Jun 9, 2017
Canyon barn, WA. MW|Works Architecture+Design, Seattle. Tim Bies photo.
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Canyon barn, WA. MW|Works Architecture+Design, Seattle. Tim Bies photo.
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But First We Attack | September 6, 2017 - By Marcelo for The Players' Tribune On joining Real Madrid “So, as I was saying, I’m on a plane to Madrid. 😀 Remember, I had just turned 18. I swear to God that I thought I was just going there for a chat. When I arrived to meet with the club, I saw the contract on the table, with the Real Madrid crest on it and everything — and I signed that shit so fast. Then the guys in the suits walked me straight out onto the field. They unveiled me to the media that day. I had no idea. My own family back in Brazil told me that they didn’t believe it was real until they saw the news on Globo Esporte: 18-YEAR-OLD MARCELO ANNOUNCED AT REAL MADRID. I think the reason that everything seemed so unreal to me was that Roberto Carlos was my idol. To me, he was God. To come into the same team as Roberto, at the same position, I couldn’t believe it. Walking into that locker room … you had Robinho, Cicinho, Júlio Baptista, Emerson, Ronaldo, Roberto Carlos. Then of course Casillas, Raúl, Beckham, Cannavaro. Little Marcelito walked in there like, Oh shit, I only know these guys from video games! They could have eaten me alive. But let me tell you something important about Real Madrid. It is a special club in this way. Roberto Carlos walked up to me the first day and said, “Here’s my phone number. You need anything — anything — you call me.” My first Christmas in Madrid, he invited my wife and I over to his house with his whole family. This guy is my idol, and we’re fighting for the same position at left back. Most guys wouldn’t have done that for the young kid. But that’s Roberto Carlos. He was confident. That’s the sign of a true man.
I took inspiration from him on the pitch, too. Roberto Carlos would go up and down that left wing like a beast. Whether you love me or you hate me, you know what you’re getting when I’m out there. I love to attack. No, not just attack. ATTACK, you know? And then later on, in the back? If we got a problem, we’ll fix it. We’ll figure it out. But first, we attack. You can only play with this kind of freedom if you have a good understanding with your partners. Fabio Cannavaro would play on my side, and he’d say to me, “You can go, Marcelo. I’m here. Kick off your shoes. Relax. I’m Cannavaro. I got this.” It’s like Casemiro does with me nowadays. “Go ahead, Marcelo. We’ll worry about the other stuff later.” Ahhhh, Casemiro. He saved my life. I might play until I’m 45 with this guy by my side 😉 When I first got to Madrid, Cannavaro helped me loosen up a lot. The rule was that I could attack as long as I sprinted back. But if I was late? Man, then it got real. The man could yell. In Brazil, we have an expression. Pegava no pé. It’s like, you’re hard on them for a reason. Cannavaro was hard on me for a reason, and I love him for that.”
Olivia Culpo, Devon Windsor and Nadine Leopold attend the Pamella Roland Spring 2018 Collection Show during New York Fashion Week on September 6, 2017 in New York City.
I fucks with myself a little bit 💛💛💛 09.06.17. Happy Blackout!!!!!!❤❤❤❤
Harry choosing to sing Two Ghosts again last night is hitting me in a whole new way now.
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lovelies
i'm not going to risk your life. but you'll risk yours though, will you? really? yeah, of course. because i love you.
with a hot rush of dizzy tears, i remember what i miss. what there is to miss. the soft solidarity of slow hours slumped with strangers, slowly unravelling each others thoughts and stories, the way we talk and cry and laugh because we have nowhere else to go, nothing to see. a crowded waiting room for something breathtakingly anticipated. and as the night inches to dusty darkness, the cold bites, forcing us to stand, pull blankets tight, clutch slips of paper and wait. the high fever of those few hours, nervous, fizzing adrenaline as the clock drags its hands around. and finally, it comes. masses spill into a vast room, moulded together in a warm mess, but nothing else matters. we are bone tired, giddy, voices ready. and in those moments, where the faint buzz rises and the shouts build, crescendoing to a frantic wall of noise, that is when it is tangible. an exploding star, a sparking substance crashing around us as the lights dim, as the curtain drops.