by Luca Caioli
One of his class teachers, Maria dos Santos, remembers her former pupil as ‘well behaved, fun and a good friend to his classmates’. When asked about his favourite pastime, she says: ‘From the day he walked through the door, football was his favourite sport. He took part in other activities, learnt songs and did his work, but he liked to have time for himself, time for football. If there wasn’t a real ball around – and often there wasn’t – he would make one out of socks. He would always find a way of playing football in the playground. I don’t know how he managed it.’
It was football in the playground and football in the street. ‘When he got home from school, I used to tell him to go to his room and do his homework,’ says Dolores. ‘He always told me he didn’t have any. So I would go and start the cooking and he would chance his luck. He would climb out the window, grab a yoghurt or some fruit, and run away with the ball under his arm. He’d be out playing until 9.30 at night.’
As if that wasn’t enough, he began to skip classes to go out and play. ‘His teachers told me I had to punish him, but I never did. He had to practise as much as possible to become a football star.’ As her son would later acknowledge: ‘I was always playing football with my friends, that’s what I loved doing, that was how I spent my time.’
He plays in the street because there is no football pitch in the neighbourhood. One particular street, Quinta do Falcão, proves to be a challenge when buses, cars and motorbikes want to get through. They have to remove the stones marking out the goalposts each time and wait for the traffic to pass before resuming the game. The games they play are intense battles between households, between gangs of friends. They are games that never end. The only hiccup is when the ball lands in one of the neighbours’ gardens – and if it’s old Mr Agostinho’s garden he always threatens to puncture the ball and tell Dolores and the other mothers to keep their children in check.
There’s a well where Cristiano spends hours on end kicking the ball against the wall alone. The well and the street are his first training grounds. It’s here, between the pavement, the asphalt and the cars, playing against kids young and old, that Ronaldo learns the tricks and techniques which will make him great and become his signature style. ‘He used to spend all day in the street, doing authentic tricks with the ball. It was as if it was attached to his foot,’ recalls Adelino Andrade, who lived near the Aveiro family.
‘When it came to football he was truly gifted,’ maintains Cristiano’s sister, Elma. ‘But we never dreamed he would be where he is today.’
At six years of age, Cristiano has made his first foray into the footballing world. His cousin Nuno plays for Andorinha and Cristiano has been to the ground a number of times with his father. Nuno invites him to come and see him play, and asks him if he would like to join one of the teams. Cristiano joins the practice and decides to give it a go. Dolores and Dinis are happy with their youngest son’s decision – they have always loved football. Dinis and his older son Hugo are Benfica fans, while Dolores adores Luís Figo and Sporting Lisbon.
In the 1994-95 season, nine-year-old Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro is awarded his first sporting licence, number 17,182, from the Funchal football association, and dons the light blue strip for Andorinha. It’s a local club with a long history, founded on 6 May 1925. The name Andorinha is Portuguese for a swallow, which according to legend derives from one particular footballer’s superb shot which was followed by the flight of a swallow.
Primary school teacher Francisco Afonso, who taught Cristiano’s sister Katia, has dedicated 25 years to coaching in the Madeira junior leagues. He was Ronaldo’s first coach and he has never forgotten the first time he saw him on the Andorinha pitch, age seven.
‘Football was what Cristiano lived for,’ he says. ‘He was fast, he was technically brilliant and he played equally well with his left and right foot. He was skinny but he was a head taller than other kids his age. He was undoubtedly extremely gifted – he had a natural talent that was in the genes. He was always chasing the ball, he wanted to be the one to finish the game. He was very focused, he worked equally hard regardless of where he was on the pitch. And whenever he couldn’t play or he missed a game he was devastated.’
Club president Rui Santos tells a juicy anecdote about a match during the 1993-94 season: Andorinha versus Camacha, who at that time were one of the strongest teams on the island. At half time Andorinha were losing 2-0 and ‘Ronaldo was so distraught that he was sobbing like a child who’s had his favourite toy confiscated. In the second half he came onto the pitch and scored two goals, leading the team to a 3-2 victory. He definitely did not like to lose. He wanted to win every time and when they lost he cried.’
