#cbf! pepe

[lilioopdf]

always enough time (cardigan)

pairing: reader x (childhood best friend! + college!) pepe marti

notes: fluff, a little angst, then fluff again! 3.2k words (oops 😓😓 i should've probably split this up)

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: dedicating this to my lovely mutuals who have been here from the very beginning and even before i started writing 💗💗 idk if this is too sappy but i genuinely love you guys for interacting with my writing posts and my non-racing posts because it really does mean so so much to me and i didn’t know any better way to say thank you

and if you’re reading this, have a lovely lovely day/ahead ahead 💞💞 may people always shower you in love and warm hugs

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

the first time his eyes meets yours, you’re 4, clinging onto your father’s trousers as he speaks to another man about work related things. it is a business event, after all. he waves at you, a complete stranger then, and he watches as your head tilts a little, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise, before you hide your face behind your father.

he’s six, and yet he still feels his face burn in embarrassment, all because the prettiest girl at the party didn't say hi back.

he sees you again the next day, when you're both having dinner with your fathers at a hidden little restaurant near the beach. your fathers recognise each other almost instantly, and you suddenly find yourself sat next to him as the adults talk about complicated grown up topics over some drinks.

after dinner, he offers you half his cookie under the table, and you give him half of your ice cream in return.

he's too shy to say anything this time, but he lets you play with his toy car the very moment he notices you looking at it curiously.

it's a strange start to your friendship, but it's a sweet one nonetheless.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

you grow up together, but at a distance, only seeing each other during summers when you would follow your fathers to overseas work conferences.

he looks out for you for years.

when you're 8, he teaches you how to ride a bike. how to tie your shoelaces so you don't have to stick to velcro shoes forever. how to run faster, how to run without tripping over your own feet. he's gentle with you, and doesn't ever seem to mind your clumsiness.

you're only ever the same height as him once, and that is when you're 11. that year, his hair is almost always a little too overgrown, but he smiles more, and he has more stories to tell. he's at a new school now, one where they can bring their own phones with them. he tells you about the new subjects he's learning; physics, chemistry, english lit, and history. he has more friends now, and he shows you pictures of them alongside their text messages about online games you don't quite get.

when you're 13, he seems so different from the boy you knew last year. he's significantly taller than you now, and his voice cracks a less frequently than it used to, but he still blushes lightly whenever it happens. you don't mind though. if anything, it makes him even more endearing. pepe tells you about how he joined his school's soccer team this year, but you're sure you would've known even if he didn't tell you. he's so much happier these days, but he seems so grown up too. so much more ahead of you in life, at least.

the year you turn 15, things start to feel a little funny. 2 years feels like too big of a difference between the two of you now, and he just feels like too much of a boy. he towers over you now, and his voice has changed so much that you couldn't recognise it when he called out your name at the airport. you notice how the girls around you seem to look at him a little longer, letting their gaze linger on him for a little too long before they notice you at the side, standing awkwardly and feeling just a little too out of place.

you don't know how to feel about the fact that he's almost always looking at you instead.

now, he's quicker at picking up on your body language. he puts an arm around you and holds you when he can tell that your cramps are too bad, he's quick to offer you his jacket when the wind is just a little too chilly, and he's always carrying around your things for you. "just looking out for you," he says. "don't want you feeling alone when i'm right here."

and then you're 16, and lines start to grow a little blurry. it's a year full of insecurities and unfufilled longing, and most of the summer is spent in your head. it's weird to hang around him like that now. you start to distance yourself from him, but you're pretty sure he doesn't notice anyway. he still brings you around for dinner with him and to hang out, and you accept, but you don't ask him to follow you to places you'd like to visit anymore.

you run into a school friend of his one day, and you're suddenly made aware of just how differently he acts around you. his friend's nice to look at, you think. pepe tells you that's he's a soccer teammate from school. he calls you pretty and asks for your instagram, but pepe says something you don't understand in spanish and his friend just nods, apologises, and leaves, leaving you feeling just a little wounded and put off. you wonder if you did something wrong, but you're too scared to even ask your school friends for advice. they've all passed this silly stage anyway— you're the only one who's never even had a crush, let alone be asked out.

pepe gets his first girlfriend by the end of the year, and you're almost happy for him, except you can't help but feel a little jealous. it's silly though, you think. you're just a lovesick teenage girl pining over an older boy. she's cool and loud and she's always able to visit the same places and parties as him. a perfect match. he sees her more often than he sees you anyway.

your friendship ends on a rocky note the year you turn 17. neither of you follow your fathers the next year. neither of you can. it's pepe's last year with you before going off to university.

that summer, you're on your phone almost the whole time, texting a guy from school who's just asked you out. a hockey player of some sort. he parties and drinks a lot, but he's nice to you, and somewhat interested, you suppose.

when pepe finds out, he lets out a huff of laughter. "you're not seriously considering dating him though, are you? this is just for fun, right?"

you feel yourself still at his words. "what do you mean?"

