The violinist ace
Geraldo Romualdo da Silva | 29/12/1938

There are names of glory in South American football. Names that not even the flight of time has been able to destroy. One of them is Raimundo Orsi. How long have you heard the name of Mumo Orsi spoken? Statistics point to his first feat in times that are long gone, in the most beautiful phase of continental soccer. So, few people knew what professionalism meant, and the Old World, cradle of this sport made for strong men, did not know, in turn, the natural inclination that was born in each leg of the Latin of these new places...

Orsi was part of the first "baggage" required by Fascio, to standardize the Italian Association. He went to the Peninsula, still a boy, but carrying on his shoulders a chain of deeds only comparable to that of the "old" Héctor Scarone.

Among his glories, the glories of a child, only attended by twenty-three springs, we could mention several Argentine, Rio-Platanese championships and even a vice world championship. He was the "number 1" winger of his homeland and the impending loss meant an unfillable void in the squadron of the alvi-celeste jacket.

This boy is still a pibe today. On the field, he gives the impression of a teenager, of the artful child who learned football in the peladas, where a corner of the street and the dim light of the gas lamp used to reserve more adventures than the court lit and surrounded by cement seats...

Orsi is the eternal pibe, the boy who never became a man. So childish that fortune fell defeated at his feet.

Orsi: I never thought of money.

» Few people know how and under what conditions I became an Italian citizen. Do not think that under the influence of dictatorial decrees. Which one! This never happened. When I came to be considered as the greatest player in Italy, and the presence of my person became mandatory in the Azzurraa. The only thing I demanded was the preservation of my nationality rights. But the people, the people who loved me so much, cried out crying Orsi's name...

» The will of the people was satisfied. And Orsi defended the squadra nazionale without ceasing to be porteño...

» It was a triumphant start. Champion for Juventus, world champion, again champion for the club I defended. One day I was urged — the proprietor of a café concert — to attend his trading house daily, in exchange for what, I could see, a thousand lire.

» A thousand lire for a cup of coffee and a few minutes sitting comfortably in a wicker chair!

BUT TEMPTATIONS CAME

Orsi continues narrating:

Orsi: I was already a millionaire. Real millionaire. I owned cars, well-installed houses, everything.

» One thing was missing and that thing I also possessed to my financial doom. I went to England, bought horses. I played. I won, I won again. Fortune increased. It created me a second Rockefeller...

» Another day, faster than the arrival, it was gone. But it did not leave me without my clothes...

BIGGEST VENTURE AND BIGGEST PRIDE...

» There is, however, for everything a law of compensation. So my last day of glory in Italy was one of supreme joy. I remember that we were in line, in the center of the field to start the salute to King Victor Emmanuel, having a World Cup final. My son, the team's "mascot", had not appeared at the time of the official greeting. Suddenly, the ceremony begins. The team runs towards the tribune of honor, turns to the supporters, and nothing...

» I felt a heaviness in my chest, breaking my heart. Instantly, I see him undecided, at the tunnel door, in a different attitude. He was visibly nervous. He runs like mad onto the lawn. He greets the king, turns to the supporters, greets the audience. There were screams. A hellish racket filled the great square. Men who wanted to step over the fence to hug my little boy. This afternoon, the happiest afternoon of Raimundo Orsi's life, Italy was crowned world champion. Not even the hundreds of medals, the diploma awarded by the Duce and the compliments of the "kings" of football when we played in England, made me so happy...

» The most interesting thing is that, even today, I live from this memory. The most grateful, the sweetest of all my life...