The writer laughs Ricardo Bejarano González He confesses that his father made him a fan of Millonarios, he remembers that the first time they took him to the stadium was when he was six years old and little by little he gave his life to the ball. It was in 2000 when he fell in love with Boca Juniors, he felt his heart speed up; Locked in his room he watched a final between the blue team and Real Madrid, it was there where He decided that he would live by and for the ball.
With a tone of pride and at the same time of nostalgia, he confesses: ‘Football taught me to understand life’. He remembers the bitter World Cup he experienced in ’98 when the Brazil team lost against France. At that moment he cried bitterly, it was then that he learned through football that life always gives revenge, that sometimes it is a matter of waiting and that in the end, it will always be worth it, because sooner or later the opportunity arrives.
After the match was over and he finally dried his tears, he confessed to his father that he dreamed of becoming a professional soccer player. He played at the Ecopetrol school and then on the Parmalat team: a project that brought several Argentine coaches. Justo received the team uniform from Jorge Amado—one of the first coaches—who gave him the shirt with the number 10, the same one with which the great Diego Armando Maradona played.
It was there where he decided that he would live for the ball.
He went through the Santa Fe school and debuted in several Argentine teams. His greatest frustration was when upon returning to Colombia they gave an ultimatum to his father, Vidal Bejarano; If he wanted to see his son play on big teams, he had to pay so that he could realize that dream, it was around twenty-five million pesos. The dream of continuing to be immersed in the fields was fading, dissipating. His father, who always bet on his merit, flatly refused to do so.
Photo:Catalina Salazar Silva
A chronic fatigue burst into Bejarano’s life, leading him to experience intense and deep pain. For the first time thought about death, he refused to tell his uncles and the rest of his family, only his parents and his wife Catalina, his partner in eternal struggles, knew. He lived locked in his room, spending hours looking at the ceiling, reading some biographies of soccer players or coaches. At night the words of ‘professor’ Cesar Luis Menotti echoed: “He who crosses the garden avoiding the 90 degree angle, steps on the flower and arrives faster; he who crosses the 90 degree angle takes longer, but does not harm flowers”.
So many years of traveling roads, visiting different stadiums, dressing in different uniforms, so many anecdotes to capture on paper; If there is one thing he has been sure of all these years, it is that with football the goals are celebrated, the applause from the stands. Also on gray days, when a goal is something impossible to achieve, painful silences are heard that turn into stabs, and turn out to be the worst punishment for the fans. Therefore, through soccer, he understood a new way of understanding life and valuing it, even if he had to learn to sit on the bench, watching from afar others’ plays as our own.
When the disease took over every part of his body, he thought about the countless battles he fought throughout his life, always accompanied by the ball. Therefore, in ‘Stories to the letter’ He engages in a ninety-minute conversation with readers, in which he presents the premise about whether it is possible to learn values through football. In one of his stories titled ‘the metaphor of the bank’ exposes the story of a man who tells how selfish one can be, even on the field.
“Likewise, I am going to reveal, with the pardon of my dear disgraces, that the seated players do not want the teammate who is in their position to do well. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar. If a teammate does poorly, they “They know they are going to enter, it’s that simple. What incongruity! They want the team to win, but with them on the green grass and not on the cement.” Through this character who has no name, you know the player, the monster on the field, you know the human being who, sometimes, just wants to shine and often wants to step on the flower to reach the goal faster, become On the one hand, it requires a lot of courage, which is why very few achieve it as the wise Menotti said.
While he was locked in those four walls and at the same time he gave life to these twenty-seven characters, he remembered that lesson that took him away from the courts, he remembered that languid day when they gave him the news of the death of his sister Estefanía, it eternalized her through the story ‘Estefanía’s ballet’ which, he confessed, was the one that cost him the most to write. There she tells the story of a girl who dreams of becoming like Martha, the best player at that time in Brazil, while her mother insists that she practice ballet because soccer is for ‘tomboys’, she is clear, she plays better than her brother. older, he manages to make the best plays in the hall of his house.
These twenty-seven stories are a tribute to the field, to the fans who do not miss a single Sunday to cheer on their team, they are an attempt to revive the values lost along with this exciting sport. It is a tribute to the player, to the pressure, the defeats and the revenges they face on and off the court. Bejarano confesses that there were many nights in which he repeated out loud the phrase of maestro Marcelo Bielsa: “Evaluations should not be made based on what one obtains, but rather on what one deserves.”
VERÓNICA CHAFYRTTH
CULTURE JOURNALIST
TIME
@LACHAFYRTTHS
