The Ultimate Team

Chapter 5 - Do I Look Like A Hairdresser To You?

"...and that, my friend, is how you save goals," Gilmar finishes. He has been explaining to me tricks and techniques to follow when being a goalkeeper.

"Interesting. I've always been fascinated by goalkeepers. I just run and kick the ball. If it goes in the net, it goes in the net. If it doesn't then I go kick it again. It's a repeated cycle," I explain truthfully. And yet I'm still captain of the soccer team...don't ask me how.

Gilmar and I sit on one of the shaded side benches, waiting for the coach to arrive. The boys are still warming up, stretching and juggling. To pass the time, Gilmar has been telling me about his glorious days with Dunga back in the 1994 World Cup where Brazil was led to victory.

The cloudless sky allows all of the sunlight to shine onto the field. And generally with lots of sunlight comes the heat.

On the soccer field, a good thirty yards away, the boys are passing a soccer ball around. Since it's so hot some of the boys have taken their shirts off. Actually, only one of the boys have their shirts off - Neymar.

I stare at his toned chest gleaming with sweat as he fights for the ball. Swiftly stealing the ball from Hulk, he runs down the field. A bunch of people throw themselves at him, but he easily dodges them all with his fancy footwork.

I don't know which one awes me more; Neymar's lickable abs or his talented feet.

I scrunch up my eyebrows. I should be mad at him, not ogling him in admiration.

"Ah, there he is!" Gilmar removes my attention from Neymar to the head coach walking our way. The man is slightly taller than me, deep wrinkles prominent on his rectangular forehead. Short spikes of brownish-grey hair stick out from his head. The man wears what a coach generally wears; a pair of track pants and a sponsored sweater with the national colours on them.

We both stand as he approaches us.

"Ezmerelda, meet Carlos Caetano Bledorn Verri, former Brazilian footballer, head coach, and your new boss."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," I greet, extending my hand.

Mr. Verri returns the handshake firmly, his eyes seeming to judge my appearance. His expression speaks business. Suddenly I'm conscious of my sweaty palms.

"Please, call me Dunga," his masculine voice replies humorlessly.

Gilmar glances at his watch. "I must be off, so I'll let you two be. I will see you later Ezmerelda."

Gilmar walks off to his car, leaving me with my new boss.

Dunga's eyes gaze to the row of tall deciduous trees. The ground rises after the soccer field, then a fence separates us from the forest. Though it is a great distance from here, the grass seems to yellow the higher you go up the hill. But it is beautiful nonetheless.

"The beauty of soccer is that it can be played anywhere; from Camp Nou to the dusty streets of Brazil. It is a worldwide sport, bringing unity and enjoyment to the people," Dunga wonders. Wow, I did not expect the tough head coach of the Brazilian national team to explain what he just said so beautifully.

"I agree completely sir. The physics behind soccer is truly a wonder," I reply honestly.

Smiling at my answer, he scans the field, observing the players to see if they are on task. Apparently satisfied, he turns his attention back to me.

"Shall we get started?"

He leads me to the boundaries of the soccer field, clipboard in hand.

"So you are now the assistant coach, correct?"