That year I had gotten a terrible bald part, with the part in the middle and the hairs scattered from one side to the other, in blocks, like misplaced lettuce leaves, because I had seen Matt Damon in The unstoppable Will Hunting and I wanted to emulate him, without weighing that, ahem, I was never going to be able to be Matt Damon or also appreciate that I have untamed hair, prone to the grotesque, with which one cannot and should not play much. Just because he was a fanciful kid doesn’t mean he didn’t know anything about life: my father had died that same year, and they teach you the absence and the love left by those who leave, that blow. That summer I arrived, like so many other fellows beginning their adventure, at the beginning of July, at the editorial office of the missing Newspaper of Andalusia, fearful, doubtful, aware that my baggage of films seen and books read, the notions of journalism that I had gathered in the race, were not going to be enough to defend myself in a work reality that I did not know. What luck that wonderful people, Inma, Nuria, Rocío, took me by the hand then and accompanied me when I entered the worldadult. Because of them, because of their wise instructions and their vision of the job, that beginning, despite the insecurities, did not imply looking into any abyss, quite the opposite. He was on solid ground. Those who know me know: I am a sense, an intense, and I fell in love with this. Two, three interviews and there was no turning back, the spider web had caught me. Talk to someone, tell their story, write it with respect and affection, just like a baker makes bread or a craftsman sculpts or carves stone or wood. I’m still grateful for opening that door. In a way, that summer has dragged on for almost a quarter of a century. Never, and look how storms have fallen since then, have I regretted this vocation. How many plays, exhibitions, concerts, flamenco proposals -what flamenco has given me in these years!- have reaffirmed my purpose. The other day, Carles Mesa, announcer of It is not an ordinary day at RNE, he differentiated between the ball interview and the friendly interview, which is one in which the right atmosphere is created and the guest lets go. I have witnessed many miracles like this, the one of people who took out their hearts and gave it to you.

The world has changed -oh, that young man belonged to another century-, but in the following generations, in those who came after internships -Pilar, Carlos, Cristina, Ana, Mercedes, María, and the list could go on- I have identified the same illusion, the same desire to grow, that I harbored then. Hopefully we know how to give space, opportunities, to those who are starting now, transmit that enthusiasm, so beautiful, so pure, like a mirror in which we still, sometimes, recognize ourselves.

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