My grandpa said to me that if I wish enough things and do every day something to achieve it and make my dream come true the universe wouldn't have another choice that reward me for what I have done. He past away of cancer a few years ago, I still don't get it, I don't understand why he died.
The smell of the grass and the screams of the crowd singing out loud the hymn of my team reminds me of my grandpa with his black beret, reminds me of that day that I proposed a goal to myself and that I could achieve today thanks to my Old Man, my dad who supported me with everything and of course my mom that understand me all the time.
Barquisimeto – Venezuela 1999
Brasil debuts in front of Argentina, with a scary team: Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Rivaldi and Roberto Carlos It was just the minute 9' of the game and I was already freaking out, amazing shots that almost are gol and passes that were almost of another world. I was just watching two stars making a great match; when I though the match can become more tense Ronaldo kick to make goal but it was a bit floppy and yes it was GOL I scream with all my strength for that but my dad and my grandpa don't. It was Outside, thing that I disprove.
In the min 40 the match was still 0-0, Argentina each time was closing more the game and I just wanted to scream GOL again and that really worth it and it was like if Ronaldhino were listening to me, he go with the ball to the gol zone and he tried but when he kick it bounce in the archer and goes to the feet of Ronaldo, 4 Argentinian were defending and he just make a movement with the foot making a trick and it was GOL, I was just so happy we were all jumping around screaming the great shot, my mom joined us.
Those fractions of happiness are not comparable with nothing in the world, I have been a believer of that we are particles of that we share, we are fragments of the conversations that we have, of all the moments we live. I think that more than the football I love that emotion, that feeling of perpetual happiness that only few have the chance to taste.
And then Ronaldo came again, a trick "Bicycle", tunnel and a pass to Ronaldinho what a gol, again they were unstoppable.
The game ended 4 - 2 Brasil won, I truly I was so happy and satisfied for the great match I enjoyed, I got up from the couch took my soccer balloon and proposed to go outside but I realized that my grandpa and my dad are not siting, in fact they were like statues staring at me.
What's the matter? - I asked, rebel.
They look each other, my grandfather under the look denying without desire
-My little pumpkin, you don't know what it's an Outside. - Answer me serious.
-Of course I do dad, come on that referee don't know nothing.
It's time for The Talk, I told you... I told you to have a kid before. - The grandpa said laughing in a mocking tone while he took of his black beret and siting.
-Hahaha, your grandpa is doing the funny, go get paper and pencil... And also a rule. -
We were learning about soccer until late night, my mom joined us with some cookies and snacks, it was a pijama party. I realized that I didn't have a clue of what was an Outside or how to recognize it, I learned games strategies that Brazil used to use A LOT and of course I get how close was my family how united we are, if you have a problem my family will not leave you alone, is the type of family that they have that patient to explain things that only parents or the one who is in love with you can have, and the second one I learned later.
With the time I grew up, loving the unstoppable Brasil and his murder team, I keep playing soccer in the park all the afternoons after doing homework with my friends but the emotion of watching the games in the screen were not the same thing, I wanted to feel the match in a different way, I wanted to scream the score for my people so one day instead of going to my usual training of soccer in the park I went to a stadium were the Caracas Futbol Club used to play, I read in the newspaper that they have some characters that were giving so much fight in the matches and that they left their soul in the field: Stalin Rivas y José Manuel Rey; I was so excited that I left some little screams came out of my mouth. Yes, I a girl, I'm emotional. Pitifully those "little screams" were too much and security came, I was in panic so started to cry in the floor, they carry me in they arms and shoulders and when I opened my eyes I was inside the stadium in the best seats, the security man said he was sorry for freaking me out and give me a Coca Cola, the tasty soda ever in years.
From that day on I was dividing my days in three, at the beginning of the afternoon I must do my homework each time harder I must say, then I was playing soccer with my friends and after all that I run like a storm to see the Caracas FC training, There I saw for first time the legend: Juan Arango. In that time he wasn't a legend.
The Venezuela Cup was to Caracas FC again, but they really have been getting the game quality of the players so low, if in any time they have "quality" to say; I stop visiting the stadium. I was so disappointed with myself, I was getting bad grades in the school and my friends stopped playing soccer, they used to laugh of me because I supported the national teams where there was "a crappy football" How can I fight those words? Maybe they were right; when I compared a game of Caracas FC with one of Brasil or even Boca Juniors you can see completely the level of the soccer quality, I become a ghost in my own home, in the high school ( yes I grow up, I was a teenager already), my parents didn't understand me and my life was changing.
