Cristiano Ronaldo — Endlessly Proving Oneself

Here Is the First Chapter of My New Book ‘Beyond Cristiano’

At the end of the Northern English summer of 2021, as the days grew shorter, and the evenings began to feel cooler, a wind was blowing through the city of Manchester, bringing a sense of anticipation and excitement among the fans of Manchester United Football Club.

A few days earlier, the club announced that Cristiano Ronaldo had signed a new contract and now, at the age of thirty-six, would return to the city where his steep path towards glory commenced eighteen years ago.

David and Edo, two football-loving friends, originally from Eastern Europe, were enjoying a long passing session in Blackleach Country Park in Walkden, Salford. David was a lifelong, passionate Manchester United fan who had been living in Walkden for over ten years. Edo had arrived more recently and didn’t support any club in particular but loved the game in general. Their different approaches to football represented a big difference in how they perceived the world.

“Nooo!” shouted David as he watched his friend soar heroically through the air attempting a bicycle kick before missing the ball entirely and hitting the ground in dramatic fashion.

“What are you doing, man?” David said in disbelief as he approached Edo, who was now stretched out across the luminous September grass holding his hip.

Edo flipped his skinny body onto his back with a look of shock in his eyes.

“Man?” said David.

“Shhh,” Edo replied, requesting silence as his chest heaved laboriously. Finally, his face turned serene.

“That was crazy,” David said, slumping his stocky frame beside Edo on the grass. “Are you alright, man?”

“Look how peaceful it is,” Edo said, smiling, as the pair of them gazed up at the evening sky.

David’s usual warrior-like, harsh face flashed with innocence as his lips stretched out in a smile. Even the great wrinkle between his eyes, which usually made him look angry, didn’t seem as strained in the fading September sunlight.

“Did you just try to recreate Ronaldo’s overhead kick against Juventus in Turin?” David said mockingly.

“I thought I had it for a moment,” said Edo, still recovering. “It felt right to go for it.”

“You were close,” David said sarcastically.

They continued staring at the sky as the evening sun’s rays bounced off their balding scalps.

“Ronaldo, though — ” David remembered. “What a goal that was! It was the perfect bicycle kick — the composure — jump, kick, technique, style. Only the landing wasn’t ten out of ten. But still, it was a bit better than yours.”

Edo continued to gaze at the golden sun without even looking at David.

“ — and then the epic celebration,” David continued. “Running towards stunned and amazed Juventus fans while spinning his forefinger as if to say, I am the one.”

“The one,” Edo muttered under his still laboured breath.

“The number one,” David repeated, sitting up quickly and pointing toward Old Trafford, the home of Manchester United, which seemed like a tiny red and white dot from where they were. “Ronaldo, welcome home!”

“Did you know Cristiano was an unwanted child?” Edo asked.

David turned to his friend in surprise.

“Unwanted?” he said. “What do you mean?”

Edo cleared his throat.

“Cristiano’s mother, Dolores, wanted to have an abortion when she became pregnant with Cristiano. A doctor refused to do the operation, but Dolores was still determined to abort the baby, so she attempted to do it on her own. She admitted drinking boiled black beer and running until she felt like she would drop.”

“Wow, she said that?” David said. “That’s one honest woman.”

“God’s will is what she calls it today,” Edo continued. “ — the fact she couldn’t abort him.”

David looked at Edo, who was still resting on his back, unmoving.

“Of course, it would have been a real shame if she had succeeded,” David said. “Ronaldo is the greatest. His winning mentality is one of a kind. He always strives for more — to be better. I was made to be the best, he says.”

“What kind of person even says that?” Edo asked rhetorically. He finally turned his head to the right and looked at his friend with joyful, dark eyes which seemed to be completely absorbing the world and looking deeply into what he experienced. “I’ll tell you what kind, David — someone who needs to prove something. A person who feels rejected.”

“I believe such an attitude comes from pure hunger for success,” David retorted.

“Well, I swear it all started in the womb,” said Edo, leaning up onto one elbow.

“The womb?”

“Yes, in his mother’s womb. The moment he experienced that scent of boiled black beer while enjoying his bath in amniotic fluid, he must have been like, You want to get rid of me? I don’t think so!”

“God’s will?” David said, questioning the words of Ronaldo’s mother.

“You will see, mother,” said Edo, dramatically playing the part of foetus Cristiano. “I will be the greatest and make you the greatest mother of all. You will regret spilling beer all over me.”

“So rejection?” David said. “You’re saying that all the answers to Ronaldo’s greatness lie in rejection?”

“All the answers,” Edo said, nodding. “Cristiano once said that winning was still his ultimate ambition, even after four hundred matches for Real Madrid. He believes he was born like that. He had the words El sueño del niño engraved on his boots — The child’s dream.”

