When Julia and I planned our trip to Brazil, we turned to our friend Will for advice. Will was born and raised in Rio de Janeiro and was a huge help in planning the itinerary. Also, when he learned we were going to visit his hometown, Will offered for us to stay at his father’s place in Rio. As luck would have it, his father was traveling to Chicago at the same time we were heading to Brazil. Will’s cousin, who lived nearby, was tasked with meeting and handing us the keys to the apartment.
Our Brazilian trip started in São Paolo, and after a few days there, we arrived in Rio. After taking a cab to the apartment building and introducing ourselves to the doorman, we were asked to wait. Ten minutes later, the cousin appeared, all smiling and waving to us. Her husband followed her, carrying a bag that looked oddly overstuffed for a quick visit. This charming couple, with infectious smiles, gave us a tour of the apartment, chatting in a mix of Portuguese and English. Pictures of teenage Will adorned the walls and shelves, and it was strange to see a 6’4" well-built man as a scrawny teenager. The tour of the apartment finished on the balcony, which provided stunning views of the city. The day was unbelievably hot, the temperature soaring to 100 degrees. As we thanked Will’s relatives for taking the time to take care of us, the man opened the bag, retrieved a black jacket, and handed it to me.
“What is it?" I was perplexed.
“This is your welcoming gift,” he said. “Flamengo jacket. Flamengo is one of four futbol teams in Rio and the club I root for.”
I took a closer look, and it was beautiful: double-sided, black on the outside and white on the inside, with the elaborate club emblem of interlocked letters C, F, and R, standing for Clube de Regatas do Flamengo (an official name of the club and a reminder that the club was initially established as a rowing club). The jacket was for cooler days, not for 100-degree weather.
I couldn't believe the generosity of this stranger. On some level, I even felt uncomfortable. Not only were we getting a free apartment for 5 days, but we were also showered with such cool gifts. The cousin and her husband urged me to try it on. Despite profusely sweating through my shorts and T-shirt in the 100-degree heat, I couldn't say no. I put the jacket on and—oh my God—it fit me perfectly. The man kept smiling and then jokingly said that I was one of them now. He complimented the jacket and insisted we take a picture. Standing on the balcony with me dressed in a warm Flamengo jacket, we hugged like old friends and grinned into the camera. His wife snapped a few pictures and handed the phone back to her husband. He checked the pictures, nodded approvingly, and wished us a wonderful time in Brazil.
Julia and I then went to explore Rio, and every day, we would see someone wearing Flamengo’s black-red-white colors. I would then excitedly point to Julia that I rooted for the same team in Brazil as these random strangers. I also went on Wikipedia and read about the storied history of the team.
We had a blast in Brazil and enjoyed every day of our two-week stay. The time bomb was waiting for us when we came back to Chicago. Upon returning, we visited Will and his family to tell them about our trip and to thank them for the apartment.
As we were telling our Brazilian stories to Will and his wife, Will looked me straight in the eye, sighed deeply, and said:
“Victor, Flamengo’s fans are scum, and the club is shit. My cousin’s husband and I have been on opposing sides of this turf war since the beginning. He gave you the jacket just to troll me! He’s been sending me a picture of you in that damn thing every day!”
Julia burst out laughing, and I was momentarily taken aback. But I quickly regained my composure.
“I'm sorry, but you now offend my feelings as a new Flamengo fan. I'm a fan for life now. Flamengo ‘Till I Die.”
Everyone, including Will, laughed at this unexpected bravado.
His wife later filled us in. She told us that once the cousin’s husband took that picture with me dressed in Flamengo colors, he immediately sent the picture to Will and accompanied it with multiple emojis of a middle finger and a laughing face. Will, who supports Vasco da Gama—one of the other four clubs in Rio and archrival of Flamengo—yelled and screamed profanities in both English and Portuguese, cursing his sneaky relative who recruited me as a supporter of the despicable Flamengo team.
Every time now we see Will, I make sure to check on Flamengo news and scores ahead of time, just in case he decides to talk futbol. For some reason, he never does.
