Someone wrote in a critique of El Capitan that this is a collage of stories. I agree. I describe it as a story of stories. Each of the “stories” is told by a group of aging, former soccer / futbol pros that had their day in decades past and, who in their late 50s, some into their 60s, still get together and play each Saturday for a local club in Queens, NY. Queens is where they had ended up, each player for their own reasons. I called them Los Maestros in the book, a term meant for someone who has mastered a skill. It also means teacher. So, they were “maestros of futbol,” masters of the game. But on one Saturday, the one when they met a young boy named Rio, they became the other meaning – teachers – teaching Rio the game of soccer or futbol, whichever term you prefer, and, also about the game of life. The Maestros’ stories, told in the story of El Capitan, are the true stories. These “stories” came from the life of my father who lived an extraordinary life. The rest of it is a blend of inspiration, some of it from my own life growing up in Huntington, NY and some of it the “glue” of fiction that I could tell a different story, the story about finding a way to belong.