Renaldo

by James McCreath

  artistic the players could become. But when the black-and-white globe was in

  their third of the field, an aggressive defense was expected to clear the ball from

  the danger zone.

  Initially, the defenses would concentrate on man-to-man marking while

  perfecting their offside trap. The outside halfbacks were primarily defensive

  feeders to relay the ball up the field to the forwards. They could join the

  attack, but only if the man they were marking defensively could not turn into

  an offensive threat during a counterattack. The center half had much more

  latitude. He often became the instigator of the attack by creating space for

  others to run into by means of his deft dribbling. Ideally, he would then hit one

  of his teammates with a precision pass. He was the quarterback, the man who

  most often controlled the flow of the game, if everything was going well.

  The forwards, well, they were simply the forwards! The money men, the

  goal scorers, the headline grabbers! They were usually the most temperamental

  group on any team, and they could either become overpowering or overanxious

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  in the heat of a tight contest. A striker on his game is an awesome sight to

  witness. As awesome as it is pathetic when the perfect setup is misplayed, then

  an accusing finger is pointed at everyone but himself.

  Nervous anticipation was the predominant emotion as the players lined

  up for the first actual scrimmage. The A squad field chart lined up as follows:

  This lineup combined both the obvious and the subtle. Junior Calix

  in goal had just finished an outstanding season with an absolutely horrible

  Huracan team. His composed and unselfish effort had not gone unoticed, and

  he was manager Suarez’s choice to replace the absent Hugo Bravo.

  The four defenders were very solid and experienced. Juan Chacon would

  act as the sweeper and general of the defense. Calderone was an exacting passer,

  Bennett a tenacious tackler, and Suazo stood six feet four inches, giving the

  back line some additional height to clear dangerous balls out of the air.

  There seemed some room to maneuver at halfback. Humberto Velasquez

  was a good defensive half, coming from a very defense-oriented team in Talleres

  Córdoba. Whether he could change the flow of his game to find the fleet-footed

  strikers that Suarez had assembled remained to be seen. Miguel Cruz at center

  half looked very solid, if he could control his temper.

  The oldest player on the roster, Carlos Castillo, had been reunited on

  the left side with longtime teammate Daniele Bennett. The two had sparkled

  together a few years earlier at River Plate, and now, in the twilight of their

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  careers, they had returned to their respective hometowns to play out their

  remaining seasons.

  Octavio Suarez had coached both men at River Plate, and he needed their

  maturity and steadiness. The two amigos had developed a sixth sense in relation

  to each other’s whereabouts on a football pitch over their years together, and

  Suarez was counting on them to renew that intimate bond.

  Castillo’s teammate at Córdoba, Nicolas Pastor, was given his familiar

  left side forward slot. The feeling was that Pastor, Castillo, and Bennett had an

  excellent opportunity to really communicate well and make things happen.

  The right side was locked up by league leading goal scorer Ruben Gitares

  of Newton’s Prefects. The center forward position was being held for the arrival

  of Nico Garcia from Spain, but in the meantime, someone had to fill the spot.

  To provide a semblance of continuity up the middle, Independiente ’ s most

  prolific marksman, Enrique Rios, was slotted into the glamour position. This

  formation gave Chacon, Cruz, and Rios an Independiente run up the center of

  the field.

  Everyone knew that this lineup was not etched in stone, especially with

  the pending return of the three European players. But it seemed to manager

  Suarez a logical place to start, and he had time to see if his logic was correct

  or not.

  Renaldo’s counterpart at center half on the A squad, and the man he

  would have to beat out to make the starting lineup, was a cocky spark plug of a

  player named Miguel Cruz. Cruz made up for what he lacked in refined talent

  with a bulldog tenacity and a whirlwind style. At twenty-two, he had already

  played three seasons with Independiente ’ s first division team, and his quick

  development was often linked to the tutelage of his mentor, club-mate, and

  brother-in-law by marriage, ‘Killer’ Juan Chacon.

  Number seventeen knew that he had his work cut out for him in playing

  against the often explosive-tempered Cruz, not to mention his terrifyingly ugly

  relative lurking in support on the back line.

  Well, no time like the present to find out if this whole thing is a joke or not, he

  thought to himself as Ramon Vida directed the ball onto his right foot with a

  short back-pass to start the scrimmage.

  From the beginning, he seemed a marked man. It was almost as if Octavio

  Suarez had told the A squad to test the rookie to the limit. Players swarmed all

  over him. Every touch of the ball invited two ‘touches’ to his person. The Under

  Twenty-One player was pulled, pushed, tripped, elbowed, and even cleated by

  the infamous Señor Chacon. Disorganized frustration could best describe the B

  squad’s efforts that first afternoon. A 4-1 drubbing was actually a compliment

  to their defensive resiliency.

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  The veterans had surged at their defense in continuous waves, unrelenting

  and unforgiving. There was, however, one bright moment for the underdogs.

