While American football is very structured and linear and static

Hear the words of Gabriel Luna, who, gazing upon the games of men, spoke with poetic vision: “While American football is very structured and linear and static – where everyone lines up, and there's a burst, and it happens – soccer is like the cosmos. It's like constellations. It's bodies moving in space. It's a very spherical game.” These words are not merely about sport, but about the nature of life itself. For Luna draws a contrast between order and chaos, between the rigid lines of one game and the flowing constellations of another. He shows us that within movement lies mystery, and within mystery, beauty.

For what is football in his telling but the symbol of structure—linear, segmented, divided into bursts of action and pauses of stillness? It is the game of discipline, of lines drawn, of forces colliding head-on. And what is soccer but the symbol of the infinite, the flowing dance of stars across the night sky? Players do not simply stand and charge; they orbit, intersect, diverge, and return again. Their movements form constellations upon the green field, as planets circle and comets arc. It is not a game of lines, but of circles; not a game of static bursts, but of eternal motion.

History itself bears witness to this contrast. Think of the ancient Greeks, who saw the heavens as a great game of harmony, with stars and planets moving according to the music of the spheres. They believed that life itself mirrored this cosmic order, that human existence was not a series of disconnected bursts, but a flowing pattern of interwoven destinies. In Luna’s vision, soccer becomes this cosmic dance: a symbol of unity, rhythm, and motion without end. To watch the ball move is to watch the orbit of a star, and to see the players shift is to glimpse the eternal ballet of galaxies.

Consider also the tale of Pelé, the Brazilian master who played as though the universe itself had taught him. He did not move in straight lines but flowed like water, weaving through defenders as though guided by invisible constellations. His genius was not in raw strength but in rhythm, in timing, in the subtle harmony of space and motion. Pelé embodied Luna’s vision of soccer as cosmos—not a battle of lines, but a dance of stars. Through him, millions saw not only a sport, but a reflection of creation itself.

Luna’s words also remind us that life itself contains both these elements. At times, we must be structured, disciplined, linear—setting goals, marking lines, building order. Yet at other times, we must embrace the spherical, the flowing, the unstructured dance of opportunity and chance. Too much rigidity suffocates the soul; too much chaos dissolves it. The wise learn when to play life like football, and when to play it like soccer—when to hold the line, and when to dance among the stars.

The lesson, O listener, is this: do not confine your vision to the rigid and the linear. Learn to see the constellations in the movement of people, in the flow of events, in the interconnectedness of all things. Train yourself not only to charge forward, but to glide, to pivot, to orbit. For in life, as in soccer, success often comes not from raw force, but from rhythm, timing, and the ability to see patterns invisible to others.

And in your own days, practice this wisdom: structure your life with discipline, but leave space for the cosmic dance. Work hard, but also flow with opportunity. Plan your steps, but also trust the patterns that emerge beyond your control. See yourself not as a lone warrior on a line of scrimmage, but as a star among stars, part of a vast and spherical cosmos. In doing so, you will not only succeed, but live with wonder.

So let Luna’s words echo across your heart: “Soccer is like the cosmos. It’s like constellations. It’s bodies moving in space.” Remember them when you watch the stars, when you walk among people, when you chart your own path. For life is not only lines and bursts—it is also the eternal dance, the flowing constellation of souls, each shining in their turn, each moving in the great, spherical game of existence.