The training complex used for evaluations wasn't the usual La Masia field. It was the one behind the main facility — the one Azul had never been inside before. A place reserved for advanced sessions, private assessments, and rising talents who were being shaped for something bigger.
When Azul stepped through the gate, a shock of nerves surged through him.
The pitch looked almost unreal.
Pristine, perfect grass.
Tall nets.
Side cameras mounted on poles.
A row of staff members carrying tablets and clipboards.
This wasn't training.
This was judgment.
Pablo nudged him. "Whoa. They really… take this seriously."
Azul nodded silently.
Ahead of them, a group of around twenty boys warmed up. They looked older — some taller, some stronger, all of them already carrying themselves with the confidence of players who had been here before.
Azul recognized one of them almost immediately.
**LucaArderí**, the rumored future midfielder of Barça's U14 team. Taller, with sharp features and a calm arrogance in his posture. He was already being scouted by Spain's youth national teams.
Luca's cold eyes flicked toward Azul for half a second.
Judgment.
Dismissal.
Challenge.
Azul swallowed but kept walking.
---
Coach Morales led them to the sideline where **ScoutVergara** and two other staff members waited.
Vergara nodded at Azul. "Good. On time."
Azul bowed his head. "Thank you for inviting me."
"This isn't a reward," Vergara said. "It's an opportunity. What you do with it is yours alone."
Azul nodded again.
Morales leaned in and whispered, "Ignore their size. Ignore their reputation. You're here because you earned it."
Azul let the words steady him.
The other boys began sneaking glances at him, whispering among themselves.
*"That's the kid Morales talked about."*
*"He'ssmaller than I expected."*
*"He's U13? Why is he here?"*
*"If he thinks he's taking my spot—"*
Azul kept his face still.
He had learned long ago that silence made strength louder.
---
Vergara blew the whistle sharply.
"All players, gather!"
The group formed a half-circle. Azul stood at the edge, Pablo slightly behind him.
"Today is a mixed evaluation," Vergara announced. "Five segments. Ball control, scanning, decision-making, pressure resistance, and finally — match simulation."
A ripple went through the older boys. The match simulation was where evaluations were truly decided.
Vergara continued, "We'll begin with scanning drills. If you can't see, you can't play our football."
Azul inhaled deeply.
This was his territory.
---
### **Segment 1: Scanning**###
The drill was simple in structure but brutal in execution.
Players stood in a grid with markers on all four sides. A coach fed them the ball, and they had to control it, look up, identify a flashing colored card on one side, then pass to the correct mini-goal.
But the card flashed for **onesecond** only.
The highest-level Barça drills demanded rapid scanning — the mental equivalent of a heartbeat.
When Azul stepped in, the older boys watched him closely.
The coach fired the pass. Azul controlled it instantly, lifted his head, caught the flash of red on the far left, and released the ball like he'd known it before seeing it.
Vergara's eyebrow lifted.
Second ball.
Green — right.
Third ball.
Yellow — back.
Fourth ball.
Blue — diagonal.
Azul completed each one with perfect timing.
The murmurs grew louder.
The coach fed him the last pass — a deliberately difficult one bouncing off the ground toward his weaker right foot. Azul angled his body, used his first touch to kill the ball, head rising *before* it even settled.
Green.
He fired it smoothly to the target.
The coach nodded slowly.
Pablo whispered behind him, "Bruh… you're a machine."
---
### **Segment 2: Pressure Resistance**###
This drill shifted everything.
Players controlled the ball in a tight boxed-in area — while two defenders chased them down. The goal wasn't just to keep possession, but to exit the grid cleanly through the correct gate when a coach called a number.
Older players went first.
Some were quick, some clever, some physically imposing.
Then Azul stepped inside.
Two taller U14 defenders grinned like wolves.
The whistle blew.
They lunged.
Azul's mind sharpened instantly. Every movement around him slowed — not literally, but his perception shaped the game with clarity. He felt the pressure on his left shoulder, the angle of the defender's foot, the timing of the second boy approaching—
He feinted right.
