Andrea Pirlo (born 19 May 1979) is an Italian footballer.
Born: May 19th, 1979
Categories: Football (soccer) players, Italians, Living people, Articles with bare URLs
Quotes: 47 sourced quotes total (includes 30 about)
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Ibid [p. 88]
After the wheel, the PlayStation is the best invention of all time.
Pirlo is a silent leader. He speaks with his feet.
I strike dead balls alla Pirlo. Each shot bears my name and they're all my children.
A ticking timebomb of a madman
He says he's slept with 700 women in his time, but he doesn't get picked for Italy any more. Deep down, can he really be happy?
I like to think of myself as a director, on the pitch and in life
That jackass of a dancer who took the mickey out of us by swaying about on his line
If God exists, there's no way he's French.
A Rolex with Swatch batteries. Utterly refined, extremely long lasting.
Feeling invincible is the first step on the path to the point of no return.
His words assault you. They crash through the doors of your mind, often quite violently, and settle deep within you.
Being a philosopher is to think, seek wisdom and have principles that guide and influence what you do. It's to give meaning to things, find your way in the world, believe that in the end, in every instance, good will overcome evil even if there's a bit of suffering along the way.
Pirlo is just class!
He's theatrical and knows exactly what he wants.
A communist co-op at the heart of a capitalist state.
He must have been the first nuclear-powered South Korean in history
Tears are a demonstration of who you are; an undeniable truth.
To pass the ball to Pirlo is to hide it in a safe.
In this life, you're either a man or an actor, there's nothing in between.
It's an illness to always want more money when you've already got infinite riches.
Is he best player of his generation? Not quite, but he is the most important.
Sometimes a pinch of sadism is the ingredient that makes victory taste that little bit sweeter.
When you're in love, it's time you need. When the feeling's gone, having an excuse can help.
The best ideas come about in moments of total concentration, a state you can reach when shitting.
Passing judgement on others is always a lot of fun. Looking inwards is that little bit more difficult.
He's a special kind of medicine, an antidote to the potentially lethal poison of racists you find in Italian grounds.
For me, it's always better to keep chasing down the guy in front and maybe finish second, rather than stopping altogether.
Swearing's my release, and the one weapon I have to defend myself against destiny when it elects to strike without pity.
Many individuals make a team, just as many dreams make a triumph. And if you're really lucky, they make history as well.
After a while, I began to suspect that it wasn't Mark David Chapman who killed John Lennon. It had been one of the Milan directors.
I perceive the game in a different way. It's a question of viewpoints, of having a wide field of vision. Being able to see the bigger picture.
Carlo was like a father and a teacher for me, a kind, friendly man who knew how to make things fun...A big guy with a big personality.
He was like an orchestra conductor who'd been assembled upside down, with the baton held by his feet instead of his hands...somebody at Ikea was having a good laugh the day they put him together.
The perfect moment to let your hair down is usually after a triumph, because defeats deserve a different kind of reaction...When you lose, it's all about thinking and reflecting. When you win, burping takes priority.
You're forced to tell the media a lot of crap; provided, of course, that they manage to ask you the right question...You read a dull, lifeless script written by press officers with no talent or creative spark.
A player of his level and ability, not to mention that he was free, I think was the signing of the century. [On Sunday] I thought God exists because it's truly embarrassing just how good he is.
I don't feel pressure. I don't give a toss about it. I spent the afternoon of Sunday, July 9, 2006 in Berlin sleeping and playing the PlayStation. In the evening, I went out and won the World Cup.
Simply put, he crapped. Crapped a hell of a lot. This isn't a bad thing in itself, but the fact he'd do it at the ground, in our dressing room, just before the game, got on our nerves somewhat.
Big name collector cards sell season tickets, but it's the glue they have behind them that wins games. The defence is the most important part of the team: in military terms, success starts in the zone behind the lines.
Being part of a team that belongs to everyone makes me feel good and at peace with myself. A lot of the time, it's better than sex: it lasts longer and if it all falls flat, it can't just be your fault.
He's either playing or he's back at camp. He doesn't do crazy joy, isn't interested in letting his concentration slide. He just can't bear the thought of having left a stone unturned in the quest to win a game. He's also superstitious to a pretty disgusting degree.
If I look in the mirror when I get up, or before going to bed a night, i see a man of average ugliness...But I also see a man who's completely happy with the figure staring back at him. Who's proud of every single second of his past.
Being first on the spot, kicking off that torture in the biggest, most incredible game that a player can play or imagine...that's not necessarily good news. It means that they think you're the best, but it also means that if you miss, you're first on the list of dickheads.
I've got a fair few kilometres under my belt, but it's the short distances that wear me out. They're tests of your mental stamina, rather than your speed. For Neil Armstrong, it was walking on the surface of the moon and, in my case, the ultra-green pitch of the Olympiastadion.
I'm a bit of a wandering gypsy on the pitch. A midfielder constantly on the lookout for an unspoilt corner where I can move freely just for a moment...A space where I can continue to profess my creed: take the ball, give it to a team-mate, team-mate scores. It's called an assist, and it's my way of spreading happiness.
I thought about quitting after Istanbul because nothing made sense any more...I no longer felt like a man. All of a sudden, football had become the least important thing, precisely because it was the most important: a very painful contradiction. I didn't dare look in the mirror in case my reflection spat back at me. The only possible solution I could think of was to retire.