"he won't be good for you. you're just... not like that. that lifestyle wouldn't suit you," he replies nonchalantly.

your blood burns just underneath the surface of your skin in anger and annoyance.

"who are you to say what lifestyle suits me? maybe this is what i want. i've grown up, you know."

you're more hurt than angry, although you're not quite sure why. your tone is indignant and fierce, and you watch as his expression turns neutral and unreadable and his eyes flicker from you, to your phone, and back at you again.

when he realises that you're being serious, his face contorts into an ugly expression, one of anger and almost a little bit of hurt.

"fine, suit yourself then."

then he walks out the room, and hot tears start running down your face.

and that is that. he still says goodbye to you at the airport, but the both of you don't hug this time.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

you try not to think about him for the next two years.

you drown yourself in your schoolwork, tackling assignment after assignment, exam after exam, anything to prevent yourself from indulging in any thoughts of him.

when a childhood friend brings him up one day, asking why you don't meet him during summer anymore, you pretend that he was just a phase. just a blip in your life; minor and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

time goes by, and you continue to study hard, because you want to study humanities and the arts in university but still have the grades to prove that you could've done stem if you wanted to (like pepe, although you'd never admit to thinking that).

and then in a blink of an eye, you've graduated, and your months long break comes around as you wait for uni results to come back out.

its been a full two years now, but you'd be lying if you said you'd forgotten about him completely.

how could you?

you thought about him during mugging season in school, and during university applications, and sometimes (maybe especially so) during interschool games for soccer, imagining what it would be like if he was here, playing for your school team. (you also wonder what it'd be like to wear his jersey and cheer him on loudly and proudly in front of the whole schoot, but that's not something you're ever going to admit.)

you spend your summer soothing yourself to sleep by reminding yourself that pepe's been gone for two years now, and you're still doing fine. that you have done fine without him, and that you can and will continue to do so.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

imagine your horror when you realise you've been posted the same university as pepe. same campus too.

your father is ecstatic. he immediately wants to call up pepe's dad and tell him the news but you beg him not to, tears in your eyes. you can't risk looking like a hopeless and dependent little puppy even before the school term has started.

before the first day of uni, you've already studied the campus map well enough to plan routes that avoid going near the school of engineering, just so you can avoid pepe. you're almost 100% confident that you'll be able to hide from him for his remaining two years in uni. plus, you definitely look different from the way you did two years ago, so you technically have an extra layer of protection.

except you have an orientation camp the very first week of uni, and you're just that lucky enough to have a familiar face as one of your orientation group leaders.

he recognises you instantly. how could he not?

you half expect him to ignore you, or at least, pretend not to know you. but to your surprise, he smiles. in fact, he beams at you, and he waves before jogging over to sit next to you. your mouth is slightly agape, and you can't tell if this is some kind of cruel joke that he's playing on you right now.

"how have you been? you're lucky to be here today. the weather isn't usually this nice, and i know you get chilly easily." he's still smiling while speaking to you, and he's just acting so... normal, but you?

you feel like smacking him. you left each other on a sour note two years ago, after being friends for more than a decade, and he chooses to talk about the weather, of all things.

but you just put on a smile and act the same.

arguing with a best friend is one thing, having to make small talk about mundane, boring, topics with a friend you've known for years and then forgotten is another. you can't figure out if talking to him is helping heal your heart or slowly shattering it into more tiny little pieces.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

the first few weeks of uni fly by, and you don't end up using any of your pre-planned routes.

in fact, you end up meeting pepe almost every day before you your lessons. for breakfast, or brunch, or lunch... and maybe even dinner, once both your classes are done.

you can’t read him that well, and you wonder if this is only weird for you. but you’re not one to complain. you’re not one to take this for granted either.

you’ve spent years of your life missing summer and pepe, and then you spent two more years missing him without even speaking to him at all. no, you’re definitely not taking this for granted.

