October 3rd, 2027. The day of Barcelona's Champions League opener against Bayern Munich at the Allianz Arena. Ethan woke at 7:23 AM in the team hotel in Munich, his phone showing a new message from Sofia sent two hours earlier:
Sofia:Lucas rolled over three times in a row this morning. He's so proud of himself. Wish you were here to see it. Good luck tonight. We love you. ❤️
Attached was a video of Lucas on his play mat, rolling from his back to his stomach, looking surprised by his own achievement, then doing it again.
Ethan watched it seven times. His son was six months old now. Growing. Learning. Experiencing the world for the first time. And Ethan was in Munich, preparing for a football match.
The guilt was becoming unbearable.
He texted back: I'm sorry I missed it. Tell him daddy is so proud. I'll be home tomorrow. Love you both.
Then he got up, showered, and tried to shift his mind into match mode. Bayern Munich. The Allianz Arena. One of the hardest away matches in European football.
No room for distractions. No room for guilt. Just focus.
Pre-Match Team Meeting
Flick gathered the squad at 10:00 AM in the hotel conference room. The atmosphere was tense—everyone understood what tonight meant.
"Bayern Munich," Flick began, "is not just any opponent. This is a club that's won the Champions League six times. A club that never accepts defeat at home. They will press you relentlessly. They will attack you constantly. They will make you doubt yourselves."
He clicked his remote. Bayern's lineup appeared on screen:
Bayern Munich (4-2-3-1):
GK: Neuer DEF: Davies, Upamecano, De Ligt, Kimmich MID: Goretzka, Kimmich ATT: Musiala, Müller, Sané FWD: Kane
"Harry Kane is their main threat," Flick continued. "He's in the form of his life. Finally playing for a club that can win the Champions League. He's desperate to prove he belongs at this level."
More footage showing Kane's recent performances—powerful headers, clinical finishing, intelligent movement.
"But we can beat them. We're better than them. We just need to execute perfectly for ninety minutes. No mistakes. No lapses in concentration. Total focus."
After the meeting, Ethan stayed behind with Pedri and Ter Stegen.
"You okay?" Pedri asked. "You seem distracted."
"I'm fine. Just thinking about the match."
"You're lying," Ter Stegen said bluntly. "I've been your teammate for six years. You're thinking about Lucas."
Ethan hesitated, then nodded. "He rolled over for the first time today. I missed it."
"You'll miss a lot of things," Ter Stegen said, not unkindly. "That's the reality of this job. But tonight, you need to be present. Tonight, you need to be the best player in the world. Your family will still be there tomorrow."
Harsh words. But true. And exactly what Ethan needed to hear.
"You're right. Tonight, I'm a footballer. Tomorrow, I'm a father. Let's win this match."
The Allianz Arena - 9:00 PM Kickoff
The stadium was an intimidating wall of red. 75,000 Bayern fans creating an atmosphere that made the air itself feel hostile. The noise was physical, pressing down on the Barcelona players as they walked out of the tunnel.
Ethan touched the grass with his right hand—his pre-match ritual—and looked around. This was one of football's great cathedrals. And tonight, he'd have to be exceptional just to survive.
The referee—a Spanish official named Mateu Lahoz, known for being strict—blew his whistle.
KICKOFF.
First Half - Under Siege
Bayern attacked from the first second. Wave after wave of red shirts pressing Barcelona deep into their own half. The intensity was suffocating.
Eighth minute: Kane had the first real chance. A header from six yards out. Ter Stegen saved brilliantly.
Fourteenth minute: Sané shot from distance. Deflected wide for a corner.
Twenty-third minute: Bayern scored.
A brilliant team move. Kimmich to Goretzka to Musiala. Quick one-twos that sliced through Barcelona's midfield. Musiala crossed low. Kane arrived at the penalty spot.
Tap-in. 1-0 Bayern.
The Allianz Arena erupted. Bayern were dominating. Barcelona were hanging on by their fingernails.
Flick was screaming instructions from the touchline, but the noise drowned him out. Barcelona needed to survive this storm.
Thirty-fourth minute: Bayern should have doubled their lead. Müller one-on-one with Ter Stegen. The German goalkeeper somehow saved it.
