In December 2016, Ryan Raposo cried in a hospital bed. Raposo often cried when he lost something — races down the street, backyard battles with his brothers and soccer games. Even single games of rock, paper, scissors. He knows it sounds dumb, but if he loses, he can’t help but think about what he could have done differently.

The fear of losing never escaped him. In the final minute of a game between his then-club team Vaughan SC and neighboring power Sigma FC, Raposo leapt off the ground in pursuit of a 50/50 ball and came down awkwardly as the opponent smashed on top of his leg. The break was almost as loud as his scream.

But as he sat in the hospital bed with a fracture in his right fibula — an injury that typically requires a six-week recovery time — he begged his doctor to tell him he could play the next week. It was his senior year. A week later was the Disney showcase, a prominent college recruiting circuit. He needed to play.

Raposo, now an all-conference freshman forward at Syracuse, experienced little stoppage in his career. He said he’s the most competitive person he’s ever met and he declared it without hesitation nor pompiety. It’s not a gloat, but rather an understanding of the hardships his family faced. All his life, he’s heard the stories: the days without food in Portugal, a venture to somewhere unknown, the early mornings and late nights Raposo’s parents spent just to keep him going to soccer practices.

He’d spend the next two months bedridden. His friends texted him when they committed to college. He congratulated them, but he should’ve been committing, too. Even with a speedy recovery and defiance of his doctor, family and friends’ orders, for a period of time, he couldn’t move. No one who’s helped him progress has ever taken a break, so how could he?

“I’ve been put down my whole life more than a lot of people I know. I wasn’t praised since I was young, a superstar. Haven’t been (a) prodigy, golden child,” Raposo said. “It’s always been grinding and finding ways to make it happen. I’m gonna do everything I can to keep this soccer dream alive.”

•••

Raposo’s grandfather, Jose Raposo, was born on a farm in São Miguel, Portugal, the most populous island in the island group of the Azores. From the age of six, Jose spent multiple hours in the field picking vegetables and rice for the harvest and the hope of a meal in the near future.

Jose attended church frequently and, at 18, met who would soon become his wife, Cecilia, at a church festival. Hoping to build a better life, Jose saved enough money to move himself to Canada, where he worked several jobs and spent 14 hour days cleaning floors. After some time, he started his own business, a floor maintenance company named Raposo Limited, which developed a reputation in the Ontario, Canada community and gave him enough money to bring the rest of his family to Canada.

At a young age, Raposo spent many weekends at his grandparents’ cottage on Lake Erie. Every long weekend, Jose and Cecilia expected a visit. Neighbors would know the kids were coming: the wood would be cut for the bonfire and the patio would be clean. Jose kicked around the soccer ball with Raposo in the sand. Raposo had always known his grandfather to be athletic. He’d cut trees, lift weights and work out. Jose even built a three-tier deck with a landing dock that led onto the beach. Most of all, he kept up with a young Raposo on the soccer field.

Jose retired at 50 and settled into a life of charity and volunteering with the local church.

Ryan Raposo with his grandfather, Jose Raposo, who Raposo called “Vavu.” Courtesy of the Raposo family.

Raposo’s parents’ lives just started to pick up. With three kids and two full time jobs, there was little time for rest. Raposo’s dad, Rui, worked 14 hour days at his job and his mom, Lori, worked as a cardiac nurse during the day and served on the emergency team at night. Some nights, she returned from work at 4 a.m., slept, showered and still woke up before Raposo came down at 6:30 a.m. to drive to soccer practice.

As his career progressed, his ventures grew. Starting from 11U, he played for Toronto FC Academy, almost 40 miles from Raposo’s home in Hamilton. His local team, Mount Hamilton, reduced the pressure briefly, but when he sought bigger challenges, Lori and Rui would take shifts loading the car again. Most recently, his trip to Vaughan was an hour-long drive.

Ryan’s friends were always shocked by the condition of the Raposo home. Three boys, a crazy schedule but it was always clean. Nothing looked out of place. It seemed perfect.

“I definitely wasn’t appreciative at the time,” Raposo said as he held back tears. “You’re just a kid … That’s how you just think it should be.”

Ryan Raposo (middle) with his parents, Rui (left) and Lori (right). Courtesy of the Raposo family.

Raposo had a tight-knit relationship with much of his family, but one of the closest relationships he had was with Jose. He called him Vavu, the Portuguese word for “grandfather.” Raposo told him his hopes and dreams: sports cars and professional soccer goals.

“Se deus quiser,” Vavu responded. In Portuguese: If God wants, it will happen.

Shortly after Raposo turned 12 years old, Jose was admitted to the hospital and diagnosed with Parkinson’s. It didn’t trigger in Raposo’s mind at the time why his grandfather was less talkative, why he was always in bed. He was still alive. They could still talk. Everything seemed normal — maybe Vavu just didn’t want to play.

But Jose’s communication skills started to deteriorate. He was diagnosed with pneumonia and admitted to a hospital. In December 2015, while the family prepared for Christmas with Lori’s relatives, Rui received a call from his brother, asking him to come to the hospital. Jose died soon after due to complications with his disease.

Raposo entered a grieving period he had never experienced before. Jose was like a second father to him, he said. Normally outgoing and talkative, his parents said, the weight of his grandfather’s passing caused him to keep quiet.

