The Shirtless Wonder

But in a 6-1 Dallas win last month over the Kansas City Comets in Reunion Arena , Tatu had a problem. After he somehow eluded three defenders and beat goalkeeper Alan Mayer with a pinpoint shot to score his third goal early in the fourth quarter, a worried Agnes handed Tatu another jersey with TATU and 9 stenciled on the back. "This is the last one we have." said Agnes.

With 2:32 left he scored again and could only shrug in apology when fans screamed for the trendiest sports souvenir in Dallas . At game's end, Tatu tossed his shirt into the crowd in retroactive celebration and ran around the perimeter of the field slapping high fives with fans reaching over the protective glass.

"Tatu" means armadillo in Portuguese. Antonio Carlos inherited the nickname from his father, a stocky former railroad worker. By happy accident, Texans have long professed affection for armadillos, even though the nocturnal critters are rarely seen until they have been squashed on the interstates.

Tatu was a promising player for S�o Paulo 's first-division team in 1981 when Sidekick coach Gordon Jago , then the coach of the NASL Tampa Bay Rowdies, spotted him during a scouting trip to Brazil . Tatu, who was 19 at the time and spoke no English, was sent to Tampa in an exchange agreement between the Rowdies and S�o Paulo . He was fearful that he might be throwing away certain success as a soccer player in his native country. "People say I have it easy," says Tatu, "but what got me here was a lot of sacrifice."

It was in Tampa in 1983 that Tatu first tried to enliven American crowds by throwing his shirt into the stands after he scored a goal. "It didn't work so good in Tampa ," says Tatu. "It's hard to score outdoors, the fans are too far away and the older players didn't like it."

The next year, with the Rowdies in limbo, Tatu joined the Sidekicks and found that his emotions projected better indoors. His close-to-the-ground style of play was also more effective there Dallas 's home attendance jumped from 4,969 in 1984-85 to 6,904 last season. This year the Sidekicks are averaging 8.568 at home, and they are among the league's top attractions on the road.

Tatu is particularly pleased when youngsters come to see him play. "I relate more to the kids," he says. "They don't have the dirt in life that we do. When an adult says something good to me, I always have that feeling, well, 50-50. But when a kid says it. I know it's a hundred percent—maybe because we are almost the same size."

Not that Tatu can't operate in the adult world. His salary is more than $100,000 a year. He owns homes in Dallas and Tampa as well as five condominiums and five houses in Brazil . His town-house in North Dallas is decorated with Peter Kitchell prints and every conceivable type of man-made armadillo. For the last two years he has dated Lene Westerman, a Dallas native whom he met at an indoor soccer complex in which he owned an interest. The boy who was afraid to leave home six years ago is now a man who, when he visits Brazil , can't wait to return to the U.S.

One thing that beckons is his mission to make indoor soccer successful in this country. "I get so froostrated," says Tatu, his pronunciation losing a battle with his emotions. "Something is holding the game back, but I don't know what it is. I just want to break it down."