Chapter 26: The Child of Morumbi

"Kaka! Kaka! Kaka!" The commentator stuttered repeatedly, as if he was also pounding the table. "The ball is in! Where on earth did São Paulo find this young man? With only fourteen minutes remaining until the end of the match, Kaka is getting closer and closer to his first championship trophy. Perhaps it's disrespectful to Botafogo to say this, but I don't want fate to let this young man down. He deserves a trophy, of course, we also hope for a miracle to happen because football is round, and anything is possible."

Football is round; it can roll in any direction, just like the course of a match. No one can predict which way it will roll in the next second, but at this moment, all São Paulo fans believed that São Paulo's football would roll towards victory.

Because they had Kaka.

From that moment on, Kaka became a true "one of their own."

He was no longer just an intriguing, fresh face who might be sent back to the youth team or demoted to the reserve team if his performance fluctuated, as the fans wouldn't allow it.

He was no longer a dispensable player in the team, who could easily be replaced by promoting a promising youngster or buying a star, because the fans wouldn't agree to that.

He became the special one. If one had to define him with a word, it should be: the favorite.

Just like Raul for Real Madrid, like Beckham for Manchester United, like Torres for Atlético Madrid.

They might not be the most famous in the team, the ones who contributed the most, or the most good-looking, but they were undoubtedly the most favored ones in the team.

Because they were the "Children of the Bernabéu," the "Children of Old Trafford," the "Children of the Calderón."

And today, Kaka became the "Child of Morumbi."

They could scold him if he misbehaved, but others couldn't insult him; they could complain if he seduced someone else's pretty daughter, but others couldn't take her away; they might say, "Don't come back" when he stormed out in a huff, but when he returned battered and exhausted, they would be the first to drag him back home by the ear.

Isn't that why fans are called idiots, always doing foolish things?

Kaka didn't know how lucky he was.

There were countless players who scored in finals and brought championships to their teams, but the players who became fan favorites were one of a kind.

Amidst the thunderous chants of "Kaka," he stretched out his arms, looked up at the sky, and instead of his usual gesture of pointing his index finger upwards, he brought his four fingers together and opened his thumb, as if welcoming the blessings from above. He smiled and ran.

Fabiano was the first to rush over, followed by Franza, then Baptista, and many more.

To avoid being buried under a pile of men again, Kaka turned around before Fabiano reached him and extended his hands for high-fives.

"You know what? You're the most badass newcomer I've ever seen! The most badass!"

"Kaka! Come here, let me kiss you!"

"Brother, score another one! I think you can score another! Destroy them!"

Except for the guy who wanted to kiss him, Kaka accepted all the praise from his teammates and fulfilled their requests.

So he scored another one.

A counterattack initiated by Franza, a set-up by Fabiano, and Kaka quickly joined in, striking the ball without hesitation.

A shot with moderate power and speed, but an exquisitely deceptive angle, a true world-class goal.

The goalkeeper had no chance.

6:2, the match was decided.

The referee didn't wait for the injury time to be completed and blew the final whistle. Botafogo fans had already left, leaving only the roar of São Paulo fans filling the Morumbi Stadium.

"Congratulations, Waldo."

The two head coaches shook hands, and the Botafogo manager graciously offered his congratulations to Alvarez, but he couldn't help but add a sour remark, "You were lucky."

"Yes," Alvarez didn't deny it, "I was lucky."

Their hands shook once more, then one exited, and the other entered. One walked into the players' tunnel, where there was light, but at that moment, it appeared gloomy and cold. The other headed towards the pitch, where the sun was setting, but it seemed like a thousand dawns were rising.

"Congratulations to São Paulo, they have created history. This is their first time winning this cup tournament. They will now participate in the Brazilian Championship Cup, and if they win, they will play in the Copa Libertadores. Congratulations to Waldo Alvarez, his youth army has shown great fighting spirit. Congratulations to Ricardo Kaka, he has once again become the hero of this city. It's hard to believe he's only eighteen years old this year..."

As the commentator said, this was São Paulo's first time winning the Rio-São Paulo Tournament, and creating history is always exciting.

The fans celebrated as if it were a grand festival, with songs and dances becoming the city's main rhythm.

Alvarez hugged each player, but he clearly embraced Fabiano and Kaka for a longer time.

Heroes were always favored, and they deserved it.

"Well done, Kaka," Alvarez smiled like a 150-pound fool. "I knew you could do it, but I didn't expect you to do so well. Thank you, son."

"No, thank you, coach," Kaka replied.

Not every talent could make it, and if they encountered an unqualified manager or a timid old man, he might still be polishing senior players' shoes.

"Ha, I accept that, but I still have to say, you really did well. I'm proud of you, but you can do even better. Don't relax, Kaka, not at all. Your journey has just begun; this is just your first championship. You should win more. I've never seen a young man like you before, disciplined, confident, smart, humble, hardworking. You were born for this, but on the condition that you don't relax," Alvarez patted Kaka's shoulder with a sigh. "Remember, don't fall behind."

Everyone likes to be praised, whether they're eighteen or thirty-eight years old. Kaka was no exception. He had been a successful person and received countless compliments and praises, but the last time an elder had proudly and gratefully said, "You did a great job," was probably when he was a student, and his teacher read his essay aloud in front of the whole class as an example.

Oh, I forgot that many of you have never had that experience. Anyway, it felt great.

The most exciting moment, of course, was the cup ceremony. Although it was only a championship at the level of a village's best enterprise, just like how many people felt as excited as if they had secured a date with a fire fairy when they won a school sports medal, the São Paulo youth army felt like they were the most badass existence in the world after this small achievement.

The championship ceremony lasted until dusk, with fireworks bursting in the sky, dazzling and brilliant.

(End of Chapter)