  Up 3-0, the A’s seemed to get off their tempo for two or three minutes. B striker

  Caesar Castro hit the upright with a booming thirty-yard rocket. Seconds later,

  Renaldo miraculously found some space.

  B halfback Victor Ciro stripped the ball from his opponent, Pastor,

  and right-footed his prize perfectly to the waiting rookie center half. No one

  approached Renaldo as he gathered in the pass heading diagonally upfield.

  Angling toward his opponent’s deep sideline, he picked out Ramon Vida

  making a parallel run thirty yards upfield. The defense seemed content to let

  the rookie run out of real estate to make his play in, and once he was trapped in

  their web, they would descend upon him and simply relieve him of the ball.

  As Vida was crossing the penalty arch some twenty yards out from keeper

  Calix, Renaldo fed him a perfect pass that he, in turn, one-timed into the lower

  left-hand corner of the net. Both B players had been running on an angle past

  and away from the A squad goal, and the last thing Junior Calix expected was

  a shot back to his right side, against the flow of play. He didn’t move a muscle

  as the back of the net bulged with Vida’s hard drive.

  ‘Killer’ Chacon was immediately in Renaldo’s face.

  “Fucking schoolboy, don’t you every pull a stunt like that in front of me

  again. The next time you come down here, I will introduce my elbow to your

  front teeth! Now get back on your half of the field and stay there.”
>
  The final word was emphasized with an unfriendly shove to Renaldo’s

  right shoulder. The rookie stumbled back two paces, only to be embraced by

  the jubilant Ramon Vida, who had sought Renaldo out to offer his thanks for

  the setup.

  “Nice pass, hotshot! The Ugly One is pissed, though. Let’s get out of here.”

  He steadied his teammate, then turned him around and led him back over the

  half line.

  “Fucking babies! Don’t come back again!” was ‘Killer’s’ farewell.

  It turned out that Renaldo never had the opportunity to cross back into

  hostile territory. Rueben Gitares retaliated for the A’s less than half a minute

  after the ensuing kickoff, and Suarez blew the whistle ending the session. He

  had seen enough.

  A standard post-scrimmage routine was unveiled that first day. Shower,

  steam, massage, and physio time were allotted before assembling for the evening

  meal. An informal team meeting would accompany dessert and coffee, then a

  first-run movie was shown in the lounge. There was an hour or so of free time

  before room check and lights out.

  Players would gather in small groups in one room or another, and once

  Ramon Vida heard Renaldo play his acoustic Gibson guitar, he made sure that

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  his new friend and the instrument were always available for an impromptu

  sing-song.

  Classically trained with a profound knowledge of the abundant guitar

  heritage of Argentina, the rich melodies and intricate finger work that Renaldo

  preferred to play were always saved for his private moments. His teammates

  wanted up-tempo pop songs, meaning disco, or perhaps something from the

  Swedish group, Abba.

  Always a good improviser with a keen ear, once the introverted guitarist

  had heard the melody on Vida’s tape recorder, he could pick it up and craft

  a Bee Gee’s tune in minutes. After several nights as the extroverted Vida’s

  instrumental sidekick, Renaldo’s painful shyness seemed to subside with the

  acceptance of his musical skills by his peers.

  Ramon Vida had become the vocalist in the new duo, saying that the

  guitarist’s voice reminded him of fingernails scraping on a blackboard. Renaldo

  was fast warming to the brashly outspoken player from Boca, and the two

  seemed to spend most of their free time together, rehearsing new songs to

  entertain their teammates. Ramon’s earthy sense of humor and his constant

  yearning for female companionship kept Renaldo not only thinking of Simone,

  but fantasizing vividly about their last encounter.

  The bond that made the ‘R&Rs,’ as Ramon named their act, a tight duo

  musically, was also evident on the training fields. As players shifted back and

  forth from the A squad to the B squad depending on manager Suarez’s fancy,

  the R&R duo seemed to find each other and create dangerous opportunities,

  if not goals, on every occasion that they were teamed together. The musical

  combo continued to draw the ire of ‘Killer’ Chacon, who did not partake in

  any of their free-time jam sessions, and who also insisted that the rest of his

  Independiente followers stay away from the ‘fucking mamas’ boys.’

  The R&Rs were undisturbed by this rebuff, and it was evident that the

  two B squad Independiente players, Arzu and Argueta, would have liked to

  join in the fun that the dynamic duo provided the rest of the team.

  While he grudgingly played the showman for Ramon and his teammates,

  it was the few solitary moments alone in his room that Renaldo cherished

  the most. He would sit on his bed, softly strumming staccato cords while he

  hummed or half sang the words of his most revered composer-lyricist.

