La Masia Director, José Alexanko, found Jordi Lloret practising free kicks after the training session. José had kept himself updated on Jordi over the past two years. The recent report on him, by his coach Pau Moral, had mentioned Jordi's hard work that left all his teammates behind.
Jordi was about to take another free kick when José walked towards him. José deliberately slowed down. One, two, three steps. In the fourth step, Jordi planted his right foot and kicked the ball with his left with perfect technique.
The ball was struck with power and curved inside towards the top-left of the goal, only to skim the top of the bar. José sucked in a deep breath at how cleanly the free kick was taken. A shame that it did not go in.
José Alexanko seemed to overlook the fact that Jordi took that free kick with his weak foot.
"Jordi, son! That was a brilliant free kick."
Jordi looked up and gave a polite nod as acknowledgement.
'Solitary and focused. Possesses a quiet confidence.' José Alexanko smiled when he recalled part of the report on the kid.
"Jordi, there is someone who watched you play against Espanyol. They were very impressed."
"Who is it, mister?"
If José expected a childish thrill on Jordi's face, he was seriously let down.
"Son, it is THE Johan Cruyff. Now, you may not realise—" José wanted to expand on Cruyff's stature to instil the significance of the event in Jordi, but it seemed there was no need for that.
The sparkle in Jordi's azure eyes resembled the Mediterranean Sea in the afternoon. The calm presence of a stoic was replaced by the nervous excitement of a boy.
…
Jordi still could not grasp how he found himself sitting in front of Johan Cruyff. The weathered face in front of Jordi was so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. As he stared at Johan Cruyff, he found there to be so much more there than just the footballer and manager Jordi had lived as. He felt an urge to sit by this deity and learn everything about him.
"So, little Jordi, who is your favorite player?"
"Messi"
Jordi spotted the smirk on Johan Cruyff's face. He wondered if he should've taken Cruyff's name, but that would not be true.
"Yesterday, why did you never pass to that boy on the left wing?"
"He was staying too wide. He would be isolated whenever he got the ball near the touchline."
"Before the first goal, why…"
From then on, there were only two people in a world of their own. Everyone disappeared into the background. The spirited old man questioned, and the contemplative boy replied. Now and then, they would counter each other. They talked without break as peers of equal status.
...
Jordi hid the reluctance in his eyes as Mister Alexanko led him out by the shoulder. Upon his request, Mister Alexanko took several pictures of Johan Cruyff and him. Cruyff even signed a long message on his Messi shirt that Jordi had not read yet.
"Little Jordi."
I looked back to see Cruyff walk up to me.
He leaned down and placed a hand on my head, "This is important"
Then he placed his hand on my heart, "but football deserves to be played with this."