They wouldn't remember the room Yanis trained in. Not the cracked tile floor he trained on, not the chipped wall where he hit one-touch passes for hours and not the mattress that sagged, or the window that never closed properly, or the one-meter space between the bed and the closet—just enough to dribble and barely enough to breathe.
But that was where it started. Not at a stadium, not at a trial and certainly not in front of cameras. But here in Bellevue, Marseille. In silence.
The same night the world watched France vs Argentina, the World Cup Final 2022, Yanis was training.
He didn't go to the café with his friends, didn't squeeze into the crowd shouting for Mbappé but watched the game on a small screen with a low sound and volume off.
Messi lifted the trophy, Mbappé scored a hat trick but still lost. The streets exploded, fireworks cracked and horns echoed down the alleyways of Marseille.
But at that moment, Yanis wasn't thinking about Messi or Mbappé.
He was thinking: What happens to the kids no one's watching?
In Bellevue, talent was common. Every court had a baller and every block had a striker. But consistency? Obsession? The kind of hunger that made you work in the dark? That was rare.
Yanis didn't have a personal coach, he had stopped training at AS Bellevue pitch because their training seemed basic to him. He had just his YouTube and a notebook filled with drills.
He didn't have elite gear. Just old boots patched with tape and a hoodie that was three winters too old.
He didn't have a sponsor, just the name his parents gave him and the belief that it had weight—even if no one else saw it yet.
He wrote the date in that notebook:
December 18, 2022. And under it:
"I'm not waiting for the world to notice. I'm making sure they can't ignore me."
While millions celebrated, Yanis was juggling a ball between his feet in a space no bigger than a closet. He didn't post clips and didn't go live because he needed no applause. All he needed was just a breath, sweat and footwork.
They won't remember the room. They'll only see the result—if he makes it. But this is where it begins. Not with a stadium, not with a scout and not with luck.
With one boy in a small apartment, chasing something bigger than anyone expects him to reach.