you learn that he's playing soccer for a kids charity event that happens yearly, that he's studying mechanical engineering (which doesn't surprise you at all, not really), and that he's broken up with his girlfriend, because of different goals in life or something. you stop yourself from thinking too hard about whether or not the both of you have compatible life goals upon hearing the last part.

he’s still sweet to you.

maybe even more so now that he can actually look out for you. he always gives you his jacket when you’re cold, offers to help you run your errands on busy days, and he even helps you get special oppourtunities thanks to his friends and connections. and when you’re sick, he gives you updates for classwork even though he’s not in the same classes as you, bringing you heat packs and checking up on you daily with warm teas and essential balms.

it's all so lovely that you could almost cry.

except he’s always just a little too stiff around you. too hesitant to touch, too close for distance.

he'll bring you heat packs on your period, and allow you to lean on his stronger frame when the cramps get too bad, but he never gets close enough to cuddle. and when either of you stay over for too long while studying together, he always offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch, but he never allows himself to lie in the same bed as you.

it's all so polite but so frustrating, and you're even more upset because you have absolutely no right to feel that way. he's your best friend, and he has been for years. he's not someone you could ever have the priviledge of dating, and he deserves a friend he can count on, not someone who's helplessly unable to stop their one-sided longing for him.

and so you let another six months slip away as you spend more time with pepe in your head than physically, while he continues keeping a distance from you, leaving you wondering why.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

suddenly it's feburary, and pepe's been so busy with schoolwork and training for the upcoming charity match that you just don't see him that much anymore. you're pulled back into that aching feeling of loneliness, and busying yourself with your own schoolwork and friends doesn't seem to help.

i can't risk doing badly this semester, he says. this is the one that counts. i’ll have to find myself a good internship for portfolio— maybe with formula one, he says. you nod. you’d be proud of him regardless of what he did anyway.

you end up following him to the gym in the early hours of the morning just to hang out with him, even if hanging out now means you just watch him get through his workout routine while you sit next to him and sort out your schedule.

his friends refer to you as pepe's girlfriend now, and you stopped correcting them when you realised that pepe didn't seem to care. you can't blame them anyway, you're together almost all the time. you're always waiting for him at his apartment after classes, usually in an oversized t-shirt or hoodie of his, and he even wakes up early just to bring you breakfast before class.

the domesticity of it all makes you ache, but you can't even bring yourself to imagine what if would be like if your relationship was actually as desired.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

pepe visits you the night before the charity match.

he brings you a jersey. his jersey, and he shyly asks if you'd be interested in showing up to watch him the next day. you almost scream with joy, but you control yourself, accepting it gracefully and holding the jersey gently and close to your chest.

you whisper a string of thank yous, careful not to wake your roommate up, and all pepe does is pull you in for a hug. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and all you can do is press yourself closer to him, taking in the scent of clean laundry and his cologne.

before he leaves, he flashes you a teasing smile, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he asks, "am i going to have to say it, or will you?"

you're caught off guard by his comment, and you just tilt your head in confusion, unsure what he's talking about. but he doesn't explain further. he just chuckles, gently shakes your shoulder, and leaves.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊‧ ₊

you show up to pepe's match half an hour before it starts, just so you can get a good view of the match. the venue is already half full, and you're just grateful to have gotten front row seats.

you act as casual as you can, pretending that your heart isn't racing while you're wearing his soft jersey, with the number 23 boldly printed onto the back. when your friend teases you about the way your cheeks seem to be permenantly pink, you gently slap her arm and tell her to be quiet in a weak attempt to save your face, which only results in a laughing fit from her.

the match is mostly a blur, but both teams are very evenly matched, and there's suddenly only 4 minutes left to the end of the game and both teams are stuck in a tie.

you're not sure when your focus zoned in on pepe. it could've been since the very start of the match, but you somehow catch that split second when the ball is passed over to him, and his expression changes from one of neutrality to determination. you watch as he expertly drabbles the ball between player to player, rushing to get close enough to the goalpost to shoot before the end of the match.

you're sure that everyone in the venue held their breath at the exact same moment you did, and that time must've stilled when pepe slid and kicked the ball into the goal, just 30s before the end of the match.

the whole venue erupts into cheers. it's defeaning, but all you can think of is how proud you are of him in this moment.

you don't take your eyes off him for even a second, and when the referee finally signals the end of the match, he looks at you too.

he’s all sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead, face flushed.

he's sipping from his bottle, standing directly in front of you, having run straight to you after the match.

your boy.

there's a wicked grin on his face, and you can feel the heat rise up to your face as you take in all of him in awe.

