Benfica: Double Checkmate

Nobody truly enjoys the silly season, yet we all harbor a secret affection for it. It's a bittersweet, paradoxical feeling that washes over us every summer, only truly challenged by the World Cup or European Championship. But as soon as the final whistle blew in New Jersey, and Spain once again reigned supreme in football, the uncontrollable yearning to return to our clubs, our comfort, and the permanent reality of a fan quickly resurfaced.

A preliminary point: officially, I am a Benfica member before I am a Portuguese citizen. As such, the wait is unfortunately shorter, with only four days separating the most important game in football from the most important game for those who have sung Luís Piçarra's praises weekly since childhood. We are now reaping the fruits of what we collectively sowed last October, ending the previous season—once again—out of the title race, compounded by the familiar drawback of missing out on the (millions from the) Champions League.

I write on the day my club begins its long journey to reach the Europa League, a competition where we should consider ourselves contenders for victory. On paper and in practice, Benfica must be neck and neck for pole position to win another European title. The memory of the 60s is healthy, but it cannot remain merely eternal; it must be renewed. This ambition should be expressed more on the field than through grand proclamations—the FPF's #VaiDarPortugal, which proved to be a poor communication choice, is a prime example.

Returning to the beginning, every pre-season holds the magical power to make us believe. Just days ago, I heard Alberto Miguéns, the club's indispensable historian, state that there was never a year he didn't believe Benfica could be champions. This is the sentiment that runs through our veins, drawing from the inevitability immortalized by Mário Wilson: "Whoever coaches Benfica risks becoming a champion."

This is where Marco Silva comes in, and the true challenge he faces, starting with the obligation to become the manager Ruben Amorim says he needs to be to accept his professional challenges. This is because Benfica starts at a sporting, competitive, financial, communicational, and institutional disadvantage. It's an uneven race across the board, one that has worsened since 2021. There's a notion circulating that some Benfica members have become professional prophets of doom—a thesis I couldn't disagree with more. That's why, on another fresh, clean slate for those who always believe, it's important to understand our starting point.

Our passion for Benfica demands unwavering seriousness. Dear fellow member, dear Red Pass companion, dear colleague with whom I debate the Glorious, this is the reflection I want to share. I genuinely believe that our inexplicable strength will be capable of breaking the stagnation we've witnessed in recent seasons. I confess: I'm tired of losing as the norm and winning occasionally. I grew up with the exact opposite. In fact, we all did. Convinced—and rightly so—that Benfica won as the norm and lost occasionally. And it's painful to realize that this childhood certainty has, without us noticing, transformed into its perfect inverse.

We can no longer endure the institutionalized Russian roulette we've become, where it's impossible to predict where the ball will land. We've spent the last few years discussing unlucky shots hitting the post, controversial refereeing, and widespread conspiracies—and the most uncomfortable truth of all is this: Benfica fans have turned into refereeing commentators because they can no longer comment on titles. I apologize for the audacity, but this is not the DNA of the club we all fell in love with.

And this season's planning once again worries me because of what it reveals about our decision-making process. This pre-season has shown signs of doubt regarding patterns we already know by heart: signings that seem to prioritize name and risk over careful consideration and certainty. And it's like this, without us realizing it, that the country's biggest club permanently teeters on a knife-edge, waiting for individual brilliance to solve what the structure should have resolved beforehand.

There's a definition attributed to Einstein that describes insanity as repeating the exact same thing and expecting a different result. Since 2021, Benfica has been an expert in this field. One fresh start is casual. Two, perhaps still explainable. Six coaches later, no explanation holds up—these are open fractures we cannot ignore. In the winning identity. In the ability to maintain (or even create) a foundation. In the courage to say 'this one stays another year until he's champion.' In how newcomers are welcomed. In the demand that winning is mandatory, not a contract clause.

Perhaps that's why Benfica's biggest mistake in recent years has been another: confusing fan loyalty with a strategic plan. We have no way of knowing if Marco Silva will be champion. We only know that he arrives at a club where members have grown accustomed to starting over. And no coach can win championships at a club that is permanently in 'restart' mode. There are no miracle workers. There are, however, opportunities that are only valuable when someone above him knows how to seize them.

And that's why this is, without a shadow of a doubt, the season of 'yes or yes.' There are no more excuses available, no more fresh starts we are entitled to. Those at Seixal should know, from now on, that the 'Tribunal da Luz' will dictate it—without pity, but also without resentment, because that's how you truly love a club: by demanding from it what it taught us to expect from itself.

We need to see a more articulate board, capable of anticipating rather than reacting, of preparing with discernment instead of chasing the market. We need to feel that there is, finally, a common thread between what is promised in July and what is delivered in May. And until that happens unequivocally, it is up to us, members and fans, to be vigilant, attentive, and demanding. But never absent—because we will always be there, supporting from the first to the last minute, from the first to the last game.

In a few hours, Benfica will take the field. We will dream before knowing if this team is good. We will applaud players about whom we still have uncertainties. We will believe, as we do every year. But this time, we have an obligation to demand something different.

I want to believe that our faith finally stops serving to hide problems and returns to exclusively pushing Benfica forward. Because we always do our part. It's time for those in charge to do theirs. I want to relive the time when we felt our rivals were playing checkers, comfortable with their false certainties, and Benfica, fearless and asking no one's permission, played chess. Preferably with a double checkmate: Marquês and Frankfurt.