INT. CAFÉ SERRA – EAST VANCOUVER – LATE AFTERNOON
Outdoor patio. Lenny Belardo, The Young Pope Pius XIII, sits across from Portuguese football legend João Pinto at a small wooden table. Both men have cigarettes in hand. Smoke curls lazily into the Vancouver air. Lenny, in his white cassock and zucchetto, looks strangely at home in the East Van vibe.
LENNY BELARDO (taking a slow drag, eyes sharp with amusement) You know, João… I’ve seen a lot of so-called miracles in my life. But that goal you scored against Croatia in ’96? That was something else. The way you cut inside, that little feint, and then bang — top corner. Pure poetry.
JOÃO PINTO (smiling, exhaling smoke) You remember that one, huh? Was a long time ago.
LENNY BELARDO (leaning in slightly, gesturing with his cigarette) Of course I remember. Thirty-five meters out, the ball bending like it had a mind of its own. The keeper had no chance. For a moment, the entire world stopped breathing. Even God might’ve paused to watch.
JOÃO PINTO (laughing) Coming from the Pope, that’s quite the compliment.
LENNY BELARDO (slight smirk, tapping ash) I’m off duty today. Just Lenny. And between us sinners… that goal was better than most sermons I’ve heard. Tell me — did it feel like divine intervention when it left your foot?
JOÃO PINTO (shrugs, grinning) Felt like the ball just wanted to go in. Sometimes football is like that.
LENNY BELARDO (nods thoughtfully, taking another drag) Exactly. Grace in motion.
They both sit back, sharing a comfortable silence as the East Vancouver street hums around them.