Heroic defending. But unsustainable.
Forty-fifth minute, stoppage time: Barcelona struck against the run of play.
Ter Stegen's long ball forward. Ethan chased it down, using his pace to beat Upamecano. One-on-one with Neuer now.
The Bayern goalkeeper rushed out. Ethan could have shot. But he saw the angle was tight. So he dinked it over Neuer with outrageous confidence.
The ball floated toward the empty net. Davies sprinted back desperately, lunging, reaching—
Not enough. The ball crossed the line.
1-1.
The away section—maybe 3,000 Barcelona fans—went absolutely mental. Against all odds, Barcelona had equalized just before halftime.
Ethan's celebration was muted. Just a point to the sky, a quick hug from Lewandowski. He knew this match was far from over.
Halftime - Flick's Adjustments
The Barcelona locker room at the Allianz Arena was small and uninspiring. But Flick used the space to make crucial tactical adjustments.
"We survived the first half," he said. "Barely. They dominated us. But we're level. That's all that matters."
He drew on the tactical board, showing where Bayern were vulnerable.
"They're pushing their fullbacks very high. Davies and Kimmich are basically wingers. That leaves space in behind. Second half, we exploit that. Ethan, Raphinha—you two need to stretch them. Make them afraid to push forward."
More diagrams. More instructions.
"If we can score one more, they'll panic. Munich hasn't lost at home in the Champions League in three years. The pressure of that streak will crush them. But we need to score."
Second Half - The Captain Delivers
Bayern came out aggressive again, still pressing high, still attacking relentlessly. But Barcelona were better prepared now.
Fifty-sixth minute: Barcelona took the lead.
Koundé won the ball in defense and immediately played it forward to Pedri. The Spanish midfielder turned beautifully, evading two Bayern challenges.
He looked up. Saw Ethan making a run between Bayern's center-backs. The pass was weighted perfectly.
Ethan collected it, took one touch to control, and as De Ligt slid in desperately, he lifted the ball over the challenge and struck it with his left foot.
Neuer dove. Couldn't reach it.
2-1 Barcelona.
The goal was pure class. The away section erupted. Bayern looked stunned—they'd dominated for sixty minutes and were somehow losing.
Flick's prediction was correct. Bayern panicked.
They threw everyone forward. Pushed their entire team into Barcelona's half. Left huge spaces in behind.
Seventy-fourth minute: Barcelona exploited those spaces perfectly.
Bayern corner. Cleared by Araujo. Suddenly Barcelona had a four-on-two counter-attack.
Gavi drove forward with the ball. Ethan on his left. Raphinha on his right. Ferran Torres trailing.
Two Bayern defenders had to make an impossible choice: who to cover?
They split, one going to Ethan, one to Raphinha. Wrong decision.
Gavi played it to Ferran Torres, who'd made a late run through the middle. The Spanish forward was completely unmarked.
Simple finish. 3-1 Barcelona.
Game over. Bayern's unbeaten home record in the Champions League was done.
The final fifteen minutes were academic. Bayern tried to attack, but their spirit was broken. Barcelona managed the game professionally.
The referee blew the final whistle. Barcelona 3-1 Bayern Munich.
One of the most impressive away performances in Champions League history. Against one of Europe's elite. At the Allianz Arena. Ethan had scored twice. Led his team to victory.
This was what greatness looked like.
Post-Match
The mixed zone was chaos. Every journalist in Europe wanting quotes from Barcelona's heroes.
Ethan, exhausted but professional, faced the cameras.
"Ethan, two goals at the Allianz Arena. How does it feel?"
"It feels like we executed our game plan perfectly. Bayern is an incredible team. To beat them here, you need to be exceptional. Tonight, we were."
"You've now scored 672 career goals. When do you think you'll reach 700?"
"I don't focus on individual milestones. I focus on team success. If scoring goals helps Barcelona win matches, I'll keep scoring."
"Bayern dominated the first half but you still won. What changed?"
"We stayed calm. Didn't panic when they were better than us. Found our moments. That's what champions do—they find ways to win even when they're not at their best."
Perfect answers. Professional. Team-focused. Exactly what the media wanted.
