Transcript · Spanish → English
Karim Adeyemi's Performance Analysis
Karim gets to the bench and Christensen asks him where he thinks he's going, sitting
there. Adeyemi buys it, gets up and leaves.
To the other end, accompanied by his near-namesake, Abdelkarim.
Though he interacts more with this staff member, covering his mouth,
mind you.
Who knows why they might have advised him to hide.
He even covers his mouth with Benjamin Hügel, as if we could read lips here in
German.
It’s hypnotic to watch him warm up,
so we almost prefer watching him on the touchline to having him come onto the pitch.
As his introduction is delayed, Karim grows impatient.
To ease the tension, he fist-bumps and winks at Marc, and massages Dani’s trapezius.
Dani.
Here comes Karim, with a Ballon d’Or name, Cruyff’s number
and Marcelo’s or Nduku’s hairstyle, to name just a couple.
He likes to receive the ball out wide, wind up for the shot and
gesturing when he's surprised.
It bothers him when an opponent, while pressing, fails to keep the required distance at a throw-in.
When he presses, what invades his personal space is a
pigeon.
Without meaning to, he brushes it with his hand and looks up to
see what happened.
Don't worry. Just as Fermín blows a kiss to the
Ciutat stands,
we discover that the pigeon is still safe and sound.
Like this man, who says: "Look at that pigeon."
Angolia concedes, Adeyemi is surprised, as before.
Although he doesn't seem to tense up in the slightest, because shortly afterward, with all the
coolness in the world, he pulls off a scorpion kick,
just like that, as if it were nothing.
Levante score again, and Hansi gets really nervous.
But Karim, not Karim, friends.
What Karim does is grab the ball and pull off a move
Maradona-esque move that brings the calm Barcelona needed.
Ladies and gentlemen, here is Karim Adeyemi,
An unflappable guy.
End of transcript · 319 words · machine translated
Original transcript (Spanish)
Karim llega al banquillo y Christensen le dice que dónde se cree que va sentándose ahí. Adeyemi se lo cree, se levanta y se va. A la otra punta, acompañado de su medio tocayo, Abdelkarim. Aunque va a interactuar más con este miembro del staff, tapándose la boca, eso sí.
A saber por qué le habrán recomendado ocultarse. Hasta con Benjamin Hügel se tapa, como si aquí supiéramos leer labios en alemán. Resulta hipnótico verle calentar, por lo que casi preferimos verle en la banda antes que entrar al campo.
Como su entrada se demora, Karim se impacienta. Para destensar, choca y guiña a Marc, masajea el trapecio a Dani. Allá va Karim, nombre de Balón de Oro, dorsal de Cruyff y peinado de Marcelo o de Nduku, sin ir más lejos.
Le gusta recibir abierto, cargar el disparo y gesticular cuando se asombra. Le molesta que el rival, presionando, incumpla la distancia en un saque. En una presión suya, quien invade su espacio vital es una paloma.
Sin querer, la roza con la mano y mira para arriba a ver qué ha pasado. Tranquilidad. Justo cuando Fermín tira un beso a la grada del Ciutat, descubrimos que la paloma sigue sana y salva.
Al igual que este señor, que dice: "Mira la paloma esa". Encaja Angolia, Adeyemi se asombra, como antes. Aunque no parece tensarse en lo más mínimo, porque poco después, con toda la sangre fría del mundo, se saca un remate de escorpión, así, como el que no quiere la cosa.
Vuelve a marcar el Levante y Hansi se pone realmente nervioso. Pero Karim, Karim no, amigos. Karim lo que hace es pillar el balón y marcarse una jugada maradoniana que acaba dando la calma que necesitaba el Barcelona. Señoras y señores, aquí está Karim Adeyemi,
un tipo inalterable.
