There was a time when the name of Adriano Leite appeared in any football conversation. Arriving from the favela of Rio de Janeiro and nicknamed ‘the emperor’, his powerful hitting had taken him from the extreme poverty of Brazil to the luxury of Milan, from the neighborhood hunks to the best stadiums. He never left the favela and depression made him leave everything to return. and living between alcohol and problems as a “waste”at least that’s how it is called in the last letter shared on The Players Tribune.
“Do you know what it feels like to be a promise? I know it. Also a broken promise. The biggest waste in football: me. I like that word, waste. Not just because of how it sounds, but because I’m obsessed with wasting my life. I’m fine like this, in a frantic waste. I enjoy this stigma. I drink every other day, yes. (And the other days too.) How does a person like me get to the point of drinking almost every day?
I don’t like to give explanations to others, but here is one: I drink because it is not easy to be a promise that remains in debt. And at my age, this is even worse.”, begins a text in which he reviews his entire career from his hard childhood to his fall into depression, passing through the football elite.
In the text, Adriano invites you to discover the streets of Vila Cruzeiro where he grew up and where he now enjoys every day, despite having his home in a luxurious area of Rio. He travels there every morning by motorcycle. to share the day with your friends where you have always been happy.
“My father was truly happy here. Almir Leite Ribeiro. You can call him Mirinho, as everyone knew him. A type of status,” he writes, introducing the man who taught him everything. His death from a stray bullet that lodged in his skull, It was the ‘ticket’ to hell of one of the best footballers history has ever known.
“My father’s death changed my life forever. To this day, it is a problem that I have not yet been able to solve. It all started here, in the community that I care so much about. Vila Cruzeiro is not the best place in the world. Quite the opposite“, he confesses before narrating the moment that changed everything.
“Damn, my father was shot in the head at a party in Cruzeiro. A stray bullet. It had nothing to do with the disaster. The bullet entered through his forehead and lodged in the back of his head. The doctors They had no way to get her out. After that, my family’s life was never the same. My father started having frequent seizures Have you ever seen a person having an epileptic seizure in front of you? You don’t want to see it, brother. It’s scary,” he remembers of an event that occurred when he was barely 10 years old.
From then on, with his mother, his grandmother and the help of his neighbors, Adriano grew up amid serious difficulties until he reached Europe… and conquered his football. He never found his place far from the heat of the favela: “When I went to Inter, I felt a very strong blow in the first winter. Christmas came and I was left alone in my apartment. It’s freezing cold in Milan. That depression that hits during the freezing months in northern Italy. I didn’t feel like doing anything, man. All that combined with nostalgia and I felt like shit.”
Favela rule number one: keep your mouth shut
“I called home. ‘Hello, mom. Merry Christmas,’ I said. ‘My son! I miss you. Merry Christmas. Everyone is here, the only one missing is you,’ he replied. Laughter could be heard in the background (… ) I could see the scene in front of me just by hearing the noise on the phone. Damn, I started crying immediately,” when he hung up the phone it was the beginning of the end.
“I was devastated. I grabbed a bottle of vodka. I’m not exaggerating, bro. I drank all that shit alone. I filled my ass with vodka. I cried all night. I passed out on the couch because I drank too much and I cried. But that was it, right?” right, man? What could I do? I was in Milan for a reason. It was what I had dreamed of all my life. God had given me the opportunity to become a soccer player in Europe. My family’s life has improved a lot thanks to him. to my Lord and everything He did for me. And my family did a lot too. That was a small price I had to pay, compared to what was happening and what was still going to happen. But that didn’t stop me from being sad,” he says.
Mancini, Mourinho, Moratti… no one could get him out of the hole. And he returned to the favela in search of freedom. “When I ‘escaped’ from Inter and left Italy, I came to hide here. I spent three days going through the entire complex. Nobody found me. There is no way. Rule number one of the favela: keep your mouth shut. Do you think anyone will tell me Would you give away? There are no rats here, brother. The Italian press went crazy. Rio police even carried out an operation to ‘rescue’ me. They said they had kidnapped me. You’re kidding, right? “Imagine that someone is going to do some harm to me here… to me, a child from the favela.”
“Whether I liked it or not, I needed freedom. I couldn’t stand having to always be aware of the cameras every time I went out to Italy, anyone who crossed my path, whether it was a journalist, a con man, a con man or any other son of a bitch“, he ditches his story before leaving some final lines.
“I just want to be at peace and remember my essence. That’s why I keep coming back here. They really respect me here. Here is my story. Here I learned what community is. Vila Cruzeiro is not the best place in the world. Vila Cruzeiro is my place“, concludes.
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