Don't Be a Frango. Tchê Tank.

"Tchê" is how you get someone's attention in Rio Grande do Sul, the last state before Brazil ends. It sits somewhere between "hey" and "brother," and it marks you instantly as being from there.

People from that state are gaúchos. The closest thing you have is the cowboy, and that's not a coincidence: horsemen working open grassland, a job that mostly disappeared and left behind an identity nobody will give up. Bombachas instead of jeans. Chimarrão instead of coffee, hot mate from a gourd that gets passed around the circle. Churrasco instead of barbecue, which is where your Brazilian steakhouse came from. Rodeos, boots, and a state flag flown harder than the national one.

Same code, too. You're judged on what you can do outdoors, in bad weather, with an animal that outweighs you. Not on what you own or say.

Which is why both places have a word for the guy who's all show. Texas says all hat and no cattle. Rio Grande do Sul says frango. Chicken.

You know the type. Picks the weight he already knows he can lift. Films the set, skips the set. Buys the boots, never gets on the horse. Cooks brisket on a gas grill and calls it barbecue.

The back of this tank reads "lugar de frango é no espeto." A chicken belongs on a skewer, over the fire.

Thermo dry fabric, 92.5% polyester and 7.5% elastane. Dries fast, light, moves with you, holds its shape and its color from the gym to the rest of your life, wear after wear.

Don't be a frango.

#DIESTRONG