The Silence That Screams: Endrick and the Loneliness of the Bench
Endrick is looking to leave Real Madrid and Olympique Lyonnais could be his next destination.
Endrick was not born to wait. He was born to run, to fight, to feel the ball live at his feet. And yet, for eight matches, the young Brazilian has been living the exact opposite: stagnation. A crossroads of silence, where every match passes like a punishment. The bench has become his cage, and Real Madrid, which once seemed like his great dream, is starting to look like a trap.
The Clásico at the Bernabéu was the turning point. Where every footballer wants to make history, Endrick lived the heaviest silence of his career. He didn't play a single minute. When the whistle blew and the tension spilled out onto the grass, he was left sitting, staring blankly, lost in his own dream. The cameras almost ignored him; he was invisible in the storm. But he was in as much pain as anyone.
When the lights went down and the stadium emptied, Edric was left alone. He did the usual exercises for the "inactive", those who hadn't played a minute. It was the only way to get on the pitch. Alone, in the centre of the Bernabeu, in a scene that looked more like a confession than a training session.
A year ago, the world belonged to him: 7 goals in 840 minutes, the child prodigy of the new era. Now, he doesn't even have the right to participate. The excitement has faded, replaced by something deeper and more dangerous — a silent despair. The kind that consumes footballers who can't bear to watch games pass them by.
With each passing week, his faith in “waiting” wears thin. He is not a child who settles for the role of spectator. He wants to fight, to prove himself, to feel the shirt heavy on his body. But the decisions that are made leave him no room for explanation. And he begins to think about the unspeakable: should he leave?
His message after the victory in the Clásico — “Congratulations to the whole team! Hallelujah Madrid!” — was polite, almost cold. A public smile that covered an internal scream. Because the truth is that he does not want to congratulate, but to participate. He does not want to belong to the team in words, but on the pitch.
At Valdebebas he works hard, laughs, tries to appear calm. But those who know him see his eyes darkening. His time is not infinite, and the bench is not a place for someone who has learned to live off the intensity of the game.
Endrick does not ask for privileges; he asks for justice. He does not ask to be protected; he asks to be trusted. If he cannot play here, he will do it elsewhere. Because the child who came with the fire of Brazil inside him can no longer bear to burn in silence.

Manos Staramopoulos
Journalist and Analyst of International Football and Affairs
Chief Editor English Zone of Discoveryfootball.com
Athens (Greece)
 
  
 










