Any England fan of a certain, nostalgic age will tell you straight up : soccer is not what it used to be. Ah, you should have seen in it in the 60's, how the pitch was systematically transformed into a battlefield. Video assistance was science fiction, players didn't wear shin guards and goalkeepers stopped shots with their bare hands, no gloves... It was a happy time for defenders. They were ordered to hit the ball hard, to try to aim at the ball first when tackling, but if the spike accidentally hit the dribbler, no one complained... In this particular exercise, Peter Storey was one of the greatest in England. Nicknamed the Hatchet Man, or "the bastard of bastards", the footballer never ceased to play with the limits or the rules, both on and off the field...

It is January 6th, 1994, at the Tony Kent Center in Dennis, Massachusetts. At the end of the day, skater Nancy Kerrigan completes her training session with a loop jump, then leaves the ice for dry land. She covers her blades with slippers, and steps behind the backstage curtain on the tips of her skates. On her way to the locker room, she sees a man coming towards her from the other end of the deserted corridor. As he reaches her, he wordlessly deploys a telescopic baton and violently hits her in the leg...

On the night of July 18th 2010, the ringing of a telephone breaks a brief and peaceful interlude at the 911 call center in Germantown, a suburb of Memphis, Tennessee. An employee swallows the last drops of her coffee and picks up the phone: she barely has time to speak when a shot rings out in her headset, soon followed by others. Silence falls again, the operator timidly signifies her presence for the second time and by way of answer, new detonations hit her eardrums. The deluge resumes and, after a last lull, the communication is abruptly cut...

On August 4th 2012, a shot sounds in the stadium, signaling the start of the second semi-final of the men's 400 meter race at the London Summer Olympics. Under the cheers of the crowd, eight athletes take off in a flash and among them, the runner from South Africa attracts the spotlight. Nothing seems to distinguish him from his adversaries, until the camera switches to a wide shot and reveals two carbon blades pounding the track instead of feet. Oscar Pistorius is making history: in his discipline, he is the first amputee athlete to participate in an Olympic race.

In early summer 2010, the soccer nation is in mourning. Eliminated by the Netherlands in the quarter-finals of the World Cup, Brazil’s national team returns home empty-handed and is about to go on a grim vacation. The media cannot be counted on to smooth things over: the Seleção's mediocre performance during the competition is all over the front pages. The journalists and fans don’t digest failure easily... And instead of a miracle, it’s rather a sordid tragedy that will finally give some respite to the defeated players. There’s nothing like sports or blood, or both at once, to distract the media’s attention...

On the morning of June 17th 1994, 95 million Americans were glued to their televisions. Any channel would salivate at such Super-Bowl worthy ratings. An exceptional audience, for an exceptional show : from the sky, cameramen in helicopters film the deserted freeway ramps of Los Angeles, where only a white Ford Bronco crisscrosses the asphalt... Holding the steering wheel in one hand, a gun in the other, with a police officer's voice blaring through a megaphone behind his back, telling him to stop, to think of all those who love him, of all the children who admire him, not to let them down... It must be said that the man is a living legend: 20 years earlier, he was the fastest running back in the world.

The starry night of May 16th 1978 was reflected in the calm water of Lake Geneva, Switzerland. On the shore near the town of Noville, policemen were searching, stirring up the earth, pulling apart the cobs in a cornfield lit by a gibbous moon. Occasionally, one of their metal detectors goes off, and everyone holds their breath, but no : another old tin can. Pure beef ravioli, of course, but that won't make the investigators happy tonight. They were looking for something else, but what ? Gold ? The Holy Grail ? Pandora's box ? Nothing of the sort... They were looking for a coffin, and not just any coffin : that of one of the greatest filmmakers in history....

The starry night of May 16th 1978 was reflected in the calm water of Lake Geneva, Switzerland. On the shore near the town of Noville, policemen were searching, stirring up the earth, pulling apart the cobs in a cornfield lit by a gibbous moon. Occasionally, one of their metal detectors goes off, and everyone holds their breath, but no : another old tin can. Pure beef ravioli, of course, but that won't make the investigators happy tonight. They were looking for something else, but what ? Gold ? The Holy Grail ? Pandora's box ? Nothing of the sort... They were looking for a coffin, and not just any coffin : that of one of the greatest filmmakers in history....