When we started counting to choose our teams on the playground, you always chose me first. I didn't understand if you did it out of sympathy or for my soccer capabilities. This has always been a dear and sweet memory that I have held for years; until reuniting with you at an art exhibition of yours with our mutual friend Piero Guccione. Afterwards, I exhumed that memory, translating it then into our stupendous human and cultural association. I remember one day I told you, You, Carlo, are my "extraordinary thing": your penetrating painting, your suffering imaginary, your stupendous solidarity with life, are teaching me to walk and maybe will make me discover myself a poet. How much I owe you and will always owe!