eight o’clock, Saturday morning, was one of those times. I had to prove myself.
And so, with this tenacious investment in tradition that would not be deterred by any self-prescribed drug cocktail, I awoke in an unbalanced yet proud state so that I might bear witness to perhaps one of the most important events of the twenty-first century: the pre-practice release of Nike’s jersey commemorating one hundred years of the Sport Club Corinthians Paulista.
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| Sobriety: Nine a.m. = wholesome family activity |
Parque São Jorge was teeming with over three thousand anxious fans of all varieties: tough guys in old Corinthian jerseys shouted for Ronaldo, high-heeled moms rocked their corinthiano babies to the American hip-hop raucously thumping from table-top PA speakers, and teenage boys gripped the metal fence in anticipation of this event they knew they would be able to rub in the faces of their Palmeras and São Paulo-supporting schoolmates. From the sun-soaked cement steps where I was sitting, many of the excited fans did not need Xanax to enjoy this moment or to diminish any anxiety about the shirt, nor Ronaldo’s return to the team, nor the indication of our new stadium in Itaquera, which would also host the opening of the 2014 World Cup. Yes, things were looking good for all of my non-drugged out compatriots as we awaited this momentous occasion.
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| 100 anos! Beleza, gente! |
The team took the field in jackets and stood on a slightly elevated platform. The announcer counted down, as the crowd joined in. TEN! NINE! The sun was really hot. EIGHT! Man, I was happy that I remembered to wear my sunglasses or this might have been hell. SEVEN! SIX! Maybe I should have bought more water from the concession stand? FIVE! FOUR! THREE! Why is the whole team facing the other direction? They’re facing the São Jorge club members, I guess. TWO! ONE! Fireworks exploded! I was slow to find them. The stadium cheered! I couldn’t feel my legs.
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| The shirt wins! |
Eventually, the team turned to our side of the park and our continued applause. Then practice began. I stumbled down to field level to get a closer look. The shirts look great—the original logo and a tasteful white and off-white stripe (reminiscent of the team’s first jersey’s color) matched with black accents. Ronaldo does look out of shape. My neck was made out of jelly and my fingers were numb. Disembodiment was a small price to pay for such a great cause. Even at R$189,90, The Church of Nike has set a low price for these classic indulgences, because ultimately, as Seinfeld once famously pointed out, “You’re actually rooting for the clothes, when you get right down to it. You know what I mean? You are standing and cheering and yelling for your clothes to beat the clothes from another city.” Our new clothes are awesome. There is no disputing that. This will be a great 100 years for all of us—Itaquera and Xanax permitting.
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