‘That’s why he was nicknamed ‘cry-baby’ explains Dolores. He cried and got angry very easily – if a team-mate didn’t pass him the ball, if he or someone else missed a goal or a pass, or if the team wasn’t playing how he wanted. The other nickname he acquired was abelhinha, ‘little bee’, because he never stopped. Like a busy bee, he was always zigzagging across the pitch. Years later in Madrid, Cristiano would christen his Yorkshire Terrier with the same name.
‘A footballer like Ronaldo doesn’t come along every day,’ adds Rui Santos. ‘And suddenly when he does, you realise he’s a superstar – different from all the other kids you’ve seen play.’ Unfortunately Andorinha was one of the weakest teams in the league, and when they faced the likes of Marítimo, Camara de Lobos or Machico, the matches were something of a whitewash. Ronaldo didn’t want to play because he already knew they would lose. But his father would come home, cheer him up and persuade him to put his kit and boots on and join his team on the pitch. Only the weak give up, he would say – and it was a lesson that little Ronaldo would never forget.
In a few short years his name becomes known across the island. The two big island clubs, Nacional da Madeira and Marítimo, begin to take an interest in the little bee. Talk of a kid who knows how to play ball reaches the ears of Fernão Sousa, Cristiano’s godfather, who is coaching the young Nacional da Madeira team. ‘I was delighted to discover that they were talking about my godson,’ he says. ‘I knew he was playing football but I had no idea he was so good. He was streets ahead of the rest. He handled the ball beautifully and he definitely had a bright future ahead of him. I immediately realised that this kid could be a godsend to his family.’ Without the slightest hesitation, he decides to bring him to Nacional. ‘I talked to his mother. I told her it was the best thing for him, and we reached an agreement with Andorinha.’
But it wasn’t all as simple as Sousa makes out. Dinis would have preferred his son to go to Marítimo. The club’s historic Almirante Reis ground is close to the family home. Plus the kid bleeds green and red – his heart beats for Marítimo. No one can agree, so Rui Santos arranges a meeting with both clubs to discuss possible offers. The Marítimo youth team coach doesn’t turn up to the meeting with the Andorinha president, so Cristiano goes to Nacional in return for twenty balls and two sets of kit for the junior team.
It’s a deal which isn’t worth much at the time, but Andorinha will go down in history as the first club of a Ballon d’Or winner, and will later receive funding from the municipality. Today, the old ground has been replaced with an artificial surface complete with floodlights. And that’s not all. The deal with Nacional is sealed in Madeira’s history books – just as Raúl’s transition to Real Madrid from the Atlético Madrid youth team became legendary across Madrid, purely because (the story goes) the Red and Whites didn’t want to pay the bus fare for the kid to get to training.
Cristiano is just ten years old when he arrives at Nacional – and his mother is more than a little concerned. ‘My husband was always encouraging him to play with older kids. I was worried he could hurt himself or break a leg, but Dinis always said, “Don’t worry, they can’t catch him, he’s too fast.”’
The fact that he is somewhat skinny and bony doesn’t escape the attention of the Nacional coaches, who are quick to recommen
d that he eats more to help him fill out a bit. But when it comes to assessing his credentials, they are in no doubt. ‘We saw immediately that he was fantastic,’ says António Mendoça, Cristiano’s coach during his two seasons playing in black and white. ‘His skills were already highly developed: speed, dribbling, shooting, lightning execution. Street football had taught him how to avoid getting hit, sidestep the opponent and face up to kids much bigger than he was. It had also strengthened his character – he was extremely courageous.’
Now it’s up to Mendoça and the other coaches to help him understand that football is a team sport. Ronaldo is capable of getting hold of the ball in his own half and heading for the goal – without passing to anyone on his team. His opponents don’t bother him. Losing isn’t an option; he wants to win everything. He cries and gets angry with his team-mates when something goes wrong. ‘They put up with it because he used to score so many goals,’ says Mendoça. ‘We won all our games nine-or ten-nil.’ But his individualism and pride are a problem. He behaves as if superior to the others and it’s difficult to give him advice – it has to be in private, never in front of the staff.
