I almost resorted to violence, and for that, I apologize

TORONTO — Canadians are, by nature and custom, a living testament to civility. They are friendly, empathetic, welcoming, and possess a good-natured vibe that can disarm even the most skeptical traveler. It's a country of easy smiles and exemplary public conduct.

But, as in any perfect ecosystem, there's always an exception that proves the rule and tests the limits of one's sanity.

Last Thursday, I confess with some shame and a lot of adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I came very close to physical violence. And for that, first and foremost, I publicly apologize.

It all happened in the aftermath of that euphoric avalanche. We had just covered the tremendous and memorable fan walk of the Portuguese supporters through the streets of Toronto, a sea of people singing with Portuguese soul.

We were live on Bola TV for the 'Dias do Mundial' show, trying to process the celebration before the clash with Croatia, when fate decided to place a disruptive element in our path.

A Canadian man, visibly intoxicated and devoid of any sense of personal space, decided our live broadcast was the ideal stage for his drunken frustrations.

It was annoying, uncomfortable, and invasive. He kept getting in my face, touching me insistently, and mumbling incomprehensible nonsense right into the microphone.

Those on screen have an invisible armor: I maintained my posture, held my tone, and pretended the world was a calm place. But television broadcasts eventually end.

The moment the camera turned off, faced with a physical threat and the individual's arrogant persistence, my composure snapped. I apologize to the readers, but my poise gave way to a forceful verbal reaction. I was on the verge, the very verge, of hitting him.

Fortunately for me and André Carvalho, my tireless travel companion and cameraman, a group of police officers who had witnessed the whole thing from a front-row seat intervened promptly to calm things down.

Anyone who knows me knows I abhor violence under any circumstances. But the pressure of this World Cup, the accumulated stress, and the invasion of our professional dignity pushed me to the limit.

Toronto remains a paradise, but on Thursday, my personal Route 66 was shaken. Forgive the outburst, but journalism is also made of flesh, bone, and frayed nerves.