Recently, Inter Milan captain Lautaro Martínez gave an exclusive interview to reporters from camel.live, talking about the fire he shows on the pitch and sharing the scars he carries. From his childhood in poverty in Argentina to his recent defeat in the Champions League Final, the Inter Milan captain did not shy away from any questions or topics.
Lautaro, you just turned 28 (the interview was conducted on August 23, the day after your birthday). What unforgettable gift did you receive as a child?
The gift that had the biggest impact on me was my first pair of football boots—sky blue and white, just like the Argentine flag. It was a special and important gift because my parents worked extremely hard to buy it for me. It will always be etched in my heart, especially since I had a tough childhood.
What kind of environment did you grow up in?
My dad was a footballer and played in different cities. When he returned to Bahía Blanca, neither of my parents had a job, and our financial situation was really tough. We barely had any income. We often had to choose between paying rent and buying food. Later, a friend lent us a house, and we lived there for two years. I’m truly grateful to everyone who helped us, and to my parents too—they did everything they could to make sure we never went without the basics.
Did poverty leave a mark on you?
A deep one. Even today, I cherish everything; every little thing has value. Back then, my parents always thought of us first, making sure we had food to eat—even if that meant they sometimes went without. If I had to choose again, I’d go through the same childhood and the same daily struggles. It made me grow up and taught me so much.
I heard you’re a bit of a “clean freak.”
Yes, I am. I love order—I like everything to be clean and perfect. Cleaning is a form of “therapy” for me. When I’m feeling a bit stressed, I’ll vacuum, wipe the tables… sometimes even to the point where my wife tells me to calm down! I’ve been like this since I was a kid. My parents were always working, so I liked keeping the house tidy. That way, they wouldn’t have to clean when they got home. I tried to help out as much as I could. That’s how I was raised, and I still do it today because I enjoy it.
Is the fire and determination you show on the pitch something you’ve had since back then?
Yes, definitely. On the pitch, I give everything I have. Those moments are what I train for—moments for which I’ve sacrificed time with my family and my kids. Every game is unique, and I approach it with a strong sense of responsibility. Sometimes my family says I’m a bit crazy, that I overdo it, but that’s how I treat football. If I’m able to be captain of a team like Inter Milan today, it’s partly because of that past that made me strong.
When you were younger, being away from your family was hard—and your brother Alan even had an epileptic seizure when you left for Buenos Aires (to join Racing Club’s youth academy). Did you ever think about giving up?
Being away from my family was terrible. My older brother Alan and I are only 10 months apart—we always did everything together. When I left, he had health issues. For a while, yes, I thought about quitting. Luckily, my mom was there; she convinced me to stay in Buenos Aires to chase my dream of becoming a professional footballer. It’s thanks to her support and her strength that I have the life I dreamed of. Even today, at my parents’ house, I still sleep in the same bed I had as a kid. My mom refuses to get rid of it because she thinks about me every day.
Lautaro, let’s take you back to Bahía Blanca, where you were born and raised. What do you see when you think of that place?
I picture myself with Alan, playing football in the streets with him and our neighborhood friends—playing on the “potrero” (the local street dirt pitches), as we call them in Argentina. Even back then, I was a really serious kid.
How is the Lautaro of today different from that kid?
I probably have a few more gray hairs now. (Laughs) A lot has changed, especially financially—I can now give back to my family everything they gave me. That’s what makes me proudest. After all these years of sacrifice, we’ve been rewarded; we can live a different life and give my kids the chance to study. So yes, Lautaro has changed a bit. But I try to hold onto the values I was raised with: humility, respect, hard work, and sacrifice. My wife and I do our best to pass these on to our kids, even though they were born into a different reality.
What was your dream when you were a kid?
My dad was a footballer. We practically grew up in dressing rooms, spending all day on the pitch—so I always dreamed of being like him. Today, thanks to God and a lot of hard work, I’ve gotten that chance. My brother now plays football in Bahía Blanca too. We’ve both achieved our childhood dreams, following in our dad’s footsteps. He’s our role model, and I’m proud of that.
What’s your dream now?
I hope my kids grow up healthy. Professionally, I want to keep winning trophies with this great club, keep scoring goals, and keep improving. As a person, I want to be someone who is respected and loved—not just for what I do in front of the cameras, but for who I am behind them. I have a big heart, and I love helping people—especially those who are living the same kind of life I used to live, like the kids at Club San Juan in Bahía Blanca. Because I know exactly how they feel.
