Once an avid, almost obsessive fan, I would even fight for my team. I played soccer until I was 18, earning the nickname “Maria Homem” from my friends. But this intense passion for soccer started to trouble me, especially after my last infatuation during the 1982 World Cup. I realized I didn’t want to become a fanatic fan.

People asked why I wasn’t the fervent supporter I once was, arguing that soccer is a sport, sport is health, and health is vital. But my issue wasn’t with soccer itself. It was with the fundamentalist, fanatical, loud, and uncivilized fans who think the whole world should share their moments of joy. Yet, I still harbor some archaic feelings for the great magic that is soccer Art.

I never rooted for Corinthians; I was always a Santos fan. But because of my dear brother Lulu, who is no longer with us, that old passion began to stir my heart again. Not for the team, but for the joy my brother felt watching Corinthians play.

Lulu, who had Down Syndrome, was a big privilege of mine to care of him for almost four years. During that time, I gained invaluable lessons and was blessed with unforgettable moments, his unconditional love, and angelic light. To give you an idea of how much he loved Corinthians, all his t-shirts were from the team—he wouldn’t wear anything else.

We all remember hilarious moments at home. For example, when Corinthians were losing, he would turn off the TV. When they won, he would say, “Suck Palmeiras, suck São Paulo,” showing his middle finger.

I just want to say how much I miss him, and how everything is temporary and fleeting, life is just a dream! 😔

©️ Beatriz Esmer