everyone’s staring, you think, but you know he doesn’t care, so why should you?

you barely allow yourself time to hesitate, but he's quicker.

he kisses you.

his mouth is warm and soft, and yet there's a certain pressure and intensity with which he kisses you that makes you think that he probably wanted this as much as you did, maybe more.

and when you both finally break apart for air, you realise that all the cheering is now directed at the both of you, and you can't help but start laughing shyly. he smiles at that, and presses a quick kiss to your temple before rushing off for a debrief, with promises to talk later.

you don't even care that your time together has been cut short, because all you can think about now is how grateful you are that you won't have to return him this jersey.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ ✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊

© lilioopdf 2024 – please do not plagarise, repost, or translate any of my work on this or other platforms

thank you for reading this far!! stay hydrated and safe always!! 💗💗

taglist: @oscnorris/@httpiastri (the one and only person on my taglist 💕💕 also i realised i forgot to ask you which account you wanted me to tag so i’m just doing 2/3 :p)

[pneumostelos]

la mancanza dellarte

Commedia della mancanza dell'arte

A França ameaça "causar o colapso da economia russa".

Paris declarou que 488 oligarcas russas já estão sob sanções européias

Os Oligarcas coitados irão comprar foie gras chinês? Passar férias idem? Ou Venezuela, Cuba... Brie Russo já existe, por exemplo. E a Itália, vai proibir tb?

Traduzindo. Acham que os oligarcas, ricos e crasse méhdja são reféns deles, Europeus Ocidentais. Financeiramente. E...?

As guerras dentro das guerras inclui, há mais de uma década, a disputa para ser a lavanderia de evasão de divisas do mundo. O que inclui os EUA com pelo menos dois núcleos de lavagem de dinheiro. Um na Costa Leste, e outro na Costa Oeste deles. Ambos com mais de um século existência. Sem contar outros, mais discretos ou especializados.

A Ucrânia quer que sua dívida externa seja anulada. O país deve mais de 57 bilhões de dólares a organizações financeiras internacionais

Milhares de turistas russos encalhados após proibições de vôos

Os artistas foram removidos das organizações artísticas alemãs por causa dos laços de Putin

Agências de viagem estão se esforçando para encontrar rotas alternativas

Padrão FIFA

E depois continuam com uma lista que, no esporte, atinge o Brasil via CBF enquanto organismo internacional que se pressupõe supranacional. Com regras que não se submetem ao Judiciário e à Justiça nacionais. Se sobrepondo à soberania destes.

Padrão FIFA. Padrão COI. Qual o visto em Olimpíada e Copa recentes no Brasil, com ampla e abjeta sujeição de várias autoridades e poddres, digo, poderes. Em alguns incidentes notórios que chegaram a reescrever parte da Constituição, em ato de escandaloso de lesa-soberania. O pré-golpe claro e explícito, à vista de todos.

Shell, Total, se retiram de parcerias russas

Os gigantes da energia cortam os laços por causa da guerra na Ucrânia

E isso é ruim? Oxalá fizessem o mesmo aqui.

Serviu para isso, pelo menos?

A Rússia sediará o primeiro Congresso Internacional Antifascista.

Moscou planeja evento para unir esforços globais para combater o fascismo depois de lançar a ofensiva em parte para "desnazificar" a Ucrânia

Imagine se vira norma e hábito. Ou política dirigente.

Sugiro ainda que aproveitem para formar logo um time de futebol. Ou vários e façam uma "copinha" deles, interna. Só para... animar. Isso.

Pepe Escobar - @RealPepeEscobar

Passado por um dissidente de alto nível do Estado profundo:

"A Rússia tem tudo o que precisa para ser auto-suficiente e não precisa da SWIFT". É o CHIPS que é significativo - a câmara de compensação bancária internacional".

Se a Rússia não for paga, eles fecham as exportações de gás natural e petróleo. *Poderiam exigir ouro*".

- 27 de fev -

Confirmado e reconfirmado. 9 laboratórios americanos de armas biológicas subterrâneas na Ucrânia foram DESTROÇADOS por mísseis Iskander. Nenhuma confirmação sobre o status de outros 4 laboratórios. A Rússia pediu diplomaticamente aos americanos - durante anos. Agora fale com o Sr. Iskander.

Scholz disse "não vemos isto na Europa há 75 anos".

Mentiroso. A OTAN bombardeou a Iugoslávia por 78 dias. Mais de 1.700 civis morreram - incluindo 400 crianças - e cerca de 10.000 ficaram gravemente feridos. A OTAN usou urânio empobrecido - assim como o UkroNazis agora usando fósforo branco.

