We call it: soccer

Some consider soccer a sport. For others, it’s more like religion. And growing up in a typical Brazilian household that was the case. Soccer was sacred. At least to my Dad. On Sundays, timed like church bells, the radio and TV would be on, while soccer players, just like Saints, would receive pleas of mercy for one more gol. And on desperate matches, God would be always involved. Many times, only His intervention could bring salvation to a team.

So, my sister and I grew up witnessing my Dad watching soccer matches, religiously. But there was more to it than just relaxing and enjoying the game with a can of beer and popcorn on the side. Something more sacred, that we wouldn’t understand until we left Brazil and returned to the US where my Dad had served in the army during Vietnam.

He was a soccer player. He was a soccer player at “7 de Setembro”, a small professional team in his hometown of Belo Horizonte and he continued to be a soccer player even whe he joined the US Armed Forces during Vietnam. In that Armed Forces Soccer Team, he created friendships that are part of his life to this day. Some like his buddies Mike, Peter and Arnold he talks to daily. But many team mates in that photo didn’t survive the war. Somehow, my Dad did. Some call it luck. But, me and my sister know better! We call it: soccer.

One day my 7-year-old nephew asked to play soccer. And after his first match the coaches asked my sister: Are you sure he never played before? If they knew our family history, they would know is in our blood.