A quiet afternoon I was enjoying the hot sun and a cold breeze was hugging me in the balcony of my house, I was asleep looking at the Avila Mountains in my hammock when my grandpa came whistling and playing with his walking stick, he show a little smile like when he was mocking of my dad.
Hey beautiful, what are you doing? - He ask.
-Hey grandpa, I'm waiting for my hear to grow.
-Do you want me to wait with you?
-I don't think you have that many years left grandpa. - I laugh out loud
-Well, then let's do something more fun.
From his pocket he took an envelope, he didn't give it to me he opened; in his face you could sense that emotion of a kid opening presents, his eyes sparkling and I could see four tickets and I get it: concert tickets for a band, but which one?
-Grandpa, I don't like Rock. I don't want to go see your weird bands.
He give me the tickets, in my hands, I was speechless. I look at him and hesitate. I had in my hands what I all my life have wanted but I couldn't believe it, I could read in Red wine color (vinotinto) clearly
VENEZUELA VS URUGUAY
I had in my hands tickets to go to the match of elimination to go to the Football world cup in Japan. I have months without watching the Vinotinto playing, and what about the Caracas FC I didn't know what players they have now neither any of his strategies. I looked at my grandpa with my eyes opened as big as I can, he was with a smile from ear to ear. He knew, he know me and my football passion was just back.
-Ok grandpa. We have time to catch up and get up to date with the new strategies and the new director of the Venezuela Team. Uruguay is a strong team but we definitely can beat them.
I keep talking, for hours. That day I give myself a goal I have to be part of the Vinotinto no matter what. That year the Vinotinto defeated Uruguay for the first time ever in the history in Maracaibo Venezuela with a score of 2-0. After that we defeated Peru with three goals in favor in San Cristobal I knew every name, every strategy and even the expressions. Richard Paez was a genius, the director of the Vinotinto.
The Vinotinto earned my heart again, traveling around Venezuela for each match I meet soccer teams that are still the principal veins of that Venezuelans Team that give their face to the world playing football, my loved Vinotinto. The Deportivo Tachira, Zamora FC, and the Deportivo Lara they were to me the gear in movement that sustained the quality soccer.
The vinotinto was almost clasificated to the Football World Cup, 5 minutes of discount and we were losing 3 to 1, wining this match was the difference, we needed to win for the points and go for the first time ever to a World Cup.
From that moment the other was history, the American Cup celebrated in Venezuela in 2007/ I met Messi in Barquisimeto, I left my voice in each gol of Venezuela and of course of Robinho ( I never stopped loving Brasil) but I almost get into depression when my team loss against Uruguay and I think that if Brasil wouln't won and become Champion I could't ever get recover of that, even for all those matches that my grandpa take me to.
I realized that celebrate a goal of a team that is yours, that you have seen grow and form, to understand that they are people that leaving the soul in the field, sweating the shirt like never before, like there were no tomorrow, people that have your same flag and nationality, is something hard to explain and understand because it goes beyond limits, is not just you is a whole country. When Venezuela was falling apart, the Vinotinto came up and we all dress up the same shirt, we all celebrate the same and going in the same direction.
In the 2009 the Vinotinto Movie came out and I cry more that when my dog ate my Barbie, but the next year my grandpa past away. Yes, I fall in a depression; we we gather enough strength to clean his room I found the part of the closet where he used to keep his original berets from Europe, totally empty and a box full of old tickets of football matches, each game we went.. It was there.
To believe in the Vinotinto back then was a mockery, it was absurd. A country so late in technology and culture passing trough a crisis every day. You didn't live you instead survive, a country where your parents sacrifice their health to see you eating and have happy children.
The sacrifices we do for the ones we love are never comparable or able to be determinate, those are just actions that we must do to keep that happiness, the one I was talking above. Each beret of my grandpa was purchased meticulously by my grandmother, she died when I was 5 years old. Her love for me and for my family transcend death.
Today I remember all this from the field, I left my sould in the game and staying sub champions with the Vinotinto Sub 17. Now is that there is time to dream, now is that there are games to win.
Mi equipo favorito es la Vinotinto.
Anecdotes of a fanatic, 2017 Caracas - Venezuela
My passion for the Vinotinto is real, and even if this story is not I wanted to show my love for my team together with my other passion, writing.
Fictional story based in true soccer facts.
You can read my original post in the Spanish domain:
https://scorum.es/es-es/football/@jokossita/my-favorite-team-mi-equipo-favorito
Lee mi publicacion en español dando clic en el link
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