Later, on the team bus back to the hotel, Lewandowski sat beside Ethan.
"Six hundred and seventy-two goals," the Polish striker said. "I'm at seven hundred and one. You're going to pass me this season."
"Maybe."
"Not maybe. Definitely. You're twenty-seven. I'm thirty-nine. Your prime is now. Mine was five years ago." Lewandowski paused. "Can I give you some advice?"
"Of course."
"Don't let the goals define you. Yes, they're important. Yes, they're how history remembers strikers. But what really matters is the moments you create for others. The times you sacrifice your own glory for the team. That's what legends do."
"Is that what you did?"
"Not always. And I regret it. I chased individual records too much. Won scoring titles but not enough Champions Leagues. Learn from my mistakes."
Ethan absorbed this. Lewandowski had three Champions Leagues—impressive but not legendary. Ethan had eight. The difference? Team-first mentality.
"Thank you," Ethan said. "That's genuinely helpful."
"You're welcome. Now stop scoring so many goals. You're making the rest of us look bad."
They both laughed.
October 4th - Coming Home
Ethan arrived back in Barcelona at 2:17 PM. Exhausted. Drained. But happy.
Sofia and Lucas were waiting at home. His son was on his play mat, practicing the rolling motion he'd just mastered.
"Show daddy what you can do," Sofia said.
Lucas looked at Ethan, then rolled over. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time looking more proud of himself.
Ethan lay down on the floor beside him. "That's amazing, mijo. You're so strong."
Lucas grabbed Ethan's nose. His grip was surprisingly firm for a six-month-old.
"He missed you," Sofia said. "Cried every time he saw your photo."
"I missed him too. Missed you both."
"How was the match?"
"We won. I scored twice. Beat Bayern at the Allianz Arena."
"I watched. You were incredible. But Ethan—" Sofia's expression changed "—we need to talk about something."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. But Lucas is growing up fast. Really fast. And you're missing so much. First time rolling over. First real laugh. First time sleeping through the night. All of it happened while you were away."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Just... think about what you want. Because you can't be the best footballer in the world AND be present for every moment of Lucas's childhood. Something has to give."
She was right. And Ethan knew it.
Three moves ahead, his choices were becoming clearer:
Move one: Continue at this pace. Win everything. Miss Lucas's childhood. Become a legend but absent father.
Move two: Reduce his workload. Rest more. Be more present. Risk falling behind. Risk losing his edge.
Move three: Find a balance somehow. The impossible middle ground.
But right now, lying on the floor with his son grabbing his nose, Ethan didn't want to think about the future.
He just wanted to be present. Right here. Right now.
With the people who mattered most.
October 10th - Reflection
Late at night, while Sofia and Lucas slept, Ethan sat in his home office looking at his career statistics:
Age: 27 years, 9 monthsCareer goals: 672This season: 14 goals in 11 matchesChampions League opener: ✅ Win vs Bayern Munich
He opened his laptop and started writing in a private document he'd been keeping since he was eighteen. A journal of sorts. Thoughts he'd never shared with anyone.
October 10th, 2027
I'm the best footballer in the world. Five Ballon d'Ors. Eight Champions Leagues. Everything I've ever wanted.
But Lucas rolled over for the first time and I wasn't there. He laughed for the first time and I was in Munich. He's six months old and I've missed half of it.
Sofia says something has to give. She's right. But I don't know what to give up. Football is who I am. Being great is what I do. How do I stop being that person?
Maybe I can't. Maybe this is the price of greatness. Maybe I'm destined to be an absent father just like so many legendary players before me.
Or maybe I figure out the impossible. Maybe I find a way to be both—present father and world's best player.
Three moves ahead:1. Win this season's treble2. Be there for Lucas more3. Figure out how to do both without losing either
I've achieved the impossible before. I can do it again.
Right?
He saved the document and closed his laptop.
Tomorrow, Barcelona had training. Then a La Liga match on Saturday. Then another Champions League match the following week.
The relentless schedule continued. The pressure never stopped.
But neither did Ethan Loki.
That's what made him great. That's what made him legendary.
And that's what made him terrified he was failing as a father.
End of Chapter 74