4 February 2018
Jordi Lloret walked the long way back to his dorm room. His Juvenil B team had just lost to Espanyol's Juvenil team and was now third in the league. Jordi's free kick was the only goal they scored in the 3-1 defeat. As the most recent addition to the squad, Jordi found it difficult to make any decent impact on the other players. His frustration was difficult to contain at this point.
"Brother, that was a decent free kick."
An 11-year-old kid swaggered up to Jordi and interrupted his thoughts. He was flanked by three other kids, forming a posse. Despite his frustration, an amused smile graced Jordi's face. It was not every day that you heard such a braggadocious tone in a stranger.
"Thanks."
"It's a shame everyone else in your team is so shit. Anyone half decent could finish your chances today, and we would've won by 2 or 3 goals. You should get them to send you to Juvenil A or something. "
"Oh?"
"Coach Diego says that you're the best kid he has trained. Even better than me. I think he is lying, though."
Jordi could not hold in his laughter anymore, "Haha, he just exaggerates."
"I know. You should come watch me someday. I'm really good! These guys are decent as well," he pointed to his group.
"Really? Will I get to know your names?"
The boy snorted. Apparently, he found Jordi's question to be funny.
"This tall guy is Marc Bernal, he is Héctor Fort, and that is Marc Guiui."
"And you?"
"Lamine Yamal!"
Lamine and his crew did not wait for Jordi's acknowledgement. The moment Lamine was finished, he led them off to somewhere. Jordi shook his head and chuckled. Having walked out of the Juvenil B dressing room, he really needed this lightheartedness.
…
After taking a second shower in his dorm, Jordi settled down in his chair, his feet propped up on the windowsill. He quickly sent Gavi a link to the Hoffenheim vs. Schalke match he was recently watching. As with anything Jordi did, Gavi had picked up watching full 90-minute highlights. He, however, would usually skip 70 to 80 minutes of each game.
Jordi reached over to the study table and picked up 'Of Mice and Men' he was currently reading. The bookmarked page was surrounded by various variants of the 3-4-2-1 and 3-5-2 setup Hoffenheim had deployed in the season. The splices of texts next to the figures were concise and insightful. All the Bundesliga managers would be willing to pay very decently to get their hands on the book. For now, Jordi continued reading to reset himself after the difficult game.
…
The phone's ring brought Jordi out of his trance. It was his uncle calling. Jordi folded the page and closed the book before picking up.
"Reietó? Are you there?"
"Hello, Uncle."
"Reietó! Reietó! You've been called up. Spain U16 vs. England U16 friendly!"
"Oh," Jordi was at a loss for words. A lifelong dream was fulfilled so suddenly that he was not able to process it.
"Yes, reietó. You're going up to Madrid for the camp this Thursday. The game will be on the 16th… Wait, your mother wants to talk."
"Jordi, my baby, you'll play for the national team! Isn't that incredible?"
"Yes, mama," Jordi chuckled. His mother had a way of simplifying everything. It was incredible. It truly was incredible.
"I am so proud of you, baby! Your uncle said you'll be home tomorrow. We'll properly celebrate. Here, here. Why don't you video call? Teresa is here as well."
…
_____________________________
Jordi: Hey! I got a call-up for U16 friendly vs England.
Jordi: Camp starts on Thursday.
Estel: No wayy
Estel: I am on the bus back to the dorm rn
Estel: Meet around 8?
Jordi: Ok
Jordi: I have my call with Alessandro soon so I might be a bit late.
Estel: Np, Ombreta…
_____________________________
Balde: I got called up for U16!!!
Gavi: So did I
Eric: Congratulations!
Fati: Congrats… Wait till next year for my citizenship.
Gavi: You're literally with Balde and me right now Fati...
Fati: Shut up. These are basic manners.
Balde: Eric and Jordi?
Eric: Nope. Apparently, I'll be joining the U17 side now.
Gavi: If we have been selected then of course Jordi was called up
Balde: Calma Gavi.
Balde: Just confirming.
Jordi: Got a call up!
Jordi: Busy rn, will celebrate later.
_____________________________
The laptop screen blinked to a blanket of cigarette smoke covering Alessandro Rineldi's stubbled face. The Italian, unrushed as ever, tapped his cigarette on the ashtray and took a sip of his cortado.
"So, Signor Jordi, how was the game?"
"Awful. We lost 3-1," Jordi replied curtly.
"Ah. Nothing else? You didn't score a free kick?"
"Your secret contacts again? Yes, I scored one."
"Haha, I still don't understand how you are so unbothered by your achievements."
"We lost."
"Never mind. Are you ready for your lesson?"
Over the past 4 months, upon Jordi's request, Alessandro had been teaching him Italian every week. This was already Jordi's 5th language after Catalan, Spanish, English, and some French. Ever since Aunt Ona taught him English and French, Jordi was captivated by languages. He realized how amazing it was to read books in their original languages. He also loved reading the same book in different languages because they felt and tasted different in each.
"Signore," Alessandro had ordered Jordi to refer to him as signore during the lessons, "I got called up."
"Really? That is brilliant. Is it for the friendly against England U16?" Only Alessandro's surprise could contain such nonchalance.
"Yes."
"That's great news, Jordi. I need to inform the team at Adidas. This needs to be added to your file."
"I'll be travelling to Madrid on Wednesday. Camp starts on Thursday."
"You went for your fitting and boot customization last month, right? We'll have to get you your new boots sooner than planned. Still the Copa 18s? I tell you, a lot of the top midfielders are wearing the Predator 18+ for its control."
"I like how the Copa 18 feels."
"Yes, that is most important. You'll get 2 customized pairs in Madrid by Wednesday or Thursday."
"Thanks, Alessandro. How's your scouting of Estel going?"
"Merda! Jordi, how could you hide such a talent from us for so long? I'll personally fly in to sign her soon."
"That's good!"
Alessandro felt helpless. How could the boy be more excited for this than his national team call up?
"Let's get back to Italian, signore. Are we studying today or are you off to celebrate?"
"Let's continue. When will you send me the original Italian copies of Italo Calvino?"
"Haha, soon, very soon."