  His father had first introduced him to the bossa nova rhythm from Brazil

  when he was a small boy. Sergio Mendez and João Gilberto melodies soon

  became musical mainstays in Casa San Marco. But it was the songs and lyrics

  of the incomparable Antonio Carlos Jobim that truly inspired the boy. His

  “Girl from Ipanema” single was a commercial success on all five continents,

  even though it was popularized in much of the world by a Sergio Mendez

  cover version. Antonio Carlos Jobin had collaborated in the recording studio

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  with some of the greatest names in modern music, from Brazilian jazz pioneer

  Laurindo Almeida, through bossa nova creators Gilberto and Luis Bonfa, to

  legends like tenor sax great Stan Getz and guitarist Charlie Byrd. His musical

  coup, however, was the recording of a landmark album in Los Angeles in 1967

  with Frank Sinatra.

  Arranged and conducted with full orchestration by the meticulous Claus

  Ogerman, the ‘Francis Albert Sinatra-Antonio Carlos Jobim’ album was an

  international chart-topper that popularized the Brazilian’s velvet melodies and

  lamenting vocals to millions. That particular album remained Renaldo’s all-

  time favorite, and he carried the cassette tape of these two musical virtuosos in

  his guitar case. It was as cherished as the instrument itself.

  Thoughts of Simone flooded his mind as he played and softly sang the

  master’s gifts just for her. The melody was never a problem for him, but the

  singing voice . . . it was more of a whining croak. His speaking voice had been

  deep and mature since puberty, no problem. But once he changed its normal

  pitch or key, dogs started to bark. So he kept it soft, barely a whisper, as he

  longingly played “Insensatez,” “Corcovado,” or his favorite, “Desafinado.”

  “Sensuous Symca Fills Maracana!” blazed the headline in the Rio paper

  that Simone had clipped and sent him. She had written twice, which Renaldo

  found flattering, considering her nonstop touring schedule. Filling immense

  Maracana Stadium with two hundred thousand people was no small task, but

  the Brazilians were morbidly curious, as well as confident, that this foreigner

  would not live up to the preshow hype. Swept up in their own World Cup fever,

  they came in droves to see the host nation’s number one sex symbol. Many of

  them were prepared to have a bit of fun at her expense in a boisterous, pep

  rally-type atmosphere.

  Arriving on stage in only a yellow Brazilian football jersey with matching

  yellow spiked heels, the sexy singer embraced the audience, blowing kisses to

  the throng, backed by a pulsating samba beat. She had the crowd eating out of

  the palm of her hand before she even sang a note.

  Symca was the toast of Rio the following morning, and the influx of tour

  orders for World Cup ’78 that flooded travel agencies the next few days were

  directly attributed to Argentina’s hottest football ambassador.

  Renaldo reread her letter and tried to translate the newspaper article

  from Portugese to Spanish, but he never mentioned their existence, nor his

  relationship with the most famous woman in Argentina to anyone. Not even

  Ramon Vida.

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  His personal life was no secret to the two nonplayer guests who, from

  time to time, would drop by his room for a quiet chat. One of them, Estes

  Santos, would lustily ask for any details of his young friend’s courtship of the


  starlet. Knowing Estes as he did, Renaldo did not take offense, rather he would

  shift the topic of conversation to criticizing his performance on the soccer pitch.

  He had asked Estes to keep his relationship with Simone a private matter, and

  the goalkeeper coach did not betray his vow of silence. Santos would also ask

  of news from home, of Florencia, even Lonnie. How was his mother coping as

  the start of the university semester drew closer? With the first international

  exhibition matches about to commence, it was out of the question that he would

  be available to start the school year, barring injuries or outright dismissal from

  the team, of course.

  Renaldo responded that his mother seemed surprisingly calm about the

  situation. In fact, it was never mentioned at all in her sporadic letters. By the

  tone of her missives, she seemed in particularly good spirits. Lonnie and Celeste

  had been working at No Se Preocupe the last few weeks, and the older brother

  had promised Florencia that he was going back to school. That would make

  his mother happy, but not as euphoric as parts of her letters seemed to be. No,

  there was something else going on in the life of Florencia De Seta that her

  youngest son could not put his finger on. Better euphoric than depressed, was the

  boy’s overall attitude as he thanked heaven for small mercies.

  The other visitor that knew of his romantic yearnings was none other

  than Astor Gordero. The attorney’s family had owned a mansion on the beach

  in Mar del Plata for years, and Astor would take the sun and surf each summer

  like countless others, albeit much more lavishly. The selection of the seaside

  resort town as the team’s training headquarters had been spearheaded by The

  Fat Man, and now that they were in residence, it afforded him the opportunity

  to keep an eye on how things were proceeding. He was also able to titillate

  his young client with news of the boy’s famous heartthrob. Renaldo enjoyed

  Gordero’s visits, not only for the insights on Simone, but also for the firsthand

  knowledge that he always acquired on everything from the team and its

  composition, to the activities of the organizing committee and the preparedness

  of the facilities.

  Astor Gordero had a willing and enthusiastic audience in the bright,

  curious schoolboy, and Astor Gordero was one man that loved to hear himself