It was a cool and quiet Monday morning, the 3rd of February, 2025, in Tokyo.
The sun had barely risen over the skyline when the Palmeiras team began gathering in the hotel lobby, bags packed, minds focused, and spirits high.
The pre-season tour had finally come to an end, and Abel Ferreira stood by the glass doors, arms crossed, watching his players exchange smiles and laughter.
There was a calm confidence in the air—a sense of satisfaction that only comes after hard work and visible progress.
Abel Ferreira and his squad arrived here just two days after their match against Miami as part of their preseason schedule. They've already played their next fixture and are now getting ready to head out.
The night before, Palmeiras had faced Kawasaki Frontale, a strong Japanese side known for its speed and fluid passing.
But Abel's men had risen to the challenge. The 4–1 victory wasn't just another scoreline; it was a statement—a message that Palmeiras were ready for the battles ahead.
The match began with intensity. From the first whistle, Palmeiras imposed their rhythm, pressing high, moving the ball quickly, and testing the Japanese defense.
The first breakthrough came in the 15th minute, when Gustavo Gómez leapt above everyone to meet a curling corner from Raphael Veiga.
The captain's header thundered into the net, silencing the home crowd and energizing the Brazilian bench.
Just before halftime, in 45+3 young Vitor Roque doubled the lead.
It was a moment of pure instinct—a quick turn and precise finish that showed why Abel had placed so much faith in the rising star.
As the referee blew for halftime, Palmeiras walked off the pitch with a comfortable 2–0 lead, their control of the game undeniable.
The second half was no different. Palmeiras looked fluid, confident, and connected.
In the 60th minute, Gabriel Silva drove down the left flank, slipping past two defenders before cutting the ball across the box.
Raphael Veiga, ever the orchestrator, met it with a calm first-time finish to make it 3–0.
The chemistry between the players was evident—months of preparation and tactical drilling under Abel Ferreira were paying off.
Gabriel Silver played just like he always does — constantly tormenting defenders and pressing high up the pitch.
He didn't shy away from helping out in defense either, stepping in when Palmeiras faced dangerous counterattacks.
His energy and creativity made the match much easier for Palmeiras, as he kept creating chance after chance.
He even won a penalty in the 30th minute, but unfortunately, Roque couldn't convert it.
By the 70th minute, it was time for fresh legs. Abel made his usual tactical substitutions: José López came on for Vitor Roque, and Andreas Pereira replaced Gabriel Silva.
The impact was almost immediate. In one of his first touches, Pereira latched onto a clever through ball from Veiga and slotted it calmly past the Kawasaki goalkeeper.
The scoreboard read 4–0, and the Brazilian fans in the stands erupted in joy.
Kawasaki Frontale managed a consolation goal in stoppage time—Wakizaka curled a stunning shot into the top corner in 90+1, giving the Japanese side something to cheer about.
But the game was long decided. Palmeiras had controlled the tempo, dictated possession, and showcased both their strength and their depth.
After the final whistle, Abel gathered his players in a small circle on the field.
He congratulated them—not just for the victory, but for their discipline, teamwork, and improvement since their earlier pre-season clash with Inter Miami. "This," he said, "is the Palmeiras I know. Confident, united, and always learning."
The following morning, as the team bus pulled up outside the hotel, the players loaded their luggage, still talking about moments from the match.
Abel took one last look around—the tour had been a success.
The players had bonded, fitness levels were high, and the tactical systems were sharp.
The pre-season was over, but the real journey—the new season—was about to begin.
Gabriel Silva zipped up his bag, making sure everything was neatly packed—his boots, his training gear, and a few souvenirs he had picked up during the team's stay in Japan.
He slipped on his Palmeiras tracksuit, adjusted the collar, and put in his earphones. The soft rhythm of his favorite Brazilian playlist filled his head, drowning out the morning chatter in the hallway.
He paused for a moment by the mirror. His reflection looked calm, but his mind was racing.
The pre-season was over, and Gabriel knew what came next—decisions.
Abel Ferreira would soon finalize his starting lineup for the season, and every player wanted to be in that eleven.
Gabriel had given everything during training and in the matches, especially in the last friendly against Kawasaki Frontale.
He had worked tirelessly, provided a crucial assist to Raphael Veiga for the third goal, and played with energy and confidence.
"Now it's up to him," he thought, referring to Abel. He trusted his coach completely, but there was always that little hope in the back of his mind—the hope of being chosen, of starting, of proving himself once again.
Deep down, Gabriel knew he had done well. Whatever happened next, he had no regrets.
He slung his bag over his shoulder, turned off the lights, and walked out of the room. The hallway buzzed with quiet excitement.
Teammates were doing last-minute checks, chatting, laughing, and some were still half asleep.
Gustavo Gómez was helping one of the younger players zip up a heavy suitcase, while Raphael Veiga stood by the elevator scrolling through his phone.
"Ready to go home?" Veiga asked as Gabriel joined him.
"Always," Gabriel smiled. "But I'll miss this place a little."
"Yeah," Veiga nodded. "But São Paulo is calling. Time to get serious."
When the team reached the hotel entrance, they were met by a small crowd of Palmeiras fans who had gathered early that morning to see them off.
Many were locals who had followed the team throughout their stay in Japan, carrying homemade banners and green flags.
Some held small gifts—jerseys, scarves, even drawings of their favorite players.
As soon as the players stepped outside, cheers erupted. "Palmeiras! Palmeiras!" the fans shouted, waving and smiling. The players responded warmly.
Gabriel took out one of his earphones and began signing autographs—on shirts, notebooks, even a few phone cases.
He posed for photos, laughing when a little boy shyly handed him a piece of paper that read, *"Obrigado, Gabriel!"
"Thank you for your support," Gabriel said in Portuguese, bowing slightly in respect. "We'll make you proud."
Nearby, Abel Ferreira watched his players interact with the fans, a proud but thoughtful look on his face.
This was more than just football—it was connection, heart, and family. He knew his team had grown stronger not just on the pitch, but off it too.
After a few minutes, the team staff began ushering everyone toward the bus parked by the curb. The driver loaded the luggage one by one, while the players took their seats.
Gabriel found a window seat near the back, earphones back in, watching the fans waving as the bus engine started. He waved back, smiling.
As they pulled away from the hotel, the skyline of Tokyo faded behind them. The mood on the bus was relaxed—some players chatting, others dozing off.
Gabriel leaned his head against the window, his thoughts drifting between the pre-season memories and the challenges ahead.
The pre-season was done. The tests, the training, the long days of preparation—it had all led to this moment.
In just a few hours, they'd be flying home to São Paulo, ready to begin another demanding season.
Gabriel closed his eyes, the hum of the bus and the rhythm in his ears blending into a calm melody. Whatever came next, he was ready.
He had done his part. Now, it was time to trust the process, the coach, and the beautiful game that had brought him this far.
As the bus rolled toward the airport, the skyline of Tokyo slowly disappeared behind them.
Ahead lay São Paulo, home, and the promise of another thrilling season under Abel Ferreira's guidance. The team was ready.