Joy and gratitude. If I had to sum up my experience chatting with Pedro, that would be it. We sometimes forget that in its simplest form, soccer is a game. It’s a diversion, not just for the players, but for the supporters that watch the game. He spoke about how everything goes away for 90 minutes when he’s on the pitch and how he could watch videos of brilliant soccer performances all day. His joy was apparent throughout the interview and came from a place of love for the game and gratitude for all it’s given him.
As much as he’s doing well, the road hasn’t been easy. Forget having to earn a place at one of the best academies in the world while competing against the youth of an entire country who need only “a ball and a pair of flip flops” to start learning the game. Forget the countless hours of training and practicing. These things are ingrained in the culture—the vast majority of young Brazilians can find joy in kicking the ball around even if their only receiver is a wall. This is part of their community, as it is with so many countries around the world.
Think, instead, about a boy having to live 16 hours away from his family for the possibility that he’s retained and can continue his dream. Or a high-schooler that has to leave his homeland to take advantage of his talent. Pedro spoke of his parents being among his biggest supporters, and even though he can feel their support across the continents, it’s still a hard thing to be separated from your family and your community.
Still, he’s happy and grateful that he’s been given these opportunities. Almost as much, he’s grateful for every supporter from São Paulo to Pennington, Huntington to Rochester, and now in Omaha. Our joy is his joy, and our pain is his pain—especially evident as he talked about the supporters in Rochester whose rich soccer history has been scarred by the coming and goings of a team (this last one arguably hurting the worst after the hope they were given).
As if those potholes weren’t occasionally enough to make an Omaha road crew recoil in horror, there’s also the aspect of the political state of Brazil. The country has recently been divided by a fierce political battle between—stop me if you’ve heard this one—a far-right candidate with possible criminal indictments and a disbelief in the country’s election results and an older left-wing candidate with more progressive views and a history in higher office. There have been protests and storming of government buildings by the previous president’s supporters (in January no less).
Obviously, we can empathize as Americans, being reasonably divided ourselves at the moment and having seen similar events unfold prior to those in Brazil. The difference is the pressure and consistency of their political clashes. It seems like daily, for an extended period, there were stories of protests turning to riots between those who felt marginalized and excluded from the democratic process (with no judgement implied about the validity of those feelings) against those trying to move forward as the victors.
I bring this up not to drum up any political commentary nor to paint an improper picture of life in Brazil—I’m too far removed as a lifelong American to truly offer that kind of commentary and especially not on a blog about soccer. But my takeaway from this situation as it pertains to my conversation are two-fold.
First, the mention of these types of events brought legitimate sadness to Pedro’s tone and demeanor. Even though removed from Brazil for the most recent events, he still feels it. He’s watching his family, loved ones, and community (all of which seem deeply ingrained in him) bear the effects of this national division. That can’t be easy as one pursues their dreams of kicking a little white ball around a patch of grass.
But this is exactly what feeds the second takeaway: his joy and gratitude in the game and what it means. Even after taking the sad tone, his voice (and seemingly spirits) lifted as he talked about an entire country coming together amidst such a deep political and philosophical divide to support their national team at the recent World Cup. Crowds of opposing factions stood in the public square in unison to watch and listen to their flag on the chest of these men. Impassioned shouts of protest and anger no longer were directed toward the political establishments, but toward the man in the oddly colored kit waving off fouls and making the worst calls in the history of sport. The tears of the marginalized and affected became the tears of the entire country as they watched Ronaldo and Neymar lament their exit from the World’s Tournament.
If only for a few short weeks, soccer unified and gave remedy to a populace deeply divided in their politics, but just as deeply connected by their love of the game.
It was an honor and a pleasure to have Pedro as my first interview for this journey. He’s a passionate and intelligent man and that translates to his performance on the pitch. He understands what this game is about and what it can bring in the best and worst of times. He embraces the communities where he lands and soaks in the support of its people. Even when those communities and people are otherwise divided, for 90 minutes with their crest on his heart he can hear and feel their one voice.
In that, Pedro has found joy and gratitude.
And hope.
You can watch the video Player Perspective: Ep. 1 A Chat With Pedro Dolabella 28 April 2023 on the Ranting Blue Penguin Media YouTube Channel. Audio format available on Spotify , Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, and Amazon Podcasts under the Ranting Blue Penguin’s Supporters’ Section Podcast.
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