BOOKS | 06/17/2024 | 08:14
by Gian Paolo Porreca
If you are missing something, a day always too long to finish today.
If you love the sport of the Cyclist and the writing of the Poetas if both of them with a Doctor on guard at their side were the only figures in the world worth talking to and accompanying.
If you are missing someone who doesn’t tell you about Ibrahimovic or Amadeus, Ferragnez or Geolier on a full page, but it revives you and restarts your blond hair that has become gray with the names of Desiree Keteleer and Antonino Catalano…
If to you, made cold today by life or by a hierarchy of values that you no longer tolerateand you are no longer plausible as blues skeptics…
If you lack the desire for an evening that never ends, like a book with too few pages compared to the thirst for unintended love that you now suffer, Coppi of ’47 and Bahamontes of ’58, you already submerged by the festivities at every kick…
If you lack the address of a sentimental retreat other than the one given out with doubloons by the award-winning Barbieri, Borghese and Cannavacciuolo company…
To those of you who know why in 1982 Bruno Raschi gave up the deputy editorship of the Gazzettato be able to write again without cowardice about cycling, and not about the World Cup…
To all of you who sing about the sport of cyclingand not betrayed and not usurped by those who do not know their only est/ethical paradigm, we recommend without any fear to read ‘Alfonso Gatto – The poet on a bicycle’ by Massimo Cerulo, published by Ortothes, for the Il Sillabario series, recently presented with the sociologist Alfonso Amendola, in Naples Città del Libro.
Gatto’s chronicles of the ’47 Giro, and those of the ’58 Tour and the ’59 Giro, filmed here with infinite grace, they will make you understand – for an extreme life choice – of what harmony is it worth to have experienced a heartbeat. And read, out of an exquisite need to reread it, one more page.
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