Legend has it that Saint Mames He was a child savagely tortured, just like his parents, for refusing to abjure the Christian faith. And that he amazed his own captors when he managed to tame the lions that, in theory, had to devour him. This episode is one of the more than 7,000 that make up the Roman martyrology, that is, the catalog of saints and martyrs that the Catholic Church spreads among its followers. Many of them are false, of course, they are made up stories, but they serve to keep that greased belief in the paranormal that we know as faith. Nothing to object to as long as it is not intended to impose this vital creed on those of us who do not like religious things. In any case, I prefer to cling to more tangible things, like music.
But it turns out that a few days ago I had the enormous fortune to witness something very similar to a miracle: the transformation of the cathedral of football into a gigantic temple of rock; Although honestly, it wasn’t just that. Because the concert by Fito Cabrales and his Fitipaldis before 45,000 people it symbolized many things. That you can be a prophet in your land; that generosity on stage looks much more than pride; that it is not incompatible to have become an idol of the masses to act as a good person; that there is an enormous desire to send the restrictions of the pandemic completely to hell; and, above all, above all, that universal complicity of feelings that music can generate, just like art, cinema, literature… that is, culture is the best recipe to ward off flies from our daily fights. And on top of that, the success of the television audience denied that bullshit that someone invented that viewers flee from the small screen when live music plays. In short, there have been and will be more concerts, but on the night of San Mamés something special was in the air. Let’s see if it’s going to be true about the boy and the lions…