When the car came to a stop at the gates of Clairefontaine, Pierre got out and gave Julien a hug.
"The road ahead, you'll have to walk it yourself, but remember, we'll always be your support. You're the example for your younger brothers and sisters. Loup is training very seriously every day now—he longs to become a player like his big brother."
Joining the national team was an honor, but Pierre knew that the French national team was different from Bastia.
There were factions everywhere, frequent internal conflicts—so, this was definitely not an easy environment.
Julien nodded.
Pierre was still somewhat worried and reminded him again, "Don't be impulsive. You're still young, and the future is yours."
"Don't worry, I know how to handle it." Julien naturally understood what the current situation was like in the French national team.
He was confident there wouldn't be any problems.
First, he knew where France's future lay.
Second, he wasn't expecting to achieve anything significant on this trip—he was just here to occupy a spot. Even if he didn't make it into the final European Championship squad, it didn't matter.
This French national team's European Championship journey was destined to be fruitless.
Well, not entirely fruitless. At least it would be a case of "no destruction, no construction"—this would finally make the French Football Federation, which had always preferred to smooth things over, begin to firmly support the head coach.
If a team compromised or even fired its head coach because of one player's preferences, then that team was rotten to its core.
Pierre patted Julien's shoulder heavily.
Without realizing it, the boy had already grown more than half a head taller than him. He sighed softly, his emotions stirring.
He waved goodbye to Julien.
Even after Julien's figure disappeared through the gates of Clairefontaine, Pierre was reluctant to look away.
Clairefontaine had wide-ranging facilities.
When players came here for training camps, they only needed to bring some clothes at most—sometimes they didn't even need to bring clothes.
Under the guidance of staff members, Julien first sorted out his accommodation.
A double room.
But he was staying alone, as none of the current national team players were willing to be his roommate.
For a newcomer, this was normal.
After settling in, Julien headed to the training ground to report.
"Hey! Julien!!"
As he passed the U21 training ground, Julien heard a familiar voice.
Raphael Varane.
Julien immediately broke into a smile. "Hey, Raphaël!"
"Congratulations, Julien! You made it into the national team." Varane flashed his signature bright white teeth. "Zidane was right after all—you really are a genius. You're not even 18 yet and you've already made the national team. I don't even know when I'll get the chance... no, wait, if I'll get the chance to make the national team."
"Don't worry, we'll be teammates. I'll be waiting for you in the national team."
Varane scratched his head sheepishly. "I guess you'll have to wait a long time for that."
Before Julien could respond, another voice came from the side.
"Mate, you're really fast! We haven't even played a single official match together, and you've already made the national team."
"Don't worry, Antoine. With your ability, it's just a matter of time." Julien smiled at the owner of the voice—Antoine Griezmann.
"I still need to go report. See you later."
"See you, Julien."
Watching Julien's retreating figure, both Varane and Griezmann's eyes showed endless envy.
"I really can't believe it—he's already made it to the senior team while we're still fighting in the youth ranks," Griezmann sighed.
"Hey, that's someone Zidane recognizes. He told me to get close to Julien—his talent isn't just what we see now, he's nowhere near his ceiling yet."
As Varane spoke, he and Griezmann returned to the training ground, telling Griezmann about how Zidane supported Julien and how he usually described Julien's characteristics to him.
This made Griezmann even more envious.
What does it mean to be a genius? Julien De Rocca was the perfect example.
While heading to the senior team's training ground, Julien was also thinking that players like Varane and Griezmann were the teammates worth cultivating.
Where was the future of the French national team?
Not in the senior team.
But in the various youth teams.
As for those "veterans" in the current national team? They would eventually be swept into the trash heap.
The Four Little Swans? If they were really that impressive, would they need to be called the Four Little Swans? Would they need to be grouped together?
True genius stands alone!
Moreover, among these Four Little Swans, except for Menez who was relatively well-behaved, the other three were all ticking time bombs.
Benzema might look honest and harmless, but he was thoroughly despicable. Problems like conflicts with teammates and disrupting the locker room were minor issues.
Off the field, he had a history of soliciting minors, getting involved with underage girls together with Ribéry.
And that was just what got caught—what about what didn't get caught?
Furthermore, in a couple of years, he would even manage to blackmail and extort his own teammates.
Nasri and Ben Arfa were even worse with their tempers—whatever talent they had, their tempers were two or three times worse.
Both were players who dared to directly confront their head coaches. What kind of characters could they be?
Ben Arfa at Marseille even dared to threaten the head coach at the time—Belgian legendary right-back Gerets—by refusing to play.
This infuriated Gerets, who angrily called him a low-IQ maniac.
Nasri was no better.
If Julien remembered correctly, this year would mark the beginning of Nasri's rapid decline.
At Arsenal, he fit perfectly into Wenger's tactics and played brilliantly, but then in this summer's transfer window, he would backstab Wenger and join the wealthy Manchester City, after which his career would plummet.
Did they have talent?
Of course they did. The Four Little Swans became famous after the 2004 European Youth Championship.
Nasri was personally invited by Wenger to join Arsenal.
Menez was spotted by Ferguson, who strongly invited him to Old Trafford, though he didn't want to be a substitute and went to Roma in Serie A instead.
Menez was still the youngest hat-trick scorer in Ligue 1 history—17 years and 9 months old.
This record was almost impossible to break.
Why almost?
Because Julien still had a theoretical chance. As long as Bastia got promoted to Ligue 1 this season, and he could score a hat-trick in a match before August 29, 2012, he could break this record.
Benzema was bought by Real Madrid for a hefty transfer fee of 35 million euros.
Ben Arfa held the record as the only person to win five Ligue 1 titles before the age of 23.
But so what?
France's future championships would have nothing to do with them.
Soon enough, Julien reached the French senior team's training ground at Clairefontaine.
Assistant coach Crétin saw Julien and smiled. "Welcome to join us, Julien."
"Thank you."
Julien walked onto the field. Several players had already arrived, but many more hadn't.
Like the Four Little Swans.
Julien saw Giroud and walked over to him, saying, "Hello, I'm Julien De Rocca."
This Montpellier striker, who stood 1.92 meters tall, was actually quite shy.
"Hello, Julien. I'm Olivier Giroud."
________________________________________________________
Check out my patreon where you can read more chapters:
patreon.com/LorianFiction
Thanks for the support