Centenaria

Mr. Costa wouldn't want me in during the private practices of Figueira, the Column and Coach Rodrigo. I had to pester him for letting me in. He did it despite himself, when I told him I was only working with Figueira now and had to watch every step he took.

"Yes", he said, "Zangrandi seems to have found the path. I saw that in the last two meets, I saw him do things he'd never do before; his movements are more and more efficient, he seems to be on the top of his initiative. I believe you took the right decision here, to concentrate only on Figueira."

Praise is something I never expect to hear from Mr. Costa. So it's nearly bizarre that he does it. The kids are working out right now. Figueira seems stable, but I can tell there is a shadow of doubt on his face, a shadow of so many issues he has had and will still have to tackle. How do you behave when you know you have to go and spend days with kids that might have even shot people for pleasure. Do you do things with the best of you, or just let them go, sure nothing you'll do will change anything at all? In Figueira's case, it has only served to increase his appetite and initiative to fight, what is positive, but is it more positive for himself or for Corporal? Because if it's true that it'll be good for him, when he finally learns how to win - because it seems evident, by so many testimonials that to fight is something he knows very well - it's also true that he won't enjoy that victory for long when caught in the gloomy corridors of an institute.

It was two p.m. I was in front of the association, looking at the movement on the avenue, when a car maneuvered in front of Corporal, trying to pick a spot for parking. Out from the car there comes a kid in a red cap, carrying a backpack. He is kissed goodbye by a woman inside the car, that drives away as soon Corporal's front door slams shut upon his entrance. He passed by me as if I were the front wall of the house. The Column, in the flesh. I went in to see what would happen next. Already found the practice at a rest, with the Column greeting everyone with a beaming smile, putting away his backpack on a nearby bench in the training room. From upstairs, the sounds of nose blowing I know are coming from Figueira, in his eternal bad cold. The Column looked like someone who meets old friends in a park. Panotti said he had gained weight. Zangrandi looked happy to see his old wrestling friend.

"We have heard the news, seen your photos and videos on Centenaria's site, it's awesome what you're doing nowadays, like, the moves, the way you've been fighting", he said to the Column, "I hope to learn some techniques from you."
The Column smiled and shook hands with him.
"This is why I am here, Zanga. I hope to share and learn things from you too. If I didn't hope to learn I wouldn't have come to train here; my father has transferred the videos to DVD, I'll be sure to send Corporal a copy", I couldn't help but notice he was the only one to call Zangrandi this way.

Morales and Galhardo asked him about techniques he used in his last tournament and the conversation would go far if the Column didn't miss someone in the room.
"Where is my master?", I thought he referred to Rodrigo, who was nearby. The temptation to point at him, right behind the Column gave way to waiting a little more. It was good to wait, because soon I learned he was actually looking for Figueira.
"Your master is in the bathroom right now. He gets nervous with visits", said Panotti in a slightly mocking tone of voice.
"No, not my master Figueira, he is not nervous about me. He was afraid of winning, it's the last I heard of him, but not at all afraid of fighting. How is he?", and the Column looked around, in search.
"I am fine", said a voice from the top of the staircase, "can't a man blow his nose in peace?" The steps started creaking as he came down to meet his old friend. Silence fell upon the room when they finally met and shook hands. I will never forget the way they looked in each other's eye. Neither will the others. A solid eye-to-eye contact, nearly fascinated from each other, as if the two were at once the snakes and the snake charmers.
"How are you, man Column? I can tell you put on a lot of muscles since our last time. Been cutting weight?"
"No, just transforming the same ol' fat into something usable", and the two, and then the others, including Coach Rodrigo, laughed. A moment of relaxation that all of us shared, though I knew all was not only relaxation. The hardest is always yet to come, or so it seems for Figueira.

At 4, I was admitted into the practice room, when the other four had already gone home to see the two training. The Column asked more questions than answered. He was really sturdy, almost monolithic near Figueira. Rather than the mocking-shaking-into-life style of Panotti, what I saw from him to Figueira was a respect I could only foresee a speck of during the conversations we had had about the Column. Figueira's attitude was no different, but there was a tension in the air they couldn't release, restless, taking control little by little as they shared and trained the moves. Rodrigo interrupted the practice to show them a technique or two that could be re-worked. I'm afraid of asking Figueira to my house tonight for our session. Don't know if he is going to face the extra effort today.

Read only memory | Into another

Radio Universal: The Making Of A Thousand Gods.