CHAMPION
When the Loner and his friends decided to build the City, it never occurred to them that, in the future from the midst of the population would emerge talented leaders capable of turning dreams into reality. A man of great insight, the architect of the City Museum, however, was so confident that he had projected a gallerydestined to the City’s heroes. In this gallery, the largest portrait was that of Champion, sportsman and idol, the pride of the population.
Champion had become a legend in his own time. 6’6” tall, extremely thin, with a trunk too small for his legs and arms awkwardly long, he reminded people of a monkey or spider or swan or preying mantis.
Carrying the burden of his undisclosed age, he maintained his image as an athlete, who had collected medals, conquered trophies and admirers. The City admired him and loved him as a role model. He was an aging hero, whose strength may have left him, but for whom the passion for sports, for all sports lived on.
According to the oldest inhabitants of the City, he was first called Champion during the times he competed in track and field events. He was unbeatable in long jump and running.
An important fact to bring up is that he had never played soccer. Maybe that is why he decided to completely dedicate himself, heart and soul to the game. His wasn’t the typical love of a fan who would cheer from the stands for his team. It was almost a fever that led him to build the stadium and to shake up the pride of the people. He took care of everything.
Even the idea for the club’s flag was his own: a vertical standard the same shade of aqua as the City Lake with two arching fishes in the center forming the letters CC standing for City Club.
Like Champion, other athletes showed up to make the City’s team. All of the men’s nicknames began with C, except for Pilungo, whose shirt number was “1”.
The fans quickly made up a cheer, “Give me a P—Pilungo; Give me a P for El Paredon.” He did in fact defend against goals as if he were a "paredon", a wall.
Two brothers, Central and Captain came to play fullback. They were talented giants that Champion had known for a long time. He’d hoped that they want to play on the CC team.
It wasn’t as easy getting centerfielders set up, but after trying a few alternatives, Champion chose Catuca, Centerhalf, and Cururu, three valuable players.
Looking for the same quality in the offensive, he found his line of attack Caçamba, Caboré, Commander (the captain), Capote and me. I played the left and was an idol for the crystalline legion of fans. I had lost count of the times I saw the stadium tremble while the fans yelled my name.
After a few consecutive victories, our most ardent fans, swore that CC was unbeatable. Some believed that our banner had mystical powers, and they seemed to be right. Since the founding of the club, wherever we played, at home or away, our aqua flag soared proudly overhead
— victorious.
Of the neighboring cities, only one, whose name won’t mention, had a team of our caliber. Obsessed with breaking our record, their players practiced day and night. In spite of their determination, the team was still at a disadvantage, but for they were a real threat. We knew for a fact that their directors were not above bribing referees. We knew that they would stoop to any measures to get what they wanted.
And this was the team that was slated to play against us at the inauguration of the CSC.
I say against “us” from habit. I still consider myself part of CC because it is part of my life. Yet, I wouldn’t have been allowed to play in the inauguration game if not for Champion. If only he could outsmart those low-down dirty club directors and ruined their sleazy plan.
Champion had always been a model of decency and loyalty. For him, one error didn’t justify another, nor did one crime compensate another. In spite of his honorable principles, however, this time he had to fight fire with fire. I knew that CC was already in trouble because our team had only eleven players; there were no reserves. Even worse, I was that missing player and must admit I was the best player: the most feared attacker and the goalies’ nightmare. When it came right down to it, Champion had two choices: come up with a plan or hand our team of ten on a silver platter to our rivals’complete squad.
As I sat in prison, I still hoped for victory. I trusted Champion to overcome difficulties. I had
always admired his ability to face obstacles head on. And this time, the reputation of the City was at stake. My inner voice assured me that Champion would find a way out and lead CC to victory. It wouldn’t be during our inauguration game that our enemies would bring us down. I was completely confident that our extraordinary leader would find light at the end of the tunnel.
And he did.
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