My mom took my hand. I felt nervous. I was inside Morumbi, São Paulo's Stadium. That was my first time in a football stadium, and it felt exceedingly packed. But everyone was happy and excited, probably because that was the last game of the brazillian league and São Paulo was already the season champion. The game was more like a festive match, and everybody was just waiting to see the trophy that would be displayed after the match.

My mom started walking, pulling my attention at the same time. As I looked up, I saw two people coming our way, and then taking us to some cabin upstairs. That was a privilege of being brother of the team's star player, I think.

Moments after me and my mother got set, the match started. The game was going pretty easy, with São Paulo taking a 3-0 lead in the first half. And then came the second half. And then came another goal. Everything seemed perfect. I took a look at the watch. There was only 11 minutes left of game time. And at this exact moment, I heard the commentator's voice. But it felt strange. 'There's something wrong'.

"What is he doing? he's running at the wrong direction. The ball is not there. He seems strange. Maybe he is already intoxicated with the feeling of being champion? Hahahah-- OH MY GOD!! HE JUST FELL TO THE GROUND! Bruno just fell to the ground!! His clutching his heart?! OH MY GOSH! WHERE ARE THE DOCTORS? HURRY!! HE DOESN'T SEEM WELL..."

After that, I couldn't understand what he was saying. I just felt worried. Very worried. I was starting to panic. Then I took a look at my mom. She seemed even more worried. Her face was petrified in a very ugly way. Then she seemed to sense me staring. She looked at me, her face got a little better. But very little. And I knew that it was serious. Right at this time, some working staff appeared and took us to a car, and we headed to the nearest hospital, right behind the ambulance that was transporting my brother. Things seemed very bad.

One day later

We were in an hospital room. Me, my brother Bruno and my mother. The atmosphere was tense. Too tense. Then someone knocked on the door and came in. It was a Doctor. He had a serious look on his face, which made me afraid.

"The results of the exams are out. As said before the surgery, you have a heart problem. We managed to contain it through the surgery, but, unfortunately, is doesn't have a cure. I'm afraid that you will live the rest of your life with this condition. I'm sorry."

I looked at my brother. He seemed surprisingly calm. But he took the news and remained silent. For a minute. Then 2. Then for 10 entire minutes. And then, he spoke:

"I knew it. When my heart started to ache, I just knew it...Hey Doc... I need to hear you say it..."

At this moment, my brother looked very serious. I had never seen he so serious in his entire life. Never.

"Are you saying... that I can't continue to play football? Never again?"

He spoke with a cold tone. A felt afraid. I don't know of what exactly I was afraid, but I was.

"...yes. That is what I'm saying. I'm very sorry."

Having said that, the Doctor gave my brother an respectful salute, and left the room.

And at the exact same time, my brother, who seemed so brave and calm, crumbled.