Dani can't remember a life without football.
In his earliest memory—maybe at three or four years old—he kicks a tiny football at the outside wall of their house, cheering as his older cousin dramatically misses the shot.
"¡GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL! ¡de las Chivas!" The audio of the match being watched inside lines up with the timing of his goal. Dani takes it as a sign to do an extra victory lap around the garage, running with his arms outstretched. His family huddled around the television cheer.
Dani pretends they're for him.
When he is six, his great-grandmother dies. It's the first time he remembers seeing his father cry. His right leg shakes endlessly during the funeral. His mother occasionally places her hand on his right knee in an attempt to stop it, but it resumes shaking the moment she releases it. His oldest sister glances at him out of the corner of her eye. Dani stops shaking his leg.
He follows his parents around at the reception, making sure to greet everyone properly with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Most people direct their condolences to his father, but there are a few comments about his growth thrown his way. Finally, after greeting everyone, he tugs on his dad's sleeve and points at the rudimentary football pitch behind the house. There's two kids kicking around a football.
His dad gives him a smile. "Go ahead, have fun," he gives him a light slap on the butt.
Dani runs off with a smile to play with the living.
Dani plays football every day after school. His mother never asks him where he is anymore, she always knows where to find him.
"Dani, you forgot your sweater!" His mother waves his Chivas jacket in the air. The red and white stripes of the Guadalajara team reflect the afternoon sun.
"Can you leave it next to my backpack? Gracias mamá."
His mother dutifully drops the sweater next to his backpack. "Don't be late!"
He gives a nod and wave to his mother as he lines up the shot.
Dani scores.
He plays a match with the older boys in the club after practice. They're taller, stronger and can run circles around him on their best days, but playing with them is fun. Sometimes, he can steal the ball from them, catch the goalkeeper off guard, weave his way through their defence. Those days are the best.
If he does well enough, they invite him to tag along after to the ice cream shop nearby. One of the older boys will pay for his treat—a responsibility they rotate between themselves. Dani always orders the same thing: a nieve de limón. He enjoys the way the lime-flavoured ice feels in his mouth, refreshing after exhausting himself on a hot day.
It's on a day like that where he tells them about his dream to represent México on the world stage. It's so quiet he can hear the crunch of the ice as he grabs a spoonful. For a moment, he wonders if they'll laugh at him.
"Hey, why are you telling us something we already know?" Memo gives him a slap on the back. Soon enough, the others join in, mussing his hair and chanting his name.
Dani remembers the way it sounded when he closes his eyes to fall asleep.
The first time he visits the Estadio Azteca is with the Under-17 national team. It's the last match of the FIFA U-17 World Cup and the energy is electric. Despite the massive crowds, Dani doesn't feel intimidated; it's invigorating. He's the youngest player on the squad, just a few weeks away from his 16th birthday, but that hasn't stopped his coach from giving him time on the pitch and the opportunity to score a few goals.
He jogs onto the pitch, delighting in how the crowd roars. There are far more people than he can imagine—more than 84 thousand—here to watch him play. Here to watch them win.
He puts a hand to his heart and hears them sing.
Mexicanos, al grito de guerra…
The same year that he watches the U-23s win the Men's Football tournament at the London Olympics is the same year that he signs a contract with the Tigres junior team.
His mother is crying, his father too.
"I think they're happier than when I got into university," mutters Lupita. His eldest sister, Julieta, recently graduated and moved to Mexico City for her new job. Lupita has been off at Tecnológico de Monterrey for the last year, studying for a degree in Computer Science.
Dani smiles, turning to her. "Can I move in with you, please?"
"Fine," her tone is flat, but she's smiling. "You better find your own place for next year though."
"I will!" He promises.
His promotion to the senior team is the moment he knows he's made it. For the first time in his life, he's playing football in the highest professional capacity in the biggest league in the country. It's also the first time he plays with people who aren't as in love with football as he is.
"It's just a job," states Pancho, "it pays the bills."
"You're wrong." Replies Dani. "Football is everything! Playing football means you're alive!"
Pancho shrugs. "It's our job."
Dani wonders what makes Pancho feel alive instead.
Even when he steps off the plane, it doesn't feel real. He's in Europe to play football. As his job. On a stage far more visible than Liga MX. He's excited to play for Richmond FC. It isn't a team that he heard of prior to being scouted by them, but he's excited to start playing for them.
London is a magical place.
It's also where he manages to put himself out of commission for the first time in his career. He hates being unable to play football.
"Hey," one of his new teammates—Sam—peaks his head in. "They're watching a match in the other room, want to come?"
Dani grins. "Of course."
"Oh, you can teach us that song you were singing last time too."
Dani swings his arm around Sam. "Sounds great, amigo."
Isaac hands them a beer when they enter. Dani lets himself sink into the sofa. The game drones on in the background while they discuss and cheer.
Even though he's not currently playing, Dani feels alive.