When you were a kid, you also loved basketball, right?
That’s true. My little brother Jano is a professional basketball player; he plays for Ferro. When we had to move, we ended up in a neighborhood with a basketball court. I fell in love with the sport. I’d play football in the morning or afternoon, then basketball at night—right up until I was 15. After that, I had to choose, and I picked football. That’s how I ended up here today.
Manu Ginóbili, the basketball legend, is also from Bahía Blanca—just like you!
Yes, and Pepe Sánchez too. A lot of players from Argentina’s “Golden Generation” are from Bahía Blanca. Three of them (plus Alejandro Montecchia) won the Olympic Games (Athens 2004). I’m good friends with them. When I go back to Bahía Blanca, I’ll chat with Pepe Sánchez. He owns a club, and he lets me use his gym for training. Then we even play basketball together!
Do you have any pre-match rituals?
A lot. Especially on the morning of a game—I try to do the same things every time, like setting my alarm for 8:01 exactly. All in all, a bunch of weird little rituals, but they help me find peace with myself. As soon as I get up, I put the kettle on to boil water for mate, then I take a shower. By the time I get out of the bathroom, the water is ready.
Do you have any rituals on the pitch too?
I step onto the pitch with my right foot first—that’s my strong foot. It’s pretty common in Argentina or South America; it’s supposed to bring good luck for the game. The rest I keep to myself—those are my little superstitions.
Where did your nickname “El Toro” (The Bull) come from?
A teammate from Racing Club’s youth team (in Avellaneda, on the southern outskirts of Buenos Aires) started calling me that from our first training session. I had a lot of strength, a strong desire to run, and I hit the ball really hard—so he said I was like a bull. It’s an animal that really represents me. When I was in Buenos Aires, I even got a bull tattooed here. (He takes off his watch and shows his left wrist.)
Do you enjoy physical battles and competition?
Yes, I love them. Physical duels get you into the game and give you more energy. If you win a duel, you keep going with even more confidence.
In 2021, you even had a “boxing match” with your coach Antonio Conte.
Back then, Conte and I had a little disagreement. But we worked it out in the end. My teammates set up a fake boxing ring as a joke—because it’s better to laugh things off. It was a great moment; it helped everyone relax.
Did you start as a defender because you like those physical battles?
My dad played as a defender, and I modeled all my moves after him—so I played that position too. I loved protecting our goal, being the last line of defense. Later, I grew taller, and the coach moved me up to the forward line—and I stayed there. But I still love defending!
Could your dad stop you from scoring?
Yes, I think he could. He was a really tough defender. Back then, it was hard for me to get past him. It would be a great battle—but at the very least, I’d hold my own.
Let’s talk about your tattoos. You have quite a few, like the bull…
On my back, I also have a big lion—that represents me—and a small lion, which symbolizes my two kids. If I have more kids, I’m not going to get 20 lions tattooed, so I just got one small one. Behind the lions, you can see a jungle and a path. It means I’m protecting them and trying to guide them down the right road.
What was your first tattoo?
It’s “Nestor”—that’s my grandfather’s name. He passed away when I was 2 years old. (He points to his right forearm.) I didn’t get to tattoo it until I was 14. Before that, my mom wouldn’t let me. To convince her, I said, “Mom, I want to get your dad’s name tattooed to honor him.” She couldn’t say no to that! After that, I kept getting more. Every tattoo has a meaning; they represent my family and my life. I have my parents’ names—Mario and Karina—with a praying hands symbol next to them. I have the names of my kids, my grandparents, my brothers… I also have the Virgin of Luján, because I’m religious. She’s always with me. Then, back here, I have a compass, a clock, and a quote that’s always with me: “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”
I also got a football tattooed with the date of my first appearance for Argentina (March 27, 2018, in a 1-6 loss to Spain) and the date of my professional debut for Racing Club (November 1, 2015). Everything has a meaning. These are key moments in my life, or things that are with me every day.
What will your next tattoo be?
