A real fan doesn’t pass cloth, it shows when the club is wrong

Since 1910, Sport Club Corinthians Paulista has been creating a legion of faithful, crazy, purple fans, always increasing with each title or defeat because, for the Corinthians fans from the beginning of the last century onwards, fans were showing something different from the supporters of the other teams: the passion!

A love that didn’t diminish and that didn’t even give up, even without winning a title for 22 years —from 1954 to 1977.

I was born in 1963 and broke the taboo against Santos on 3/6/1968, with goals from Paulo Borges and Flávio. I was 4 years old at the time, but I was already seeing several Corinthians players up close because my uncle (Ney) was dating — later they got married — Rose (aunt), niece of the historical defender of the Timão Ditão. I even went to Ditão’s wedding and I was with several players from that time and it was incredible.

I also went through the great sadness of 1969 with the deaths of winger Lidu and left winger Eduardo, who had a direct influence on that São Paulo championship because Corinthians was the leader and was playing a lot.
Going through this tragedy, my father took me to watch a game of our Corinthians at the stadium for the first time on 27/7/1970 –Corinthians 1 x 1 Ponte Preta in Parque São Jorge goals from Lima (Timão) and Manfrini (Ponte Black).

Then we reached the semifinal of the 1972 Brazilian Championship and played for a tie in Maracanã against the strong Botafogo. We lost 2-1, but with a header by defender Baldochi that the referee gave up (they robbed us).

But, okay, the fans grew more and more, and the nickname “sufferers” arrived. The expectation of a title increased because, in addition to having the greatest player in the club’s history, Roberto Rivellino, at his peak, Vicente Matheus made important signings.

In the space between 1972 and 1974, Baldochi, Brito and Roberto Miranda (three-time champions) arrived, joining Ado, Zé Maria and Rivellino, who were also three-time champions.

Thus, we reached the long-awaited final of the 1974 Paulista Championship against the great rival Palmeiras, which was, simply, the second academy and we lost by 1 x 0, Ronaldo’s goal.

It was a letdown and a general revolt because we trusted and wanted that title no matter what.

At that time, it was rare to show games live on TV. I was with my father listening to the final on the stack radio and when the goal was scored, my father threw the radio against the wall and cried.

That defeat made Corinthians commit one of the greatest injustices in its history. Blaming and practically expelling the greatest player in Corinthian history Roberto Rivellino.

I was 11 years old and it was at that moment that I completely understood that “being a Corinthians fan is going beyond being or not being the first” as the brilliant Toquinho sings.

Walking the path of fans, we reached the final of the Brazilian Nationals for the first time in 1976 with a good team, but much inferior to the Internacional of Rubens Minelli and Falcão. We lost, but that had no influence on our enthusiasm, because our final was a week earlier, when we eliminated the “tricolor machine” in the middle of Maracanã and our trophy was the invasion taking over half of the stadium, and it was the most incredible party I’ve ever seen. I saw the team entering the field.

Alright, we felt like a title was on the way when the magical year of 1977 rolled around.

I went to several classics at Morumbi and I was at Cícero Pompeu de Toledo’s attendance record, on a sunny Sunday, in the 2-1 defeat on the day that, perhaps, the Corinthian fans were more sure that we would be champion of São Paulo.

But it wasn’t until Wednesday and finally came that feeling that only the oldest, like my father, had ever felt, that internal heat, high heartbeat, sweating, and our most awaited scream came out

Afterwards, we repeated the dose in 1979 and became a competitive team again and one of the favorites for titles.

During that whole time, I watched several games because I played in the preliminary and stayed to watch the games. In 1982, I moved from the stands to the field when the most important moment in the history of world football came about: Corinthians’ democracy.

We were two-time São Paulo champions (1982/1983) playing spectacular and world-renowned football, as well as our movement. A group where everyone had the same importance and which enchanted everyone.

In 1982 we had the best defense, the best attack, the two main scorers in the championship. I scored 28 goals and Magrão, 21, in two we scored 49 goals in the same championship, and we became Sócrates and Casagrande, the highest level of an area duo.

The following year, it was as peaceful as that, but Magrão demonstrated, in the finals of that championship, all his genius and class, and we won the 1983 title.

The first semester of 1984 was the last moment of the initial team of Corinthian democracy. Magrão went to Fiorentina and I, to São Paulo, but after our incredible participation in the Diretas Já movement. I still played in 1985 and 1986, but not much because I stayed with the national team more than with Corinthians and I went to Europe.

I returned in 1993 to play for Flamengo and when I came to play for Pacaembu against Corinthians it was that surprise that went down in history with the Corinthians fans singing: “VOLTA CASÃO, YOUR LUGAR É NO TIMÃO”. “DOCTOR, I’M NOT WRONG, CASAGRANDE IS A CORINTIAN”.

It was the greatest demonstration of affection and love that the Corinthian fans had done for a player who was wearing the opponent’s shirt.

Those fans recognized me as a player/fan because many saw me play at base and saw me in the stands cheering for our team.

For those who don’t know, I’m the last player raised in Terrão who played in every category for Corinthians.
In 1976 and 1977 I played the last two championships in the official milk tooth category for the Federation, which was shown live by the extinct TV Tupi, and then, despite being very precocious, I played in all categories until I reached the professional level. When I was champion and top scorer in 1982, I could play three more São Paulo Cups.

Why did I write all this?

Because it was this Corinthians that I fell in love with when I was 4 years old and also this Corinthians that I gave myself to in every game that I entered wearing our team’s shirt since I was 10 years old.

And I never thought that Sport Corinthians Paulista, which has always been on the right side of history, a team for the people, for minorities, which has always fought for democracy, would hire a coach involved in a rape. It doesn’t matter how old it was, and who denies it even with a conviction, even with an article in a Swiss newspaper citing that they found traces of his semen in the body of a 13-year-old girl — as reported today’s text from Juca Kfouri’s column.

That crime is rape, Mr. Cuca plays a character with a soft voice, concerned about the family, upright, but never worried about how the girl is doing and even claims that he doesn’t need to apologize to society.

This is the new Sport Club Corinthians Paulista, also formed by a large group of new fans who see no harm in a guy involved in a rape, lying to everyone’s face, live, and who attack people who ask for the truth.

The essence of the Corinthian spirit is being lost, the ideals of a people’s club are dissolving.

Along with fake Corinthians websites, I see Duílio Monteiro Alves as largely responsible for tarnishing the history of Sport Club Corinthians Paulista.

A crowd that extended a banner for amnesty to prisoners and political exiles, who cheered and cheered with the titles and with the charming football of Corinthian democracy, but it was not firm as it had been in great moments of its history.

Everything passes in people’s lives and sometimes love ends, dating ends, a marriage comes to an end and all that’s left is the longing for the beautiful things that lived together, but the disappointment leads to the end of the wonderful and long feeling.

There, the chorus of a song by the also brilliant Paulinho da Viola makes perfect sense: “IT WAS A RIVER THAT PASSED IN MY AND MY HEART LET IT BE CARRIED”.

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