Ciro, a friend at Bar Peneira

By Urariano Mota

I’m not saying that Ciro has always been my friend, because no friendship is formed from the very first encounter. Friendship is built—and in such a way that, at first, we don’t even realize we’re friends. So I’ll say that from the very first time Ciro served me at my table at Bar Peneira, I was drawn to his attentiveness, kindness, and efficiency. At the bar, it doesn’t even seem like he’s walking—he practically runs, his steps so quick and nimble.

That’s why I nicknamed him Ciro, Sport’s star player, who brought so much joy to the fans. It was partly because of his appearance, too, since—just like the red-and-black player—the newcomer was slim, tall, and turned at the first call:

- Ciro, please!

He showed up right away at the table. Later, I realized that Ciro wasn't a Sport fan, and that he also called me by the same nickname at the bar:

- Ciro's check!

That’s how things were until Lula’s campaign for the second round of the election. That’s when I was warned that people had found out about our friendship. On October 17, 2026, I got into a heated argument at the bar that was about to turn into a physical fight—a brawl in which I could have at least been knocked out. At one of the tables, a bearded, burly man shouted at me:

– The election results will be close. But Bolsonaro will win!

I, wearing a T-shirt with Lula’s number 13 on it, replied:

– It’s still too early to say that.

And the guy, already yelling:

– I know a thing or two about polls. Bolsonaro’s going to win!

He stood up from the table and lunged at me:

– I have a Ph.D. in statistics! I don’t argue with ignoramuses!

That’s when Ciro proved himself to be my friend. He took me by the arm, led me to the bar’s door, and advised me:

- Don’t waste your time with Bolsonaro supporters, Ciro. Just let it go.

Then, last week, he showed me his real identity on a piece of paper where he had written:

“Carlos Antonio das Neves Junior. Age 29 – 10/09/1997”

But it’s no use. I’ll never be able to call him Carlos, Antonio, or Júnior, as they call him at Bar Peneira. To me, he’ll always be the Ciro who saved this friend of his from being killed in a political fight. We’re on the same team, one way or another. To me, even today, Ciro quietly roots for Sport, even though he says he roots for Santa Cruz.