The first World Cup I remember after beginning to understand football was the 1994 edition. Interestingly, that tournament was also held in the United States.

My father was a devoted Brazil supporter. Since the matches were in the US, they were broadcast late at night in our country. I would often wake up in the middle of the night to find my father sitting in front of the television.

I would join him, sitting on his lap to watch. In one match, Brazil’s Leonardo received a red card. For some reason, that incident made me cry intensely. That was perhaps where my love for Brazil began.

I spent my childhood in a joint family with my uncles, aunts and many cousins. Watching my father and uncles, we siblings also became sports enthusiasts from an early age. As we grew older, the entire family would stay up all night together to watch World Cup matches. Even today, those memories evoke a different kind of emotion.