“When I was a child, I came home from playing soccer, Mom was always laughing or was happy. But one day I came and she was crying. Then I saw my brother Roberto. He immediately hugged me and led me to the bathroom so we could be alone. There he told me something that he did not understand at the time: 'There was an accident and DAD JUST DIED.'
That
didn't make sense. What does this mean? When will he come home? How can it be
that Dad is gone and never comes back?
Dad
always told me: 'You will play soccer creatively.' He was the one who told me
that he always felt free on the court, that he just played with the ball. He
always believed in my talent more than anyone else in the world. When Roberto
my brother started playing professional football with Gremio, he always told
everyone: 'Roberto is good, but wait until you see his younger brother, he's
incredible.'
Dad
was my superhero, he loved soccer so much that after working in the boat shop
all week, he went to work as a security guard at the Gremio stadium on the
weekends. How can it be that he will never see him again? He couldn't
understand what Roberto was saying to me.
I
didn't feel sad right away, that came later, a few years later I understood
that Dad would never come home. But I did understand that every time I have a
ball at my feet, DAD IS THERE WITH ME ".
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