I am forty years old. I am a god, but a god who is aging. Finally, I take it into account, just as I took into account that my body is not what it used to be. For years I ignored the signs it was sending me, then I decided to pay attention to them. I can no longer manage the continuous sprints I used to do when I was young; when I get tired or take a hit, I need more time to recover. I adapted my game to my new body. My game is no longer in the penalty area, where the shots fall. I often go outside the area and create play; now I work more for others' goals than my own. I no longer need the spotlight, what I had to win I have won, now I like to inspire, to help my young teammates mature.

I am forty years old and I have two sons who are no longer babies but full children. At this age, you usually draw a line and add up, you take the first results. That is the meaning of this book. For days I tried to pretend nothing was happening, not to think about my approaching birthday. I avoided thinking about the number forty, but then, last night, I found it in front of me, red, huge, occupying the entire facade of a hotel. They had formed it by lighting some rooms and leaving others dark.

At this hotel in Milan, Helena, my wife, had organized a surprise party that moved me. There were my dearest people, many friends who had come from all over the world, important people in my life. There were football legends, coaches, even players I had treated badly on the field. I did not expect to find them all on that rooftop. Rino Gattuso gave me an explanation: "You were always authentic, even when you hit them. That’s why they came." Helena did an excellent job. She organized everything secretly and thus gave me a wonderful gift. Usually, I am the one who gives gifts to others.