Italy is an amazing country. In the day to day life of its streets is present the past on which they have been cemented. Each city in which you immerse yourself ridicules the beauty of your previous shipwreck.
Venice, Rome or Milan are cities flooded with flattery that incite us to evade reality. Florence, however, pushes those who visit it awake to pursue their dreams. Even so, its present seems cloudy as it pursues to survive its most feared nightmare: a city of reference in the world of art that is shedding one of its best works.
Let’s not be alarmed, you know that in this blog we talk about football, and in this case the precious asset we are referring to is Dusan Vlahovic. The Serbian, like the city that has witnessed his dawn, does not mask silences if it is not necessary. Like any predator, terrifying by definition, he has turned prudence into his greatest virtue. His numbers are outrageous, but he has preferred to opt for stealth. His goal has never been to become a media cover but to become an icon of the sport he loves so much. I admire him not only for his alarming ability to perform but also for his attitude and resilience.
Obstinately those of us who claim to be fans of this sport, award the crown of the future to spectacular players like Mbappé or Haaland but with an unprecedented ego. Poor deluded people! We still don’t understand that silence is the key to the ascent to the skies of success.