A year on, and FC Barcelona Infantil A found themselves up against Real Madrid Infantil A for the final of the LaLiga Futures U14 tournament once again. Their captain was still the infamous Ombreta, Jordi Lloret, who had won the best player award in the previous tournament. This would be his last match with the Infantil A. Next season, the soon-to-be 12-year-old would move up to the Cadete (U15) level.
Jordi pulled the Senyera captain's armband up his left arm as he led his team out to the pitch. Today, he wore Messi's red-white F50 Adidas Adizero. Over the season, Nike and Adidas had regularly sent him boots and gear. Even New Balance and Puma had sent over their latest boots once.
This was a common phenomenon at top-tier academies. Major companies would approach generational talents with unofficial cooperation via free boots and invitations to events. They would follow this up with long-term contracts to bring in the talent. Nike had already approached Jordi for a contract, but his family had rejected it. They did not want Jordi to be pushed into any partnership this early.
Jordi scanned the crowd of around 200 spectators. He first spotted his Uncle Ferran and Aunt Ona, mostly because Uncle Ferran was jumping around and waving at him like a madman. Jordi gave a subtle wave back before Aunt Ona pinched Uncle Ferran to a halt. Jordi's eyes travelled further back into the crowd. There she was!
In her training kit, she sat near the top of the movable stands. She was so pretty.
Jordi's gaze froze on the hulking figure sitting next to Estel. He was dressed up in a three-piece suit, emitting a confidence that belonged to the wealthy alone. He was Ignacio Soler, a lawyer with a reputation spread through Catalunya. More importantly, he was Estel Soler's father.
Jordi quickly averted his gaze and studied the woman to the left of Estel. Estel's brown hair and hazel eyes; she must be Alicia Pope, Estel Soler's mother. Jordi liked her much better. She seemed warm. Like his mother.
…
Estel Soler wore a mesmerising smile as her eyes met his. His long, messy hair was wet and combed back today. The sharp features and inviting blue eyes on full display. He looked like a handsome warrior going into battle. Estel gauged her father's expressions. Was he impressed by how cool her Ombreta looked?
"Which one is your friend, Estel?" Alicia Pope asked her daughter.
Estel snorted, "I told you, Mama. He is the captain. Look, he is only 11 and captains the 14-year-olds."
Alicia smiled at her daughter's antics. She was still caught off guard by Estel's behaviour, seeing her daughter, so headstrong and sure about herself, worrying about this boy. Alicia glanced at her husband, whose snort was eerily similar to Estel's. Alicia chuckled, and Estel glared at him.
…
Starting XI
1- Marc Vilanova, GK
4- Pol Ferrer, RB
3- Eric Garcia, RCB
13- Santiago, LCB
2- Dominic Adams, LB
6- Jordi Lloret, CDM [C]
15- Robert Navarro, RCM
8- Illaix Moriba, LCM
10- Omar Diop, RW
9- Sergi Gomez, ST
11- Ansu Fati, LW
…
"Let's go, guys. We know we are better, right? So, we play them out of the game. As Coach Marcel said, trust your teammates. Come on, Visca Barca!" Jordi gave his last-minute talk before the huddle separated.
"Sergi, find the right time to make your runs, okay. You'll have plenty of space to score when they get tired in the second half. Make sure you preserve your energy for then."
Sergi put a thumbs up and winked at Jordi, "Watch me score a hat-trick today, Hermano. I will dedicate it to you."
"Idiot," Ansu shouted from the left wing when he overheard Sergi.
"Idiot," Estel thought when she saw Sergi wink at Jordi. It is safe to say, Estel Soler had no soft spot for Sergi Gomez, who would always interrupt the time she spent with Jordi.
...
"FWHEE"
The referee blew his whistle, and, in two passes, the ball made its way to the conductor of the Blaugrana. The initial minutes played out as a reflection of the entire season. Jordi 'Ombreta' Lloret, the pivot of Barca, dictated the fate of the game.
Marked by two white shirts, Jordi circulated the ball throughout the pitch. Normally, he could skip away and run into space, but he was minimizing his touches on the ball today. Only Coach Marcel Sans understood that he was taking away two Madrid players, creating a superiority for the midfield and attack in front of him. Jordi was writing his own delicate script.
17'
Johan Cruyff often used to say, "The ball always runs faster than the player." RM were learning this the hard way as their heavy press could never catch up with the ball. Barcelona, while not as aggressive as they usually were, had passed around the Los Blancos, who were already breathing heavily. Jordi, in the pivot, had 32 touches already, 21 of which were successful passes.
Ansu Fati received the ball and, under pressure from the right back and centre back, was forced back towards his own goal. Seeing a route, he drilled a pass to Jordi, who was resting in front of his defense. The two forwards marking Jordi shifted to cover any passing lanes in front of him. However, Jordi did not pause and circulate the ball towards the other side. As Ansu's pass reached him, Jordi swung his left foot without taking a touch.
Every boy in White and Blaugrana stood watching as the ball sailed above their heads. Necks turned, and bodies shifted to watch on as the ball fell pinpoint into the path of Sergi Gomez, the entire Real Madrid outfield far behind him. Two heavy touches took Sergi to the edge of the box, from where he shot with power into the top right corner, no thought given to the keeper who had run off his line to intercept.
1-0!
Sergi Gomez sprinted into celebration, waving his arms around like a madman. He was soon tackled to the ground by Ansu before the rest of the team joined in. The spectators, however, were all staring at the striking appearance of the boy who had so nonchalantly given an assist that would go into the career compilations of any professional midfielder.
Jordi's celebration was subtle, especially compared to that Sergi Gomez kid. High-fives to the team and then leading them back for kick-off. This was truly just another day for La Masia's prodigy.
The same could not be said for the man Jordi Lloret had waved at before the match. He was screaming and shouting in celebration, alarmingly similar to the striker on the pitch. The woman next to the man slapped the back of his head when he was about to take his shirt off to celebrate. They must be the striker's family, right?
…
33'
Juanmi took hold of a loose back pass by Moriba and shaped up for only Real Madrid's 2nd shot of the half. Unfortunately, as he lifted his foot for the shot, a red and white boot poked the ball from behind him. Who else could it be but Jordi Lloret?
Having recovered the ball, Jordi had no time as two players pressed him. A midfielder ran up to him from his front while the striker he had dispossessed pressed Jordi from his right. Everyone was attentive, seeing the Barca captain in trouble for the first time.
Only Estel Soler spotted the serene expression and sparkling eyes. Familiar with that look, she relaxed back in her seat.
Jordi was going to boot the ball to safety. The Madrid midfielder stuck out his leg to block the clearance while the striker pressured from Jordi's right. Then, in a moment that would grow into a magical tale, Jordi bent his leg and touched the ball behind him. Jordi made a Cruyff Turn!
Jordi, with the two Madrid players behind him, had acres of green to run into. A tempting proposition for any player, but Jordi, ever calculative, released a lobbed pass to Omar Diop running on the right wing.
Omar Diop took a beautiful touch to bring the ball down. He then cut back into the path of Sergi Gomez, who took a touch and crossed it into the box. Above the white shirts rose Ansu Fati, who headed the ball into the net.
2-0!