In the 1995-96 season at Nacional, Cristiano wins his first regional title in the league for ten-to-twelve-year-olds. Clubs like Porto and Boavista, the big clubs in ‘the rectangle’ (as islanders call mainland Portugal), begin to take an interest in him.
Fernão Sousa thinks it’s about time and only fair to let his godson take the plunge. For the second time, he contacts someone who will change the boy’s future: João Marques Freitas, assistant to the district attorney and president of the Sporting Lisbon club in Funchal. He is the one who tells the powers that be at the Green and Whites about this incredible kid from Quinta do Falcão. Sporting send someone over to talk to the family. Before long, Ronaldo is saying goodbye to his childhood, his family, his friends and his island. It’s time for him to make his way to the continent.
Chapter 4
Far from the island
‘It was the most difficult time in my sporting career.’
He has never been on a plane – he has never even left the island. This is the toughest challenge he has ever faced and he is so nervous that he cannot sleep the night before.
His godfather Fernão Sousa is accompanying him to Lisbon. It’s 1997, it’s the Easter holidays and Cristiano is on his way to a trial at Sporting Lisbon. He would have preferred to go to Benfica, a team both his father and brother love. But his mum has always been a Sporting girl and she has a hunch her son will be as great as Luís Figo. Besides, you can’t turn down one of the greatest clubs in the capital. Sporting has the best youth academy in Portugal, counting the likes of Paolo Futre, Figo and Simão among its alumni, while current players include João Pinto, Quaresma, Hugo Viana and Nani.
He’s convinced he can do well there. He knows he’s good and he thinks he can persuade the Green and White coaches that he’s good enough. But he’s only twelve years old, and when he finally arrives at the youth team training ground it’s incredibly overwhelming.
Coaches Paulo Cardoso and Osvaldo Silva are there to observe him play. They are not particularly impressed by Ronaldo’s physique – he’s a scrawny little kid. But once they see him in action it’s a whole different story. The boy from Quinta do Falcão gets hold of the ball and takes on two or three opponents. He’s relentless – a one man show: feinting, dribbling and driving the ball up the pitch.
‘I turned to Osvaldo and I said, “This one’s different, he’s something special,”’ recalls Cardoso. ‘And we weren’t the only ones who thought so. At the end of the training session all the other boys were crowding around him. They knew he was the best.’
The Sporting coaches are impressed by the trial. They want to see him play again the next day, on the training ground next to the old José Alvalade stadium. This time, youth academy director Aurélio Pereira will be there to observe him.
‘He was talented, he could play with both feet, he was incredibly fast and when he played it was as if the ball was an extension of his body,’ says Pereira. ‘But what impressed me more was his determination. His strength of character shone through. He was courageous – mentally speaking he was indestructible. And he was fearless, unfazed by older players. He had the kind of leadership qualities that only the greatest players have. One of a kind. When they got back to the dressing room all the other boys were clamouring to talk to him and get to know him. He had it all, and it was clear he would only get better.’
On 17 April 1997, Paulo Cardoso and Osvaldo Silva sign Cristiano’s player identification document. It reads: ‘Player with exceptional talent and excellent technique. Of particular note is his ability to dodge and swerve, from stationary or while moving.’ Next to ‘enrol’ there is a tick in the ‘yes’ box. He plays as a central midfielder, or ‘in the hole’ as the coaches say. Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro has passed the test – he can play at Sporting. But first they have to reach a deal with Nacional da Madeira.
After a week in Lisbon, Ronaldo returns home to life on the island. It’s up to the coaches now to arrange the final details of the transfer. Nacional owes Sporting 4,500 Portuguese ‘Contos’ (22,500 Euros) for Franco, a young footballer who has transferred there from Sporting. Cristiano’s signing could be an opportunity to waive the debt, but 22,500 Euros for a twelve-year-old kid is an exorbitant price. ‘It was unheard of,’ agrees Simões de Almeida, the club’s former administrator. ‘Sporting had never paid anything for a youth player.’
