Ronaldo Nazario sank into his favourite armchair with a beer to watch the Selección play out their semi final grudge match against the industrious Manschaft.
He was cautiously optimistic. They were entering this one on the back of a 4 -1 demolition of a bold Cameroon side.
The ever-present Thomas Muller, not the fastest or the cleverest, but certainly one of the most resourceful, gave his side the lead on the eleventh minute. Still plenty of time to pull one back. No harm done.
But it went from bad to worse. Miroslav Klose–playing in his last World Cup before a well-earned retirement–used his striker’s instinct to slot it home past Julio Cesar. 2 – 0. A minute later, Toni Kroos had an effort from the edge of the box. 3 – 0. Kroos again. 4 – 0.
They were 5-0 up before the half hour mark. Brazil barely had a sniff. Wake up Bernard! Wake up Fred! They were rattled. Scolari looked bamboozled on the touch line. What could he possibly do to turn this around?
Germany were not letting up. It should have been 9, 10. 11 even. But they were merciful. They kept it at 7. Oscar gave the Selección a consolation goal. But it was nothing more.
Ronaldo turned the television off. He’d seen enough. The media would never let this slide. For Christ’s sake when they got knocked out in 2006, it was a total shit storm.
A desecration on our nation’s finest sport
Sheer humiliation
They owe the public an apology
Fenomeno? What Fenomeno?
Fat Ronaldo couldn’t get on the score sheet
Fat Ronaldo squandered his side’s best chance to take the lead in the early stages
Fat Ronaldo goes missing in quarter final show down
Fat Ronaldo? He’ll never be considered among the best in the world
Fat Ronaldo
Fat Ronaldo
Fat
Fat
F…
He buried his face in his hands and stared into the abyss. Numb. A ringing in his ears drowned out the voices in his head.
And then there was melody. A sweet sound from a different realm. A white light crept in, but didn’t startle him. It shone down on a solitary figure in the familiar Nerrazzurri 9. He remembered the year. 1999. Right after that horrific injury against Lazio.
It’s Ronaldo on the ball. Attempts a step over and UFF that looked painful! He’s gone down… and it looks like his game is over just six minutes after coming on.
Radio static.
Then:
Unbelievable scenes here at the Nissan Stadium. Ronaldo Nazario comes back from the brink to put Germany to the sword with a crisp double in a remarkable show of resilience. A magnanimous turnaround for the Phenomenon.
Silence.
The white light went out and Ronaldo stared into darkness again. Slowly, he brought his sweaty palms away from his face, returning to his surroundings.
His private space was minimally furnished. Armchair, a small refrigerator stocked with beers and cold cuts. A giant seventy-five inch television screen sitting above a decorative console. Enlarged pictures, commemorating his best days, sat embedded in brass-edged frames along the walls.
His first World Cup goal against Iceland in 1994.
Wheeling away in celebration, while Oliver Kahn is on his knees
Lifting the World Cup trophy in 2002
Pointing to the crowd in the Corinthians shirt during his final appearance
He was starting to tear up. He needed another beer.
As he reached for a can, an angry buzz filled his ears. And then there were the jeers–a livid mob hurling insults at him and Roberto Carlos after their disappointing Copa Libertadores campaign.
He could still see the graffitied wall outside the training ground; the words “Shameless Fatty” sprawled across the off-white canvas in large, child-like letters. Words that had left an imprint on his heart.
Fat Ronaldo
Fat Ronaldo
Fat
Fat
F…
He summoned all the willpower he could muster to relinquish his grip on the beer can. He slammed the refrigerator door shut. “Four years ago in Milan I found out that I was suffering from a problem that is called hypothyroidism…”
Hypothyroidism: A condition that slows down the metabolism-
Excuses.
For the first time since he hung up his boots, Ronaldo wept. The tears came thick and fast, but he simply allowed them to flow down his cheeks. He had devoted 16 years of his life to football. A game that was at once beautiful and ugly. The game that lifted his spirit. And then broke it.
The people who had once cheered him on emphatically, were the same people that turned their backs on him when things went sour.
Hypothyroidism: A condition that slows down the metabolism-
Excuses.
His favourite was Oliver Kahn on his knees. Begging for mercy as the great Phenomenon bore down on him and mercilessly put away the rebound following Rivaldo’s effort from range.
“Shameless Fatty.”
That damned wall again. It made his blood boil. He glanced down and saw his fists were clenched; the nails digging into his palms. His jaw had tightened as well.
Fat Ronaldo
Fat Ronaldo
Fat
Fat
F…
He let out a scream of anguish, lashing out with his right foot, hitting the bundle of leather right on the sweet spot, sending it flying into that wall of sacrilege.
Explosion. Bricks everywhere. The dust settled, revealing a silhouette of football’s worst nightmare. Taut muscles clinging onto his lean, yet ample frame. Bulging quads accentuated by intense musculature. A goalscoring machine with a killer instinct. The Fenomeno lived within him. The Fenomeno forever.
Just Me Lakhani 
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