“I’m sorry I know so little about soccer or sports in general. I have no idea who Elías Figueroa is. In my world, it was all about facts and figures and what the markets were doing.”

“Figueroa—he’s retired now, but back in the day, he was the most elegant soccer player. Mucho professional, kept his cool every second of the game. Represented Chile forty-seven times, was in three FIFA World Cups—the international association of futbolistas. Won the Bola de Ouro twice—the Brazilian player of the year—and the South American footballer of the year three times. I could go on and on.”

“Do you play soccer, also?” Jack asked.

“Only with my son, yes. When I’m not out here on the road. It’s tough, but I make the most of my time when I’m home. Lucky for me, my employer pays me well and holds family in high regard.”

“My son, Duncan . . . I had high hopes for him. In school, he played basketball. He was a star athlete, really good. He was a point guard. He had college scouts from the Big Ten schools looking at him.”

“Ah, I know básquetbol. We also call it baloncesto. Michael Jordan, no?”

“Yes. He’s a very smart and interesting man. I have actually met him.”

“You met Michael Jordan? The greatest basketball player who ever lived?”

“Yes, I have. He’s very smart. Invested his money in a shoe line, clothing, a sports drink, and he owns a basketball team. While he was busy being one of the greatest athletes of all time, he was also planning ahead for his future.”

“Did you and the great Jordan shoot the hoops?”

“No, we did not play any basketball. We talked at length about how to prepare and invest in his future, because he knew that one day he wouldn’t be playing basketball, and he needed to have a plan.”

Matías is wearing an ear-to-ear shit-eating grin. He says, “You know Michael Jordan, and here you are in my truck, hitchhiking through Chile! I feel like I am escorting a celebrity.”

Still coming to terms with just what a for-shit husband and father he was, Jack tells Matías, “I’m far from a celebrity. I’m a lost individual who neglected his wife, his daughter, and his son.” And thinking of his son, Jack adds, “You know, my son Duncan decided to go into a trade school of all places. I wanted him to attend an Ivy League school and get a degree in business to take over for me. Now he’s an electrician—a fucking tradesman, of all things. I wanted him to do something more.”

“Electrician—that’s an honest trade,” Matías says. “Working with your hands and your mind.” Points to his brain. “No?”