Shifted left.
Rolled the ball past the first player.
Used a burst of speed to slip between both defenders.
"THREE!" the coach yelled.
Azul turned, spotted the third exit gate, and sprinted toward it—
—but one defender cut in front of him, blocking his path.
Azul didn't hesitate.
He flicked the ball backwards, rotated sharply, then cut diagonally through the defenders' blind spots.
A collective gasp came from the staff.
He exited gate three cleanly.
Vergara smirked. "Good."
---
### **Segment 3: Decision-making**###
This was the hardest.
A complex passing pattern drill with three teammates, three defenders, and shifting instructions. Players had to choose instantly whether to dribble, pass, wall-play, switch sides, or carry the ball into space.
Even the older boys struggled.
Some hesitated.
Some forced passes.
Some got dispossessed.
When Azul entered the drill, he felt tension rise around him. The older boys crossed their arms, watching like predators waiting for weakness.
The coach shouted, "Start!"
Azul's first touch was calm. He drew the pressing defender toward him, then slipped the ball past his legs with a perfectly weighted pass to the wing. Without waiting, he moved into space to receive again.
Next sequence — a wall pass.
Then a switch.
Then a third-man run.
Then a feint into an open lane—
He wasn't playing the drill.
He was solving it.
Vergara whispered something to Morales, who smiled subtly.
---
### **Segment 4: Duel Challenge**###
This was where emotion entered the pitch.
One-on-one duels.
Offense versus defense.
Older players versus Azul.
Luca stepped forward immediately when Azul's turn came.
"I'll take this one," Luca said, voice calm but cold.
Vergara raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
The other boys murmured.
Azul stepped forward too, heart pounding.
Luca was taller. Stronger. More experienced. A natural pivot player. A boy who wasn't used to losing.
Vergara dropped the ball between them.
"Play."
Luca charged aggressively, using his body to shield the ball. Azul pressed with quick steps, trying to angle him away—
Luca spun, cut inside, and powered through.
He scored with ease.
Azul swallowed.
Luca turned, an arrogant smirk on his lips. "Welcome to the real level, little one."
Whispers erupted around the field.
But Azul didn't respond.
He stepped back to position.
Vergara tossed the ball again. "Switch roles."
Now *Azul* had possession.
Luca smirked again, lowering his center of gravity. "Come on, then. Show me what Morales sees in you."
Azul's heart thudded.
Then… everything slowed.
Shoulder check.
Distance.
Weight.
Timing.
The angle of Luca's stance.
The pressure he expected.
The direction he was leaning—
Azul touched the ball lightly forward.
Luca lunged.
Azul used Luca's momentum against him, cutting the ball behind him, then twisting his hips to accelerate past.
Gasps.
Luca spun, furious, chasing him.
Azul kept the ball close.
Two touches.
Then another.
A burst of speed.
He approached the mini-goal—
Luca slid from behind—
Azul flicked the ball up and over the challenge.
The ball rolled into the net.
Silence.
Then whispers.
Then shock.
Vergara's smile widened.
Morales crossed his arms, hiding the pride in his expression.
Luca stared at Azul in disbelief.
The duel had shifted the room.
For the first time, the older players were not dismissing him.
They were recognizing him.
---
### **Segment 5: Match Simulation**###
Vergara blew the whistle.
"Two teams! Ten versus ten! Full intensity!"
Azul felt adrenaline surge through him.
This was where everything mattered.
This was where players earned their future.
Morales called out the teams. Azul was placed on the side with fewer physically developed players — more U13s, fewer U14 stars.
A challenge.
A test.
A signal: *Show us if you can carry them.*
Azul walked onto the pitch, pulse quickening.
Pablo gave him a thumbs-up from the sideline.
Vergara shouted the final instruction:
"This match will decide the evaluation."
Azul inhaled deeply.
And the whistle blew.
---
###**End= Chapter 20 – The Evaluation Begins**###