Its 4 oclock and the big plastic bottles are filled with beer or Vinola, the mixture a red wine and cola. The booze goes without a break from hand to hand. Fidel has been drinking for some hours already.
There is a game going on between Suárez and Libertador. Two neighbourhoods 20 blocks away from each other. "In my team plays a goalkeeper of 62 and he is good," says Fidel.
I join the game for 5 minutes till Fidel takes me out to play the last 10 minutes completely drunk. Its not that bad because my condition is horrible and I havent played for six months. I sit down between the other substitutes. They give me a bottle of Vinola without asking. Continuously they walk up and down to the kiosk to fill the bottles. We talk about football and football and some boys are filling up their nose constantly.
"How old are you," a boy asks me at one moment. "What do you think," I answer. He is completely wrong. But its clear, I have all my teeth and my face is still intact.