The Next El Fenômeno

In the heart of Milan, in the shadow of San Siro, a boy danced with a ball like it was part of him. No drills. No cones. Just instinct, and fire.



His name was Enzo Sky Vito.



Barely 10, already dribbling past teenagers. His feet moved faster than the eye. Stepovers, nutmegs, spins — all done with a grin.



His older brother, Luca, said something else that stuck.



“You're not normal, Enz. You're like one of those aliens. Like Fenômeno.”

Enzo had no idea who Ronaldo Nazário was. But once he saw the tapes — the long strides, the explosive cuts, the goals from impossible angles — he was obsessed.



That night, he told his family, his eyes burning with belief:



“I want to be the next Alien.”