Football

Football was an integral part of my childhood. 

Whenever I would go to a friend’s house, or during any break at school, I would play. My favorite outfit was a t-shirt with a picture of Luis Figo and the colors of Portugal, with a jacket with the colors of Spain. Every school day at 1 PM, I would watch Captain Tsubasa and fantasize about performing impossible tricks.

I loved reading about Zinedine Zidane, Pelé, and Ronaldo. I remember browsing a virtual encyclopedia and trying to learn as much as I could about them.

One day, my parents bought me a book about football training. This is probably the book that indirectly introduced me to personal development. It was detailing the technical aspects of shooting a ball or passing it to a teammate, along with several exercises used by coaches to improve said skills.

They wouldn’t let me join the local club however, and I eventually ended up growing out of my interest in football. 

Watching football on TV or attending matches never interested me. It was always about spending our calories and friendship. 

I don’t remember the last time I played. Maybe it’s time to buy a new ball to reminisce.