Chapter I

"Damn it!" I shouted, throwing my captain's armband on the ground.

We had just lost again. And I had lost against my old rival, Marcos, who scored both goals for Sevilla.

It was an awful defeat, and I was furious. Our team's performance was so terrible. There were too many pass misses in the midfield. Too many mistakes in defense. And the most humiliating part was that my team let him score those two goals.

And hope of winning the Liga was gone. We were seven point behind Madrid, since they just had beaten Granada, and we would have to wait until next season if we wanted to try for the title.

What a joke!

My head felt dizzy. I couldn't believe how badly things had turned out. This was supposed to be the year when we finally got rid of the curse. We had spent months working out plans for the Liga title, and everything was set. But now, with only four games remaining, we had no chance.

My teammate, Jair da Silva, came over to me. "Come on, Ricardo," he said. "Don't worry. We'll make it up next season. Come on, cheer up."

But I wasn't feeling very cheerful. There's nothing worse than losing because of your low-quality teammates even though you did your best.

It was all my teammates fault. They should have done better. I did everything I could. I played my hardest, and I worked harder still after every training session. But it was useless. Nothing ever seemed to work.

I walked back into the dressing room and sat down on the bench. I took off my shirt, threw it on the floor, and leaned my head against the wall. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself.

Then my teammates began to come in. Some of them looked upset, some angry, but others were just indifferent.

"Why don't you guys understand how much I need to win?" I shouted. "How many times have I told you? I'm tired of being second. I want to win something big. I want to be the champion of the Europe. And you guys are making it impossible for me."

The locker room was silent. No one dared answer me. Then Carvalho came over to me. "Calm down, man," he said. "You know we're doing the best we can. Let's forget about it, okay? We've still got next season to go."

"Fuck that!" I shouted. I stormed out of the dressing room and went outside.