. "ISTO?" Que "isto"?

Traduzido com a versão gratuita do tradutor - www.DeepL.com/Translator

[alfonsodelforno]

A metà del cammino del CBF, mi merito una fetta di ricotta e pistacchio di Alfonso Pepe per colazione! . . . #buongiorno #colazione #goodmorning #breakfast #alfonsopepe #ricottaepistacchio #campaniabeerfest19 #cbf19 #piacevolezza #foodlove #fooddiary #foodshare #foodoftheday #instafood #foodie #foodporn #foodlover #foodgram #recipe #foodblog #tasty #foodpic #food #foodstagram #yummy #instagood #foodies #realfood #foodblogger (presso Pepe Mastro Dolciere) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0vSMsXFcxG/?igshid=oy3ngiifncqg

[inovaniteroi]

Eles poderiam defender o Brasil, mas jogarão por Espanha e Rússia

O duelo entre Espanha e Rússia tem um significado maior a seleção do que simplesmente um dos jogos das oitavas de final da Copa do Mundo. A partida contará com Mário Fernandes e Diego Costa, dois atletas que recusaram a seleção brasileira, e posteriormente foram jogar pelas seleções europeias, que se enfrentarão neste domingo, às 11h, no Estádio Luzhniki, em Moscou.

Revelado pelo Grêmio em 2009, Mario Fernandes jogou de zagueiro, mas se destacou atuando na lateral direita. Em 2011, o jogador chegou a ser convocado para um amistoso contra a Argentina, mas alegou “problemas pessoais” para recusar o chamado do então técnico Mano Menezes.

Tudo sobre a Copa do Mundo da Rússia.

Por mais que o “não” tenha o afastado da seleção, o jogador voltou a ser chamado por Dunga em 2014 e até participou de um amistoso em outubro, quando o Brasil goleou o Japão por 4 a 0. Entretanto, não jogar em um dos grandes centros do futebol tiraram o jogador do CSKA do radar da seleção novamente.

Um mês antes de Tite fazer sua primeira convocação como técnico do Brasil, em julho de 2016, Mario Fernandes ganhou do próprio presidente Vladimir Putin a cidadania para atuar pela Rússia. Sem nunca mais ter sido lembrado pelo Brasil, o jogador foi convocado para atuar pela seleção local em março de 2017. Atualmente ele é titular e vem sendo um dos principais destaques da equipe de Stanlislav Cherchesov.

Brasil ou Espanha?

O caso de Diego Costa foi um pouco diferente do lateral russo. Chamado para jogar pelo Brasil em amistosos contra Itália e Rússia, em março de 2013, o atacante passou a ser preterido nas listas de Luiz Felipe Scolari para Fred, Jô e Alexandre Pato, apesar dos gols e atuações de destaque pelo Atlético de Madrid. A falta de oportunidades na seleção canarinho e o convite do técnico Vicente Del Bosque fez com que Diego Costa optasse por defender a Espanha, pelo sonho de jogar a Copa do Mundo de 2014.

As críticas de torcedores e do próprio Felipão, que o acusou de dar “as costas para o sonho de milhões”, fez o jogador dar sua versão em 30 de outubro de 2013, um dia depois de optar por defender a seleção europeia.

“Quero que eles entendam que em nenhum momento eu fiz uma recusa ao Brasil. Simplesmente porque aqui me sinto valorizado. Foi uma decisão muito pensada, mas não foi uma renúncia. Tenho familiares no Brasil, onde nasci e vivi. Espero que as pessoas entendam e respeitem”, disse, em comunicado para o site do Atlético de Madrid.

NÃO É SÓ DIEGO COSTA

Além de Diego Costa, a Espanha também possui amigos de infância com DNA brasileiro e que inclusive se conheceram nas categorias de base do Flamengo. Mesmo nascido na Itália, onde o pai Mazinho jogava, Thiago Alcântara, passou parte da infância no Rio de Janeiro, mas deixou o clube rubro-negro em 2005 para rumar ao Barcelona.

O caminho foi semelhante ao de Rodrigo, que jogou com Thiago na gávea em 2002. Nascido no Rio de Janeiro, o atacante do Valencia chamou atenção no Real Madrid B, e assim como o meia do Bayern de Munique, não cogitou atuar pelo Brasil.

