The F's That Matter

The first F that I came across is of course my Father. My hero, my guide, my friend and above all my confidante. It is always him that I want to impress and even a hint of a crease on his forehead makes me cringe with guilt. They say we look alike and have the same traits. But I believe he outshines me in every way. Be it persistence or perseverance.

The second F is again introduced to me by him. Through him I got to know that 20 men chasing after a ball was known as "Football”. Since then, it has been a part of my existence.

1998:

Baba told me about this whole new entity called "Brazil”. I saw how his eyes lit up when he spoke

about the team. It was like a dream he was narrating about a poor country which had nothing but cocoa and football. It had a hero called "Pele”, but he was old. Brazil needed a new hero and one man was showing all the possibilities of being that. It was the majestic Phenomenon (oops, another F), popularly known as R9-Ronaldo Nazario De Lima. He was the Ronaldo, I fell in love with. Bald, well built, gaped teeth and that magical feet.He won the matches and so did me and my father's belief on that team.

Day before the finals, my father took me a to a parlour to get an ear piercing, because Fenomeno had one. The day arrived and my hero was off game and Brazil lost and like every story had an anti-hero, in mine it was Zinedine Zidanne. He was our common enemy now. For me and Baba and my hero needed a redemption.

Fast forward to 2002:

My hero is back, with renewed vigour, operated knee, a half triangle haircut and a namesake. The second hero, Ronaldinho Gaucho. R10.Keep in mind that I am just about to be 10, so don't judge me. Gaucho, the ball artist, the dribbler, the funny looking guy with his long hair, who took that historic free kick against England in the quarters and we were in the semis facing Turkey.. Though it was Germany that waited for us in the finals. With no goals in the first half, fear started creeping in. But in the second half my hero proved why he was the Fenomeno.It was a win that changed my life

and bonded me to this team forever.

2006: The squad was brilliant with R9, R10, Rivaldo, Kaka and much hyped Nike advertisement of Jogo Bonito. But again the anti-hero won. That glorious, talented anti-hero. Back then I hated him so much. But the ending of his career because of that inglorious head-butt, still rings 'unfair' .Metarazzi, the salacious ass hole. Still now, it’s hard to accept that the anti-hero evokes a sense of respect irrespective of the hatred.

2010: All my heroes were gone and Ricardo could do very little with those injuries and we lost to Netherlands. I had new anti-heroes now. Robben and Schneider and a newly found love in Xavi-Iniesta. Did I mention the list of my crushes??

Del Piero

Paulo Maldini

Roberto Baggio

Robin Van Persie

David Villa

Zlatan Imbramovich (The Lion)

To name a few.

And as I was learning the complexities of life and competition, the third F made things a bit easier.

Yes, you guessed it right. Friends.I only has a handful but again it’s always been quality over quantity. I don't know how life would have been if I did not find these crazy bunch of people. By this time, the fourth F has already taken a deep root in my life. Fashion. And again thanks to my old man who had a collection of shoes, suits, and tie and always had eye for things which were a bit offbeat.

Styling things in an unconventional way to coloring my locks to fiery red and purple.

I was heavily reliant on my instincts. A phase of heavy kohl rimmed eyes followed by "red is my middle name-lips" to "no makeup phase" to "sab moh-maya hain".

Fashion has been a part and parcel of life. Fast forward to 2014 and a humiliating defeat to Germany

with a 7-1 scoreline. I was a grown up now, so it was time for the fifth and the final F. The subtle art of not giving a "Fuck". Trust me it was so tough. But then my friends stepped up and taught me how not to yield to everything that forms a legitimate sentence to our eardrums. I missed my heroes. I wanted them to come back and show the world that they were indeed the best, but they were old now. Everyone said, it was just a game, but it was more than that. It was my childhood which was drifting away every day. Others humiliated "Brazil Fans" every day with their patent 7-up comments and we learned to say "Fuck off" even louder...

And now as I am getting older, and my heroes are 20 years ahead of me, I still cling to all these F's and hope for a desperate Brazilian win and continue the legacy with my children. And now when they say What do you know about Football?" You can guess which of the F's I use.

Grazie.