Renaldo (51 page)

his family, his dog? Could he stand to live with real men, many of whom

were less than paternalistic in their outlook on life? The egos, the tempers, it

was all part of what he was about to experience in the next eight weeks. He

had thanked the doctor and assured him that he would confide his innermost

traumas, should any arise.

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RENALDO

The only trauma that the youngest player in camp was experiencing at

the moment was one of anticipation. After so much waiting, so much talk, so

much speculation, just what would it be like when he finally took the field with

the best players in Argentina? Would he embarrass himself? Would he find out

that he was in over his head as his mother had suggested? Would he be sent

packing with his tail between his legs?

Three o’clock. The moment of truth had arrived.

Drills commenced with limbering up and callisthenic routines. This

sequence would be repeated in the same order through to the end of the

tournament. Ball drills were next. Short passing, long passing, dribbling,

corner kicks, free kicks, penalty kicks. Next, defensive marking systems were

discussed, and finally, the twenty-two were divided into ‘A’ and ‘B’ squads, two

full teams of eleven men each.

Renaldo was placed on the B squad along with Ramon Vida. The A squad

members were the veteran players, or the perceived first team. Players that

manager Suarez had seen play many times, players that were known quantities

to the headman. The B squad was comprised of the young, unproven players

plus the old, perhaps too-long-in-tooth veterans.

The style of play would emphasize ball control. Short, controlled passes

resulting in a slow offensive buildup, complemented when appropriate, by

the attacking outside backs joining the push forward. There would be one

deep back, known as the libero, whose job was purely defensive. This player’s

primary duty was to sweep the ball upfield and out of harm’s way when his

territory was threatened.

The tempo and flow of the game would be dictated by the ball’s proximity

to their own goal. The further away the ball traveled, the more leisurely and

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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JAMES McCREATH

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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RENALDO

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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JAMES McCREATH

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