16 August 2017
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Uncle Ferran: Reietó how long??
Jordi: On my way!
Jordi: Mister Segura stopped me to talk about the season.
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Jordi spotted the white Ford Monteo parked under the shade of the trees. Uncle Ferran had bought the fourth-generation model after little Teresa's birth last year. It was a definite upgrade on the barely surviving Ford Focus the family had replaced.
"Hello, Uncle."
"Reietó! You look so dashing in a suit. Just like your Uncle!"
Jordi scoffed at the remark. He tugged on the collar of his dress shirt. They had to attend several meetings today, so Jordi had no choice but to wear a suit. The black jacket and pants with the generic white dress shirt and royal blue tie were the only formal outfit he had that fit his current proportions.
Over the year, Jordi had grown 3" to a height of 5'7", already standing equal to his older teammates in Cadete A. His body was muscular but thin, especially for his new height. The passing year did show in the sharpening of Jordi's features and the lengthening of his messy black hair, which now reached his shoulders. Today, however, on Estel's recommendation, Jordi had tied his hair into a small bun. The hairstyle brought into focus Jordi's handsome face and deep ocean eyes.
"What did Pep Segura want, Reietó?"
"Just wanted to say a bunch of kind things that mean nothing. I'm sure he just recycled what someone mentioned to him, along with my report."
"Hah, I don't trust a single man that Bartomeu has chosen. What did he say?"
"'Oh Jordi, it is wonderful to see you develop so much. You have become a complete controller of the game this season. That deep-lying position is all yours. Sergio Busquets would be proud'.
Some more sentences like that. I stopped listening after a while."
"He isn't wrong, Reietó. I've seen your matches this season. You have shifted completely to the CDM position, and you play like a veteran.
Ok, ok. I'll stop complimenting you. Anyways, are you ready for the meetings?"
"Yes. You already know my preference, though."
"Of course. You want Adidas, but we will listen to Nike and Puma as well. If they give a better option, we'll have to rethink. Otherwise, we can use them as leverage as well. The Adidas people will already know that we are meeting others as well today."
"Ok."
…
Ferran had chosen a table near the far corner of Madam Sofia's restaurant. Right next to them was a ceiling window facing the west. In front of the window sat Jordi, waiting for the Nike personnel. Not long after they sat down, a man and woman walked in.
The man was young, maybe in his late twenties. His brown hair was thinning near the front, and he wore a warm smile that Jordi felt was too well-practised. He wore an all-black Nike tracksuit that was zipped up to his neck. The blonde woman to his right was dressed in a white dress shirt with black polka dots and a form-fitting formal skirt below. Her face was stoic and professional, a well-thought-out contrast to her partner.
"Hello, Mister Ferran. Oh, Hello, Jordi! It is great to finally meet you. I am Karl Holm," the jovial man skipped over to the table and presented his hand to Jordi.
Jordi rose out of his seat to shake Karl's hand, "It is nice to meet you, Mister Karl."
"Hello, Ferran. Hello, Jordi. My name is Anna Gruber. I am Spain's Marketing Manager for Nike," Anna first walked up to shake Ferran's hand before turning to shake Jordi's.
"Have a seat, please. Thank you for coming to meet us here," Ferran pointed to the two empty seats.
The man and woman thanked Ferran and sat down. For the next five minutes, Karl made small talk and seemed to actually enjoy it. Ferran contributed to the conversation, but Anna soon interrupted upon sensing Jordi's disinterest.
"So, Jordi. We have already had some discussions with Ferran, but it is important that we sit down to have a detailed conversation with you. We have been following you for some years now, and everyone at Nike is super excited for your future."
Anna continued upon Jordi's nod, "As your uncle must've told you, we cannot legally sign a contract involving financial incentives before you reach 18. What we wish to do is to make you exclusive with Nike. You will get 8 pairs of the latest Nike boots per year with all the training gear that you require— "
"Normally, we give between 3 to 6 boots for such contracts," Karl interrupted.
"In addition, we will invite you to the various Nike events and camps, covering your travel and medical. You will also have constant access to a representative assigned to you. In this case, it will be Karl here, who is the head scout for Nike in the Spain and Portugal regions."
Karl waved at Jordi to announce his presence. Jordi smiled politely at Karl.
"Thank you, Anna. Thank you, Karl. Jordi and I appreciate your sincerity. We will discuss this as a family and get back to you soon," Ferran spoke up to essentially announce the end of the meeting.
…
Minutes after the Nike duo left, two men from Puma arrived. Their pitch was similar, and the partnership details were identical to Nike's. Jordi, however, sensed more honesty from them; something he did not mention to Uncle Ferran for now. He would mention it to Estel later. She would translate his impressions as she usually did for him. The duo did not stay for long either and left soon after arriving. Jordi and Ferran did not discuss the two meetings and waited for the Adidas team in comfortable silence.
…
A man in his late 30s took a long drag from his cigarette outside the rustic entrance of Madam Sofia's restaurant. He was dressed in loose black pants, a crewneck grey t-shirt, and olive-coloured Adidas Campus 80s. The man had been standing there for a couple of minutes now, running his hand across his stubbled chin in deep thought. He turned towards the ordinary storefront opposite the restaurant. Above the entrance, the sign read 'Llibreria de Fantasia'. The man scrutinised the bookstore for some time. Then, in an abrupt movement, he flicked his cigarette and turned to walk inside.