Aurélio Pereira and the other coaches have to convince the administration that it’s worth investing so much in one boy. On 28 June 1997 Pereira prepares a new report, adding the following postscript: ‘Although it may seem absurd to pay so much for a twelve-year-old boy, he has enormous talent, as proven during his trials and witnessed by the coaches. It would be a great investment for the future.’
These few lines are enough to win over the club’s finance director and the transfer is agreed.
In the last week of August, Cristiano Ronaldo leaves Madeira to settle in to the Sporting youth academy. It’s an extremely difficult time for a twelve-year-old. He still remembers the emotional day when he had to say goodbye to his family.
‘My sisters and my mother were crying. I was crying,’ he recalls. ‘Even when I was on the plane and we had just taken off, I thought of my family crying about me and I started to cry again.’
Ronaldo will be moving into Sporting’s residential accommodation for youth players who have come from other parts of the country. It consists of seven dorms and a living room and is located inside the Alvalade stadium just next to the three training grounds. Ronaldo is the youngest resident and he’ll be sharing a room with Fábio Ferreira, José Semedo and Miguel Paixão. Other residents come from Mozambique (a former Portuguese colony), the Algarve and Vila Real. Their schedule is strict: school until 5pm followed by training.
The first day of school is a traumatic experience. He is late to class and the teacher is already taking the register. He is number five. As he stands up and recites his name he can hear some of the students at the back of the classroom making fun of his Madeiran accent. The dialect is very different from the Portuguese spoken in the capital, almost a different language entirely. He sounds strange. He sounds poor. He sounds like an islander, and no one can really understand him. Cristiano loses his temper and threatens his teacher with a chair.
He becomes the laughing stock of the class and he feels like an idiot. A few days later he insults a coach who has asked him to clear up the changing room. ‘I’m a Sporting player and I don’t have to pick up anything off the floor,’ he retorts. It’s not a good move. His punishment involves missing a number of games. And of course, he cries – almost every day. He is homesick for his family, his island and his friends.
‘It was very hard,’ he says. ‘It was the most difficult time in my sporting career.’ He finds it impossible to get used to the locals, life in the apartment, the rules and the st
ress of big city life. Everything is different – everything is complicated. Lisbon is another world to him. He calls home two or three times a week.
He buys a 50-unit phone card and goes down to the phone box. It saddens him to hear his mother’s voice, it makes him cry and miss her even more. Dolores tries to cheer him up, telling him to ignore the jokers at school. She often has to console him and convince him that his life and his future are over there in Lisbon, at the Sporting youth academy. In the end she has to fly out to the capital because Cristiano says he can’t take it anymore. He wants to quit, abandon his dream and go home to the island so he can be with his family.
‘Cristiano’s mother was a key factor in determining who he has become today,’ affirms Aurélio Pereira. ‘She often took our side over her son’s. She helped us and she helped Cristiano.’ When the boy goes home and doesn’t want to return to Lisbon, his godfather also intervenes to ensure that he stays at the academy.
The first year is quite an ordeal. But gradually he begins to adapt. ‘In difficult times you learn a lot about yourself,’ CR7 will say years later. ‘You have to stay strong and focus on what you really want.’
‘He had a lifelong dream – he wanted to be somebody,’ says Paulo Cardoso. ‘He wanted to be a professional footballer with all his heart.’
During those tough early years he has a Madeiran tutor, Leonel Pontes, who accompanies him to training and to school. ‘Ronaldo was decisive in everything he did,’ he recalls. ‘He wanted to be the best at everything – table tennis, tennis, pool, table football, darts, athletics – he wanted to beat every opponent, be the fastest. He had to win no matter what sport he was playing. I think one of the reasons he got to where he is today is because he always wanted more.’