“Tive chance de jogar pelo Brasil, mas nunca pensei nisso. Estou na Espanha desde os três anos, aprendi a ler, me desenvolvi e sou quem sou pela Espanha”, disse Thiago, em 2011, quando foi convocado pela primeira vez à seleção espanhola.

OLHO NA BASE DA EUROPA

A perda dos talentosos atletas para a Espanha, assim como Deco e Pepe para Portugal em anos anteriores, fez com que a CBF, liderada pelo então coordenador Alexandre Gallo, passasse a observar melhor jogadores com cidadania brasileira que atuassem em clubes europeus.

Irmão caçula de Thiago, Rafinha Alcântara chegou a jogar pela seleção sub-19 da Espanha, mas a partir de 2013 começou a participar as partidas das categorias de base do Brasil. Campeão olímpico em 2016, o meia fez apenas dois jogos pela seleção profissional em 2015, mas perdeu espaço pelo excesso de lesões com que teve de lidar nos últimos anos. Com informações da Folhapress.

Fonte: Noticias ao Minuto

O post Eles poderiam defender o Brasil, mas jogarão por Espanha e Rússia apareceu primeiro em Portal Niterói.

from Portal Niterói https://ift.tt/2z1rErk

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2KyCY2E

[esportenomundo]

Palmeiras x Santos: Veron e Kaio Jorge buscam Libertadores após título mundial juntos na Seleção

Dupla brilhou na conquista da Copa do Mundo Sub-17, em 2019, e se reencontra em final A final da Libertadores, neste sábado, no Maracanã, entre Palmeiras e Santos, marcará o reencontro de dois jovens que estarão em lados opostos em busca do título da América, mas que juntos já conquistaram o mundo. São os atacantes Gabriel Veron, de 18 anos, e Kaio Jorge, de 19. Em 2019, eles venceram a Copa do Mundo Sub-17 com a seleção brasileira e agora estarão frente a frente na decisão. Mais notícias da Libertadores: + Palmeiras e Santos têm novo capítulo em rivalidade + Evair e Pepe levarão taça ao gramado do Maracanã + Saiba como Jesualdo influenciou os dois clubes Gabriel Veron e Kaio Jorge na seleção brasileira sub-17 Getty Images Os dois foram os maiores destaques do Brasil naquela conquista. Kaio Jorge foi o artilheiro da equipe no Mundial, com cinco gols, enquanto Gabriel Veron balançou as redes três vezes e foi eleito o melhor jogador da competição. A dupla funcionou perfeitamente no ataque. Aquele torneio, inclusive, serviu como um cartão de visitas dos dois para os torcedores dos seus times. Kaio Jorge até já havia sido promovido ao profissional, mas após o título os pedidos dos torcedores por mais oportunidades ao garoto no Santos se intensificaram. O mesmo aconteceu com Veron, no rival. E foi justamente na atual temporada que os dois se firmaram e se tornaram peças fundamentais em Santos e Palmeiras. Na campanha na Libertadores, não foi diferente. Gabriel Veron, com Kaio Jorge ao fundo, no Mundial Sub-17 Alexandre Loureiro/ CBF Principalmente Kaio Jorge, que é o artilheiro do Santos na competição, com cinco gols marcados, além das ótimas atuações. No início, ainda no banco de reservas, lidou bem com a desconfiança de torcedores até assumir a titularidade e mostrar seu potencial. Já Gabriel Veron balançou as redes três vezes e foi fundamental na campanha do Palmeiras até chegar à decisão – ele perdeu espaço na semifinal por conta de lesões musculares. Além das trajetórias parecidas e coincidências, os dois também possuem multas rescisórias similares, com valores altíssimos. Enquanto a de Veron é de 60 milhões de euros (cerca de R$ 390 milhões), a do santista é de 50 milhões de euros (cerca de R$ 325 milhões). Ambos têm sido observados por grandes clubes europeus. Kaio Jorge comemora gol ao lado de Veron durante o Mundial Alexandre Loureiro/ CBF A tendência é de que o palmeirense comece a partida no banco de reservas. Já Kaio Jorge tem presença confirmada no time titular do Peixe. Após o título mundial brilhando juntos, agora Gabriel Veron e Kaio Jorge estarão em lados opostos na luta pela conquista da América. Dessa vez, só um deles poderá comemorar.

The post Palmeiras x Santos: Veron e Kaio Jorge buscam Libertadores após título mundial juntos na Seleção first appeared on Esporte no Mundo. from WordPress https://ift.tt/39mbuIX via IFTTT