ME and The Captain
...d attempt at sounding out English, and his thick Mexican accent made his words almost unintelligible, but I still said yes. Still unaware of exactly what was happening, I found myself being dragged down the street by my arm by this seemingly crazed pirate of the streets intent on bringing me to some bounty, something that I hoped involved soccer. As he navigated me through the waves of people who were crashing against my body, I began to wonder where the hell I was headed. After what seemed like fifty paces, we took a left by the skeleton of an old car in an alleyway. Down this new street we came to a building; it was neither marked with an X, unless you count the graffiti marking the walls, nor anything that pertained to soccer. As I stood at the foot of my bounty, I thought back to why I had agreed to join this buccaneer on his trip. Do I play soccer? Why does he even care? The questions were ringing in my ears, begging me to decipher it for its real meaning. What could he have said that with my acceptance had brought us to this site? “Do you play soccer,” he repeated his question, more slowly this time, and he pointed out towards a giant X on the sign hanging above my head that I initially missed in our haste. It was then that I knew what he had intended. The code was cracked in my head, and I knew what I had agreed to. I had hoped this hunt would lead me to some hidden treasure, but it ended with disappointment. My treasure chest was not empty but contained coal for all I cared. There were no hidden treasures of cheap cleats, balls, or other even replica jerseys. He had no interest in my soccer skills, and furthermore, soccer wasn’t called soccer down here anyway; it was called futebol. What possibl...