I don’t know yet—I’m still thinking. I also want to fill up my right arm. For a while, I thought about getting the World Cup, the Copa América, and the trophies I’ve won with Inter Milan tattooed. But I didn’t do it because if I win all the trophies I dream of, there won’t be enough space for all of them. (Laughs) Maybe I’ll get the date of the World Cup final we won (December 18, 2022) tattooed. And the Champions League too, if I ever win it.
Before that, those lost Champions League Finals—even though they’re not tattoos, they’re scars…
We’ve played in two Champions League Finals in three years. Each time, we had an amazing run, but we always fell just short in the last game (a 0-1 loss to Manchester City in 2023). It was really, really painful. The most recent one (a 0-5 loss to Paris Saint-Germain on May 31) took a lot out of me; I struggled to accept it because we were so confident and well-prepared. When things don’t go as expected, the pain is even worse. These are scars that take time to heal.
Is this Paris Saint-Germain team stronger than Barcelona, who you knocked out in the semi-finals?
They’re two different teams. But I’ve always thought—and I told the people around me—that both of them were favorites to win the trophy. When we eliminated Barcelona (3-3 in the first leg, 4-3 in extra time in the second leg) using our strengths, our style of play, and our humility, we achieved our goal of reaching the final. And if we had played the way we prepared to, we had a real chance to win. But we didn’t.
During that heavy defeat to PSG, what did you feel on the pitch?
Helplessness. We couldn’t execute anything we’d prepared. That’s what frustrated us the most.
Was PSG just too unstoppable?
We knew it would be hard—they’re a strong, confident, and solid team that has won so many trophies. But in that game, we weren’t at our best, even though we’d stayed calm during our preparations. It was their day. They put in an incredible performance, and the result was deserved. I congratulated Achraf and Donnarumma—both of them played in Milan (Achraf for Inter Milan in the 2020-2021 season; Donnarumma for AC Milan from 2015 to 2021), and we’re good friends. Of course, I was happy for them.
Were you playing through an injury?
A little one. In the first leg against Barcelona, I pulled a muscle slightly. The doctors said I’d need 12 to 15 days to recover because there was a minor tear. In the six days leading up to the second leg, I did physio twice a day and trained in the gym. It still hurt the day before the game, but I wrapped it up and played anyway. When I won that penalty, my leg was really hurting.
There was no other option. Two days later, the pain doubled. I got it checked, and the injury was worse. I talked to the team doctor, and we tried to get me ready for the final as best we could. I pushed myself really hard in training, but the muscle never fully recovered. To be honest, I was fit enough to play—but I didn’t feel the same; I wasn’t at 100%.
How did you cope after the final?
Miserable. Miserable, miserable, miserable. After a few days off, I had to join the national team, and then we went to the United States for the Club World Cup right after. For a week, the pain was so intense—it was hard to process. After that, there was no time to wallow; I had to pick myself up and keep going. Turn the page, hold onto the good things, work on improving, fix what went wrong, and move forward.
Is it true you didn’t speak to anyone for five days after the final?
Yes. I wanted to talk to people, to my teammates, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t say a word. I was stuck. I felt anxious and sad because it was such a heavy blow. We’d had the chance to win three trophies (the Champions League, Serie A, and the Coppa Italia), but in the end, we finished with nothing. It’s the deepest pain I’ve ever felt.
How do you explain that collapse at the end of the season?
It’s hard to explain. Because that’s football—sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Napoli, who won Serie A, only focused on the league. They had rest; they prepared for one game a week. Since last year, we’ve had a backlog of games, fatigue, and injuries—and that meant some players couldn’t play in the big moments. It really showed. But we learn something every season.
To what extent did Simone Inzaghi’s future affect this late-season slump?
Not at all. Everyone is free to make their own decisions. The coach told us he’d received an offer and that he would be leaving. We stayed focused on our goals. He was professional until the end. We felt comfortable with him—he was our “leader.”
The end of the season also caused some tension. Do you regret the comments you made about Hakan Çalhanoğlu after the loss to Fluminense?
That was a misunderstanding. There were some things I didn’t like, but my comments were general (“Those who want to stay, stay; those who don’t can leave”)—they weren’t about him specifically. As captain, that’s what I thought in that moment. Some people liked it, some didn’t, but we’ve since talked to the team, the coach, and the management. Everything’s fine now; it’s all been cleared up. We’re united. Our new coach Zvonimir Soldo has helped us a lot in many ways. We’ll do our best to fight for him.
