08/13/2026
❤️🩹 Willian Pacho has opened up on his devastating Journey in a heartbreaking letter for The Players’ Tribune.
Before playing on the biggest stages in Europe for PSG, Willian Pacho was just a boy in Quinindé, Ecuador, raised by a single mother after his father left:
"He left when I was born. Every night, after working to the bone, she would come home and play her music. I think it was because of the pain of her separation from my father... I think I was maybe 8 years old. All I wanted to do was dance with her. It was my mission."
Watching her feet as she danced the bachata in their living room was how he learned the footwork that made him a footballer:
"One two three, one two three... One day I finally heard her say, ‘There you go! Willian, you got it!’ I looked up at her face, and she was smiling so big. I guess that’s how I learned how to use my feet."
Life was a constant battle against poverty. His mother washed clothes by hand and raised pigs in their backyard. It was young Willian’s job to knock on neighbors’ doors to collect food scraps:
"I would be up to my elbows in rice, picking out the bones... I would hear the other kids making fun of me. The adults could be even worse. Some of them, I could see the little smirk on their faces. It leaves a mark on you."
Yet every Christmas, his mother shared roasted pork with the entire neighborhood—even those who mocked them:
"I remember asking my mother, ‘How can you feed the ones who would not even help us feed the community?’ And she would say, ‘Don’t let it bother you. Everybody gets a good slice.’ ... We turned scraps into a feast. I carried that with me my entire life."
At 15, Pacho left home for the Independiente del Valle academy, where he shared a room and scrubbed dishes with his best friend, Moisés Caicedo:
"Moisés would cook, and I would do the dishes... To think that the two guys scrubbing dishes would be playing in the Champions League someday… No, impossible."
But as Pacho closed in on making his senior debut, tragedy struck. His mother was secretly battling cancer, shielding him so he wouldn't abandon his dream:
"Every time I would call her, she would say everything was fine. She never wanted me to worry."
When he visited her in 2019, he saw her hidden scars for the first time:
"Her left breast had been removed. Her skin was burned. Scarred... That night, I slept next to her in the bed, like when I was a child. When she fell asleep, I cried all night in silence so she wouldn't worry."
On the day of his professional debut, Pacho woke up to overwhelming texts. Panicking, he called his family, but his sister covered up the truth so he could focus: "She’s fine. Don’t worry. Call us after the match."
"My last thought before I went onto the pitch was, ‘Mamá is watching you on TV. You have to win every ball for her.’"
Pacho put in a stellar performance and kept a clean sheet. But the moment he walked off the pitch, his family and coach took him into a quiet room to tell him she had passed away that morning.
"I cried out in pain, like I’ve never cried before. Why has the person I love the most been taken away? The only person I can truly trust. My reason for everything. Why her?"
Still in his dirty kit, Pacho began the harrowing night ride home through the steep Andean mountains, consumed by immense grief:
"If you have never been to Ecuador, then you can't imagine how it feels to drive the mountain roads at night. You're on a rollercoaster in the dark. There's no guardrails... The fourth time we stopped, I went a bit closer to the edge. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even cry anymore. I remember looking down into the abyss and just thinking....
Mamá, I don't want to be here without you." 🕊️❤️
Massive respect for Willian Pacho and his journey.🤍🇪🇨
