The name of Carlos Júnior has come up in conversations Botafogo were not part of. Nothing formal, nothing signed — but nothing about it accidental either.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Matheus Martins was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
“I watch every Botafogo game from here. That says everything about where my head is.” The loan at Racing runs its course, but his heart never made the trip.
Nobody at Botafogo will say this on the record and the team sheets have been saying it for weeks. There is a small group in every squad who get picked when the fixture is difficult, and he has joined it.
Another week, another link, another denial nobody quite believes. Botafogo know the market decides these things, not the back pages — but the back pages are louder.
A conversation in the manager’s office, and a commitment that came out of it. Promises like that are cheap to make and expensive to break, and Danilo has written the date down.
The fee was agreed and the flight was looked at — and then the phone stopped ringing. Athletic Bilbao moved on, Danilo reports back to Botafogo, and everybody pretends Monday is just Monday.
“I listened, I thought about it, and I am staying. That is the whole story.” The clubs had agreed a fee. Lucas Monzón had not agreed to go, which turned out to be the part that mattered.
“Things were said to me before I signed. I am not going to repeat them, but I remember all of them.” Botafogo have not answered, which is an answer of sorts.
Botafogo ran out of time with Sport Recife. The paperwork was open when the deadline passed, and a transfer that was almost done is now a transfer that never happened.
17 goals in 21 games at Ludogorets — numbers that travel home faster than he does. Somebody at Botafogo updates a spreadsheet every Monday, and it makes better reading each week.
The oldest argument in any dressing room and the only one that is genuinely about football: one man thinks another is not putting enough in. It is also the row a manager privately does not mind having happened.
Nobody at Botafogo will say this on the record and the team sheets have been saying it for weeks. There is a small group in every squad who get picked when the fixture is difficult, and he has joined it.
In brief
The dugoutJúnior Santos asks for a word with the manager
Everybody at Botafogo saw it before anybody said it, which is how this always goes. At 37 the decline is real and measurable — 3 points — and the only question left is how the club handles somebody it owes a great deal to.
Clubs make promises constantly and the page usually only hears about them when they are broken. This one was honoured, and the dressing room noticed that faster than any supporter did.
Every manager keeps a short list in his head of the men he wants on the pitch when the stakes rise, and it is never published. The team sheets for the big afternoons say Danilo is on it.
São Paulo next, and one man in the Botafogo dressing room knows their training ground better than his own. The reception will tell him what they thought of him.
1‑0 against Atletico Bucaramanga, under lights, against people who do not speak the same language as the crowd. These are the evenings a club measures its decade in, and there are never as many of them as anybody expects.
The hardest thing about being 19 in a senior side is that nobody makes allowances. Álvaro Montoro did not need any: 8.15, and he looked the most comfortable man on the pitch.
7.71, 1 on the scoresheet, and the specific comedy of a back-four player celebrating like somebody who does this every week. He does not, and that is exactly why the ground reacted the way it did.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Cristian Medina was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
The last thing about a transfer that is still about the player is his signature on his own terms, and it is there. Botafogo have lost him in all but the paperwork.
“I have nothing bad to say about this place. I just need to be somewhere else.” It is in writing now, which changes what Botafogo can pretend not to have heard.
“I know what people will say. I know what I want, and it is here.” Enyimba had the fee agreed and the shirt ready; they did not have the player, and now they will not.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at Botafogo heard it as anything else.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Cristian Medina was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
The award is a small thing with a heavy meaning: for four weeks nobody in this division did his job better. Botafogo have the trophy on a shelf and the player in the side.
At 35 he is supposed to be managing his minutes. Instead he was marked 7.96 and looked, for ninety minutes, exactly like the player everybody remembers.
“I want to be playing for trophies while my legs still let me.” Nothing in that sentence is a transfer request, and nobody at Botafogo heard it as anything else.
Alex Telles was at the centre of it, and by the time it was pulled apart there were three or four others involved. Training grounds are small places and long seasons make them smaller.
Somebody said out loud what several people thought about how hard another man trains, and Cristian Medina was in the middle of it. The one dressing-room argument that is genuinely about football.
Ask anyone on the way out what separated the sides and you will get one name: Allan. 3‑1 against Ceará, and the applause at the whistle was mostly his.