I’m nervous about this World Cup like I’ve rarely been in my life. Honestly, I got so nervous (combined with some personal issues) that I had a stress crisis that put me in bed on medication, with horrible pain, for several days.
For a few moments I did some “self-analysis” to figure out what was happening to me. How can a 30-year-old man behave just like, or worse than, the 10-year-old kid back in ‘94?
When I saw you, a successful guy, with money, family, career, and playing for the national team, crying and saying you spent the last 4 years suffering the pain of having missed on a goal, I remembered some friends who said, laughing, “Julio’s the guy who’s gonna throw the cup away, you’ll see”.
And right there I remembered myself, how many times people said, laughing, “Fellipe’s the guy who’ll blow it.” I remembered phrases and sentences declared over my future and over the failures I would commit. About when I would lose. About how every good phase ends with some damn Tsunami.
I remembered how many nights I spent awake, crying out of fear of losing something I hadn’t even won yet. I remembered the sleepless nights, the stressful days, and the weight of carrying the ‘obligation to win’ — the weight of having so many people who need me to “save that next ball.”
For years, and it’s gotten worse over the past few months, I’ve been searching for a way to free myself from these ghosts and from this weight. I identify the problem, but I can’t counsel myself. So “Julião,” I’m going to counsel you, and in doing so, counsel myself, and leave it here so I can remember my own words in the future.
No, you don’t have the power to change the past. That ball that went in isn’t coming back out for anything. The net has already shaken, and the tear the fans cried can’t be wiped away.
No, you’re not the one responsible for taking the corner kick and scoring the goal. Your job is to keep the ball out, but sooner or later one will go in. You can’t avoid all of them.
No, you won’t be able to be a hero forever. The penalty you saved today will be forgotten in the next match, and ‘all’ the story will be rewritten in the next 90 minutes.
No, you won’t play another World Cup. You’ll hardly play another 3 years at a high level. Age extracts its price, and I bet you can already feel it heavier when the pains that used to pass in a night now take a week to disappear.
But there’s something you can do: You can enjoy every game. You can close your eyes every time you walk down the locker-room tunnel. You can smell the grass, touch the post, listen to the crowd, and sing the anthem.
You can celebrate hard with every save, you can scream with every goal, you can throw yourself for the next penalty, and you can rejoice with every victory.
You can, and should, not forget the Champions League title, the Copa América, and the fantastic Confederations Cup. Ahhh that penalty against Uruguay, what a beautiful thing.
You can, and should, remember that the greatest goal of your life you’ve already scored — the beautiful wife, the kids by your side, and the success that poor kid from Flamengo’s youth squad has achieved.
You can, and should, believe that there’s still so much more than these 3 games. There’s a long life post-football; life doesn’t end in two weeks, so don’t turn the next cross into a life-or-death duel.
As always — the Cup will have one champion national team — and 31 defeated ones. The sixth title, if it comes, won’t turn the vulture into my parrot, won’t turn corrupt politicians into honest ones, inefficiency into efficiency, criminals into upstanding people. Nor will it produce miracles. Neymar isn’t going to walk on water — and Murtosa isn’t going to turn into Mario Bros. If Brazil wins — we’ll be happy and joyful for a few days — and we’ll extend our “right to mock” for another generation. *
No Julio, don’t turn every chance to win into a fight not to lose. Risk everything, jump with conviction, play with blood in your eyes, but do it to win. Nobody avoids losing a dream. Dreams are objectives, goals. Something we go after, not something we hide so we don’t lose it. **
Fight for your dreams. Celebrate your victories. Cry over your defeats. But above all, enjoy the road, because that’s what we call life. And this, my friend, you only have one of.
- Extracted from Gustavo Poli’s blog post ** Extracted from the excellent Rica Perrone blog