My treason was tested. Argentina contra Brazil. The final before the final. Afterward, my match notes were all scribbles about Dani Alves.
How at 36, is this man running, harrying, sombrero-ing, and no look passing Brazil into Copa America glory?
What type of protein shakes is he drinking?
What type of ice bath does he run?
Is cross-fit still a thing?
Even as he’s aged, Alves hasn’t restructured his game much. He plays less matches per season, but he’s still the zip-line fullback playing on the wire.
His few appearances last year in PSG’s midfield wasn’t an attempt to move away from the demands of a modern right-back. It was about being team player, because Tuchel’s midfield hard drive was empty.
I’ve learned it’s not wise to judge a man by his instagram account. Dani is no James Milner. But he must be doing push-ups and eating his spinach everyday.
You don’t win 40 trophies without doing so.
Floodlights and Goalposts 