Romelu Lukaku: “I was 6 years old, and I came home for lunch after school. Mom had the usual on the menu: bread and milk. But that day, I came home, and Mom started mixing the bottle of milk with something else.
“She served me lunch with a smile as if everything was fine. But I understood what she was doing. She was mixing milk with water. We didn’t have enough money to make the bottle last the whole week. And she always told me she had already eaten, but in reality, she hadn’t, just so I wouldn’t go without food. We weren’t just poor; we were broke.
“My parents, in the midst of misery, bet on me. They made huge efforts to take me to training. That’s why I played that first World Cup match with a lot of anger, for many reasons: for the rats running through our apartment, because I couldn’t watch the Champions League, we didn’t have a TV. I’d go to school, and all the kids would talk about the final. I had no idea what had happened. Everyone was talking about Zidane’s volley. I pretended to know what they were talking about, for the classmates’ parents who looked down on me because of my characteristics and condition.”
“One day I asked my father at what age it would be ideal to debut in football, and to give me any age (I found this out years later), he said 16. I didn’t stop until I achieved it. At that time, I was a substitute for Anderlecht, about to turn 16. I approached the coach and asked him to bet on me. I promised him a certain number of goals, and if I didn’t achieve them, he could bench me again. Indeed, at 16, I forced my debut. Not only did I score the promised goals, but I also became the top scorer in the national championship: I scored 76 goals in 34 matches; I did them all with my dad’s boots. From then on, I decided to be the best player in Belgium’s history. Not good. Not excellent. The best.”
Today Lukaku is trolled for his lack of goals, but he is an example of overcoming obstacles and perseverance.
