Pelè
Original painting by Michele Petrelli © When we were kids we didn't have a playstation or a smartphone. We played football on the paved road. We didn't have enough money to rent football fields. I remember the boys from public housing came. The poorer they were, the more they knew how to play football. We have also used various nicknames for them. There was Pelé. A kid who, in addition to scoring goals from a highly accurate free-kick, he had an olive complexion and he spoke in a low voice. He had been smoking for a long time. Everyone remembers it. Then there were a couple of goalkeepers who threw themselves on the asphalt to parry. So the knees were often bloody. I too was playing well and falling badly. We had great fun. However, there was a time when the older boys from public housing declared war on us. They came to us on bicycles and motorcycles in large groups. They looked like Indians. Who walked alone was finished. Someone was beaten and robbed. They stole footballs, loose change, jackets. We were beginning to be afraid to go down and play. We played a game one day. We felt strong because we were united. But they arrived early and invaded the "camp". The field was actually a large parking lot. At the first cry of a child we heard a scream coming from the building adjacent to the parking lot. A parent in an undershirt had left the house. He waved a stick. He was very angry.- Go away! "He cried out.
I am convinced that these guys did not leave for fear of being beaten. But they never returned and we were able to continue the game.
...OR DIGITAL FOLDER
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