At the brink of half-time, Barca had doubled their lead. Once again, the focus remained on the spectacular pivot. Many in the crowd realized that they had lived through something magical, something important.
Soon after, the whistle for half-time rang. The spectators directed pitiful looks towards the Real Madrid kids walking back. The poor boys had not sniffed the ball this half. Had it been measured, Barcelona would surely have had around 85% of the possession. While the entire team was complicit, the main culprit was clearly the Blaugrana captain.
The Real Madrid team, fueled by fresh legs, came out strong in the second half. The defensive cover of Eric Garcia, Santiago, and Jordi Lloret proved to be impenetrable. The Los Blancos, however, did succeed in shaking up the Barca players, who became impatient and prone to errors.
39'
A miscued clearance by Eric Garcia fell kindly to Juanmi, the RM striker, who put it in behind for a one-on-one scenario with the keeper. Franz, with a fake shot, sent Mark Vilanova the wrong way. As he was striking the ball into the empty goal, Eric Garcia knelt and placed his head in his hands. The Barca players looked on in frustration as Madrid were about to pull one back.
Yet, there was one boy who was sprinting back, ignoring the prickling pain in his lungs. The exact moment the ball left Franz's foot, the boot of Jordi, who was already sliding in, came in front. The ball ricocheted off the toe end of the boot and went just past the outside of the post.
Each and every player, coach, and spectator stared wide-eyed at the boy lying flat on the ground. Eyes closed, taking large gulps of breath, hand on his chest. The elder among the crowd all recalled another captain of Barcelona, long hair whipping in the air as he dove in to block a goal. The image overlapped with the captain on the pitch, lying on the ground and patting his chest, right where the badge was stitched on.
If anyone directed their attention to the man who had been madly celebrating in the first half, they would be surprised to see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Ferran Lloret could not understand why little Jordi would put himself in that position. Ironically, the culé in the crowd who idolised Carles Puyol could not draw the same comparison everyone else did. For the remainder of the match, the cheerful man remained silent in thought, picturing his nephew's desperation to prevent an inconsequential goal.
At the back of the crowd, the strong-willed Estel Soler had squeezed her mother's hand to a red shade. She hoped that the stupid boy was okay. She would surely teach him a lesson when she had the time.
Next to Estel, both her parents were equally shaken. Alicia Pope was worried her daughter had befriended a headstrong and reckless boy. Ignacio Soler, a lifelong culé, looked on in admiration at the boy so passionate and competitive. His Estel had found a good boyfriend for herself.
…
In the 50th minute, Coach Marcel Sans took Jordi Lloret off. The captain of Barcelona took off his armband, put it on Eric, and walked to the dugout. In an event unprecedented in La Masia's history, an Infantil A kid walked off to the applause of over a hundred spectators.
The game ended 4 – 0 to FC Barcelona Infantil A, who won their second LaLiga Futures title in a row. To no one's surprise, despite Sergi Gomez's hat-trick, the captain Jordi Lloret won the Man of the Match. Sergi Gomez did not mind because he won the Player of the Tournament award for outscoring everyone by a mile.
Jordi Lloret's Match Statistics–
Touches: 91
Passes: 57/60 (95%)
Duels: 11/11 (100%)
Key Passes: 7
Assists: 1
...
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La Masia
@youngcules
FC Barcelona Infantil A defeats Real Madrid Infantil A 4 – 0 and wins the LaLiga Futures Tournament!
Striker Sergi Gomez scored a hat-trick, making it 24 goals over the season. He also won the Player of the Tournament.
Guys, we must talk about the Infantil A captain, Jordi 'Ombreta' Lloret. There has been a lot of noise around him at La Masia, and we have also mentioned him before. Culés, we will soon upload his highlights from today's match, and you'll understand the hype. I promise you, in our many years of covering La Masia, we have never seen a talent with his ceiling. V excited for the future!
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"Jordi, are you okay?" Aunt Ona scrambled over when she spotted Jordi walk out.
"Yes, Aunty. I was just out of breath for a while. I'm good now." Jordi looked over to Uncle Ferran, who had followed behind Aunt Ona. He seemed less happy than Jordi expected him to be.
"Reietó, that was a great match. I never thought— I mean, I was very surprised by your tackle," Ferran sighed.
"Uncle, I really am fine. It was an important moment, so I sprinted and tackled. I didn't think too much."
Aunt Ona spoke up before Uncle Ferran could complain, "Of course, Jordi. You'll be home next week, right? We will properly celebrate! Uncle Ferran and I have to go back now and help your mother. The bakery needs restocking today."
Uncle Ferran gave a muted goodbye before Aunt Ona pulled him away. Jordi shrugged away his confusion. His uncle could be stubborn this way.
…
Jordi had come to his dorm room to shower again as was his habit. Sergi was nowhere to be seen, probably out celebrating with the others. His friends knew better than to invite him. After every game, Jordi would escape his group for some time alone. Only the next morning would they get to interact with him.
Too lazy to dry or comb his hair, Jordi put on a black tracksuit. Texting a quick update to his mother, he picked up his iPod, earphones, and the Catalan translation of Frankenstein.
…
"If he isn't picking up his phone, leave it, honey. We'll meet him some other time." Alicia followed after Estel, her husband in tow.
"No, don't worry. He doesn't have his phone with him after a game. He'll be here— See, there he is!" Estel pointed ahead.
Near the boundary of the academy, a dense crop of trees stood. Through the foliage, a lonesome boy leaning against a particularly large trunk could be glimpsed. He had earphones on, his messy hair hiding most of his face. On his lap lay a thick book. It made for a peaceful sight. Alicia Pope was struck by the stark contrast with the Jordi they had seen on the pitch today.
"Ombreta!"
Jordi woke up from his reverie and looked towards Estel's voice. The harmony of the scene was broken when Jordi abruptly stood up. The silent confidence that defined him was replaced by an anxious energy. By the time the trio reached Jordi, he had already snuck several glances at Ignacio Soler.
…
Ignacio spoke up before his daughter could, "That is a great game you played, son."
"Thank you, Señ— Mister." Estel's parents looked older than his mother, but much younger than Señor Garcia. Jordi, acutely aware of himself, chose to address Ignacio as Mister.
"That tackle reminded me of El Tiburón (The Shark). I remember I was at the Camp Nou when Puyol made that block. Oh man—" The well-built corporate man grew in his excitement as he reminisced about that match. Unfortunately, his wife placed a hand on his arm and cut him off.
"Jordi, it is lovely to finally meet you!"
Alicia Pope's voice was sweet, and her expression was one of delight. Jordi's shoulders relaxed, and some of that quiet confidence of his seeped back in.
"Likewise, Ma'am."
"Oh, what a well-mannered boy! Just call me Alicia, honey."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Haha, what were you reading?"
"Frankenstein," Jordi presented the book to Alicia, who examined it closely.
"Wow. Can you read in Catalan?"
"Yes, Ma'am."