Chapter IX Alfio, the Coach Saying it was one thing but doing it was another. Luisa and Simone went looking for a team who would take Diego, but all they found was closed doors. “Honestly, I don’t think I can take this responsibility, I’m sorry” was the standard answer, a broken record. To the point that the parents were about to lose all hope. “Maybe we shouldn’t say it” Said Luisa with rage, after yet another useless attempt “I mean, nobody would even notice.” “No – said Simone – there’s nothing to hide. And it would seem to me we’re running from reality. It wouldn’t be fair, especially to Diego.” Until they met Alfio. He used to play in the Roma Junior, he was born in Primavalle with his heart red and yellow. He was a promising footballer, destined to be a star, before a brutal intervention in the penalty area broke his ligaments and his dreams. Alfio’s breakaway ended there, on that damn tuff field, in the suburbs. So he started working at his father’s shop, as an electrical mechanic, but his love for football never stopped and he took some courses to become a young team’s trainer. For three days a week he was the coach and he directed the trainings. The kids had great respect and a bit of awe towards him, this big, tall man. When Luisa and Simone met him, his only words were “No probs. Diego can train with us.” “Sir, did you hear us? He’s diabetic.” “Who cares. If he’s good, if he trains, if he commits, he’s gonna play. If he doesn’t, that’s what the bench is for. Those are the rules. Diabetes or no diabetes.” And so, the next Tuesday, Diego was on the field. He was more excited than he had ever been before. Luisa was going in the lockers room with him, to help, but Alfio stopped her. “Ma’am, now, here, I’m in charge. Diego, get your bag and come with me.” As soon as he got into the lockers’ room, everyone went quiet. “Ok kids, silence now. This is Diego and he’s new. Diego has a problem, a disease called diabetes. If I ever see you treating him any differently than all the other, not getting tight while guarding, not pushing him
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