“So from the moment he came to the earth, it was obvious,” said David. “From the moment he first kicked a ball, it was clear. The Cristiano Ronaldo mentality was born?”

“It would seem so, David,” Edo said, rubbing his itchy nose.

“But wouldn’t that also mean that a failed abortion is entirely the basis of Cristiano’s greatness?” David asked.

“Ego — ” said Edo with a sigh.

“Ego?” said David screwing up the great wrinkle between his eyes in confusion.

“Yes,” said Edo. “Cristiano’s ego is based on rejection. It’s a matter of life and death for him. It’s about proving to himself and others that he is worthy. Either he is the number one, or life is not worth living. He needs to prove that his life was worth coming into existence.”

“And he does prove it!” David said suddenly.

Edo nodded and continued.

“When Cristiano says that he hates losing, he’s not just saying it for the cameras. He means it one hundred per cent. When he loses, he feels genuine misery and depression. If he deeply believes he was made to be the best, what happens when he doesn’t deliver? If he sincerely believes he was born to be the best, then he has so much room to suffer.”

“Yeah, only one can be the best,” said David.

“Exactly,” said Edo. “Do you remember the final match of Euro 2004 in Portugal?”

“I do remember!” said David. “When Greece, against all odds, beat Portugal on their home ground and won the European Championship!”

“Yes,” said Edo. “Then you must remember the tears of a then nineteen-year-old Ronaldo. Oh, he was so young and in such pain. He didn’t want to exist at that point. How sad he was! I believe those were the most famous tears in footballing history.”

“Yes, I remember,” said David. “Fortunately, he hasn’t lost many finals in his career. I believe he has only lost nine out of thirty-two finals. Some could have gone terribly for him, such as the 2008 Champions League Final in Moscow when he missed that penalty against Chelsea. Thankfully, John Terry slipped while taking the crucial penalty, and we got back in the series to eventually win it.” David sat up, pulled his shirt, kissed the Manchester United badge on his chest and began singing, “Glory, Glory, Man United!”

“Right,” Edo said, still lying down on the grass. “Ronaldo’s teammates saved him, and eventually, he was awarded the Ballon d’Or for the best player in the world that year — his first one! He had fulfilled his ultimate victory — and he doesn’t deserve to be rejected. He deserves to live.”

“He was born to be the best,” David said, echoing Ronaldo’s words. “He is a god of football, any way you look at it. And he knows it.”

“He does know it. He knows he is a god. He knows it!” Edo repeated ironically. “But David, don’t forget, if being a god depends on being better than others, that means one more thing — Satan is dwelling there as well.”

David lay back down again, taking a piece of grass and playing with it in his fingers.

“I don’t see what Satan has to do with this,” said the big man uncomfortably.

“Ego!” Edo exclaimed again, giving a gentle massage to his now-aching hip as if checking for damage.

“What about it?” said David.

“Well,” said Edo. “If Cristiano truly believes he is a god, that is the action of Satan — convincing him of something that inevitably imprisons him with the ego. Because ego restricts your soul — ego suffocates. Ego puts a tight rein on your freedom. Ego divides you from others. Ego makes you a god but for the price of Satan.”

“Go on, my friend,” said David, encouraging Edo to keep philosophising.

Edo nodded and continued.

“To carry the burden of God is not easy. Tell me, David, what happens when a man who believes he is a god must descend from his heavenly abode or, perhaps, when that same man learns there is another who comes from the land of Argentina and is considered by many as the only true football god?”

“Well, he is not happy, I guess,” said David.

“Correct, David,” said Edo. “He is not happy at all. He starts to prove himself. He shows off, convinces, agonises, and tortures himself while constantly stressing and explaining. And Satan? Well, Satan simply observes and enjoys the show. Dance! Dance, oh God Almighty, he says. Now you’re in my world.”

“Wow,” said David, his mouth hanging open in the cool evening air.

“On the other hand,” Edo continued. “Do you know that type of man who is unchained from his ego? — the type of man who doesn’t compare himself to others? — who is okay with who he is? That is a man who knits the net with God — who sings the song of freedom.”

“But Edo,” said David, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “Surely, without such an ego, Cristiano Ronaldo would never have become the greatest. He would never have become the idea of success, and the mythological number seven he carries on his shirt would still be just another number. Nor would Manchester United be what it is. Ronaldo, bring the title home at last!”

If you are curious about how this chapter was evolving, you can find a very old draft of the chapter on this link. I published it on Medium two years ago, but in the meantime it went through multiple editing processes to become what it is today. The final editing and proofreading were done by an amazing author, Frank T Bird.

The book has been published on Amazon, and if you want to read the rest of it, you can buy a copy here:

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