How Can Marcelo Bielsa's Friends Think He Talks Too Much?
Imagine being the first person to greet him after his retreat. They might have thought this madman would never stop talking. 'So what you're saying is, Marcelo,' they might interrupt in a breath-long pause after a night's talk has run on into breakfast, 'Maradona was a good player?'
There he is, the Wetherby pub bore, sitting in the corner all night, splitting one pint into two glasses with his yawning mate, while the landlord tuts and calculates takings per hour for his table. More drinking and less yakking would get the till ringing, but it doesn't take much to set this bloke off. Just two Leeds fans at a nearby table, one saying to the other, 'You see Raphinha got called up for Brazil? Good player, him.'
Aw hell's bells, here we go, he's off now isn't he:
"He's a very potent player and it's very difficult to triumph in the Premier League if you don't have this potency. This explosiveness and repetitions, quick physical responses. On top of that he sustains the efforts of any problems but players in those conditions, there are many in the Premier League. What there are very few players of, is the players of his talent with his feet to resolve a situation. Apart from that, being able to imagine the responses and be able to actually do them also."
Yeah, so, like they said: good player, Raphinha. The thing is, Marcelo Bielsa, for he is this bore in the corner, seems to be aware of how his monologues go down:
"If I were with my friends, they would say, ‘so many words just to say that he plays well.’"
But can that really be true? Replace that imaginary scene above with another one. If, in a pub in Wetherby, two Leeds fans were idly chatting about Raphinha, and then actual Marcelo Bielsa himself politely offered an opinion from the corner table where he was writing tactical plans with his assistants, would those fans end up thinking, 'Jeez, this bloke goes on a bit, doesn't he?' No, they would not. They would hardly be able to breathe despite their brains' desperation for oxygen to help them imprint every moment spent in Bielsa's presence so deeply into the best memories of their lives that the marrying of spouses and births of children were elbowed out. When he finished speaking, they would stay silent in the hope he might continue. After an appropriate pause, they might dare to encourage him to speak more, urging a few additional words on any subject they can think of, praying they can prolong the interaction without being disrespectful of this great person's precious time.
So I guess the question is, what's up with Marcelo's friends, then, if they think he talks too much? We know this opinion from his enemies, who think all his blather is just 'selling smoke'. But can he really have tired his friends out to the point they roll eyes and swap glances when he goes forth, multiplying their understanding of the game if only they'd stop fiddling with their phones? 'Yeah, I guess so, Marcelo. Anyway, anybody see Emmerdale?'