I felt the wind rush over me.
I heard the shouts sporadically reach me.
I saw the red of the sun from behind my eyelids.
And then… then I felt the ball collide with the tip of my boot. As my leg jerked with the impact, I knew it. I struck the ground hard, slid forward, and pushed myself up. I slipped and got back up again. Then I ran without looking back.
What a wonderful feeling!
…
He finally admitted it to himself. His dear nephew, his little Jordi, was good. No, he was really good! Half an hour had gone by, and Jordi had not made a single wrong decision.
Ferran could not understand how his nephew learnt to play like this. This wasn't football picked up from the small streets of El Raval. This was the football of his club and of that miraculous academy. Yes, amongst these 8-year-olds, Jordi did not have the best technique or the best physical traits, but Ferran was ready to bet that no other brat out there understood the game better than little Jordi.
As the noon sun warmed the air, Ferran could not help but think back to little Jordi's birth. It was the most difficult time of the siblings' lives, but it was worth it. These 5 years were filled with warmth so uncharacteristic of adulthood. Ferran closed his eyes to open them and return to the present. A chuckle escaped Ferran when he saw the stern focus on little Jordi's cute face.
Diego walked back and sat down next to Ferran.
"Did you see how he pointed to Juan?"
Ferran shook his head.
"He saw the space opening up behind the fullbacks, not even a minute after it did, Ferran. That… OH, what a pass, Jordi!" Diego scrambled up and back to the touchline, as Jordi sent a long aerial pass Juan's way.
Ferran also sprang up and jogged over to the touchline just as Juan's shot was deflected for a corner.
"That is what I was talking about, Ferran. This isn't the intelligence of a 5-year-old in his first proper game," Diego leaned over. He paused before continuing, "I, it's… It's just a pity. His other traits, the physique, the reactions, and the technique, are not there. Most of them can be drilled to a certain level, but…" Diego did not finish his sentence as Pedro was about to take the corner. Even if he had time, Ferran doubted if Diego would have finished his sentence.
Ferran would've thought more about Diego's words, but the ball was already in the air. Then, his body tensed up as the ball missed the keeper's outstretched hand, and he saw little Jordi dive. In the silent field, the ball made a deafening sound as it connected with Jordi's outstretched boot and went in.
Ferran's eyes widened, he looked around, and then shouted louder than he had shouted when Kluivert scored the fifth against Chelsea, louder than he had shouted when Leo scored that goal against Malaga. He pumped his fists in the air above him repeatedly for good measure. Then he felt a weight rush into him, which he instinctively held on to.
Ferran looked down to see little Jordi hugging him. He looked back up to a Diego smiling at him. From behind Diego, he could make out the entire team collectively running towards them. Finally, Ferran closed his eyes and hugged little Jordi tighter.
"This is what you missed out on, you animal," Ferran muttered to himself.