If a time machine ever came along that could transport me to the past, I would have no doubt in choosing June 1, 1980. On that day, a cloudy and cold Sunday, Flamengo beat Atlético Mineiro 3-2 and won their first Brazilian Championship.

I'm not exactly nostalgic, but if the opportunity arises, I'll grab it with all my might. However, I will make an absolute point of leaving behind everything that has been added to my life in the 29 years that have passed since then. I want to relive the experience with all the intensity of that time.

I also don't intend, rest assured, to bring back what I'll find, as almost nothing from those times would fit with my present-day self. I once heard on TV from a shipwreck salvage expert that the right thing to do would be to allow, if not for his personal need for survival, such vessels to rest in peace forever, as stirring up what the waters have swallowed only causes discomfort in the souls of those who have passed.

Not long ago, I rewatched the tape of that decision at a meeting of die-hard Flamengo fans, all somewhat veteran like me, and I confess I fell into a bit of a depression. I couldn't hold back the convulsive tears, which actually shocked some. I quickly explained that my emotion wasn't just about football, but was mainly caused by the reminder of an absolutely extraordinary time in my life. I'll never be able to recapture my 25 years, and the sense of youth and freedom that comes with them, even if I win a big lottery jackpot.

Still, I think it wouldn't hurt to watch live one more time, even if it were the last, those 90 emotionally charged minutes that represent my favorite game of all time. To celebrate Zico's genius, Carpeggiani's sobriety, Nunes's goals, Júlio César "Uri Geller's" dribbles, and the sheer quality of that squad that began, on that cloudy and cold Sunday, its charge toward the world title.

It would also be interesting to see him again in the stands, right behind the goal where "João Danado" scored the third, the boy with long blond hair, still full of desires and ambitions, who today, 29 years later, writes these poorly written lines. I even think I'd forgive Manguito again for his crazy ball retrieval that almost prevented me from writing this text.

That's it. The shipwreck expert warned me not to dwell on the past. Or revisit it. But if that time machine ever came along, I'd beg permission to contradict him, just once, to let out that goal-scoring cry that I'll carry with me forever. Yes, because that game didn't end on that June 1st. It's what emotionally connects me to the best of Flamengo and my own life.

Roberto Assaf is a journalist and writer. He is the author of books such as "The Rio de Janeiro Championship, 96 Years of History," "The World of World Cups," "Flamengo-Flu, the Game of the Century," "Flamengo vs. Vasco, the Classic of Millions," "Flamengo's Almanac," and "The Complete History of the Brasileirão," among others.