But the soccer didn’t stop. He trained every day. He remembered his grandfather’s stories and used them as motivation. His grandfather didn’t stop. His parents didn’t stop. So he can’t. Not now.

•••

When Raposo arrived at Burlington youth soccer club, an under-13 team in Burlington, Ontario, he came with an already sizeable name. His coach, Aleks Balta had seen him play for his U-9 club and immediately thought he was ready for the switch.

But Balta said he came with an attitude, too. It’s a personality Raposo can’t shake. In middle school, he and his friend group developed a hard-nosed reputation. When Raposo first met Ali Ajelo, one of his best friends, in fifth grade, their personalities didn’t match right away and Ajelo said he thought Raposo was a “cocky pr*ck.” But Ajelo was always impressed with Raposo’s demeanor. He “didn’t take crap from anybody,” Ajelo said, but he also was careful in avoiding confrontation and pulled Ajelo and his friends out of a few fights.

On the soccer field Raposo was much of the same. He hyped his teammates and made impressive plays everywhere on the pitch. Balta said he’s rarely surprised at what people could do — he’s knowledgeable enough about the game to see things coming — but twice Raposo made plays he couldn’t have even guessed, a perfectly placed goal over the goalkeeper’s head and a near-goal on a ball that Balta thought would surely be out of bounds.

In one practice, Balta said Raposo challenged a “running back” sized player named Josh Okwulegu on his team for a ball that Balta said Raposo never should have won and knocked Josh off-balance.

“Get off me!” Raposo yelled. Balta cracked up laughing. Josh chuckled, too.

Balta saw the potential Raposo had. He’d set up cones in Balta’s practices and worked on his one-on-one skills to help beat people with his quickness. When Balta wanted Raposo to release the ball quicker, he’d jump into the scrimmages and slide-tackle him hard. Not to hurt him, Balta said, just to teach.

Raposo challenged him on occasion as the two sometimes came face to face, but for the most part Raposo adapted well to Balta’s pushing.

When Raposo was 16, he moved to Vaughan SC to play for coach Patrice Gheisar. He went on a slump the three months leading up to his injury and fell into another one as he rushed back in March of 2017, too quickly into his recovery.

He didn’t understand why he was doing so poorly. He’d throw his shoes after games. He second-guessed everything. Should he have made the switch in the first place? Is the system a good fit for him? It was obvious. The way he waved his arms. The way he stared at the grass. He seemed broken.

“It doesn’t mean your quality’s gone away. It doesn’t mean that the world’s going to end,” Gheisar said. “It just means you have to work hard.”

“At the end of the day that’s the answer to all problems.”

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So he did. His physiotherapy intensified: He’d wear a weight and draw the alphabet with his foot, a common technique to promote mobility and break up scar tissue. He started to experience a turnaround, and then SU head coach Ian McIntyre sent him an email. He looked back a few months, when he longed to play in the Disney showcase and expected coaches would pressure him into a commitment. He’d been watching Syracuse basketball since he was young. When he got the offer, he knew it was worth the time off.

The day he committed, he sent a note to Balta.

“Hey aleks (sic) I just wanted to let you know as of 10 minutes ago, I’m a Syracuse University commit for 2018,” Raposo said in a text to Balta. “You are truly one of my most prolific role models in my life. It isn’t a pro contract which would’ve made you happy but I think it’s a stepping stone to that … I’ll continue to work hard.”

•••

This past July, prior to Raposo’s first season with SU, he got a tattoo. NCAA rules restrict him from wearing jewelry on the field, so the cross he wears to honor his grandfather had to be replaced. He printed his life’s motto on the inner part of his right arm. He kisses it before games as a constant reminder of where he came from: “Se Deus Quiser.”

“Kind of saying like, ‘yeah, he’s got me,’” Raposo said.

At SU, Raposo routinely fights for position with larger defenders and wins. When he’s knocked down he pops back up immediately. With his teammates he hosts food challenges. With his roommates in his South Campus apartment, Simon Triantafillou and Tajon Buchanan, who played against him in Canada when he was younger, he ordered a large quantity of wings from Wings Over Syracuse and challenged them to see who can eat the most. He doesn’t remember how many he ate, but he knows he didn’t lose.

He calls his teammates his “brothers.” He hates when they’re disappointed and he thrives on their similar distaste with losing. When one of his teammates, Sam Gomez, was going through personal struggles prior to Syracuse’s Oct. 8 matchup with Ohio State, each time Raposo influenced the offense (he finished with a goal and an assist) he flashed Gomez’ number “3-0” to the sideline with his hands.

To stay focused, Raposo just needs to look back. He gets tired and sometimes, becomes too much. But then he thinks of his mom, his dad, his brothers, his cousins, his grandfather, his grandmother and kicks into another gear.

After Syracuse’s win over Wake Forest, one of the defining moments of SU’s season, Raposo lowered to the ground and sat quietly as SU players and coaches skipped around the field celebrating the win. Raposo stood up and looked to the sky.

Said Raposo: “Everything that I do (is) for the people that have sacrificed for me.”

Published on November 15, 2018 at 1:13 am

Contact Michael: [email protected] | @MikeJMcCleary