Ficlets: footballverse Christmas Mini Round.
Title: Alé
Character/Pairing:Alé Gonzalez
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-13
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for zimena.
Peñarol isn't the biggest club in the world. It doesn't have the most history or money, but he's still sure he plays for one of the best clubs in the world. He's seen the talent and skill in the way the team plays. It takes more than money or history to make a good football club. It takes talent, passion, and young and older players who want to wear the crest and play. It takes people who are willing to leave everything on the field.
That's not to say that they don't have rising stars. Most people think he's one of them. They think he should accept the offer of some European club and be happy for the fact any European clubs wants him. Which is insulting. It's not as if he doesn't have the skills to make it a European club. His style of play might not work with all of them, but there are a fair number of choices.
He knows that.
When the time comes to join a European club, he'll take one of the offers that comes his way. But only if the time and offer are right. They have to suit him and Peñarol. He's not a child with stars in his eyes at the thought of playing in Europe.
It's a goal, of course. There are trophies and competitions he can only win by playing there. He'll have the opportunity to face many fierce competitors. There are many men he admires playing in Europe. It's an off footballer who doesn't admire the game of Messi or Ronaldo.
He admires men who have come home to play too. He knows that they have gained valuable experience playing in Europe. They're better players now.
So, he will go to Europe and be smart about it. He'll succeed in Europe, and he'll do it his own way, but his heart will stay in Uruguay with Peñarol.
Peñarol, his beloved club, still has lessons to teach him. He's not foolish enough to think he'll learn everything there is to know about football, but he still doesn't believe he's learned all of what Peñarol has to teach him. And he hasn't won everything he can here. He hasn't beaten all their rivals. And the ones he has beaten, he hasn't beaten enough times. Sometimes, he wonders if there will ever be enough victories.
The Uruguayan league has challenges for him yet, and he won't feel right leaving for Europe until he knows that he can best them. It would be wrong to leave unfinished business at home.
When he leaves, he wants to have accomplished everything. He's always thought that was the best way, to give yourself fully to something and not start something new until it's completed. It keeps everything in order and allows him to focus all of his energies on the task he is facing without worrying about the one that follows.
It comes from the fact he wants to give his all to everything he does. He always has. He's always been like that, since he was a little boy learning to play football. It is the best way and using it he has gotten the best results, using it he has gotten to be one of the best footballers.
For now, his dreams will remain at home, tied to Peñarol. He will dream of their victories and suffer with their defeats. When the time is right, he will dream of Europe and the club that suits him best there and when the offer is right, he will leave. In leaving, he will make sure he profits Peñarol as Peñarol has profited him.
No matter how high he rises, it will not do to forget where he started. As those who have returned from Europe are evidence of. Europe is a place of business. It's a place to play football, to make money, to win trophies. It is not home.
When everything is said and done, Uruguay is home. Peñarol is home, and wherever else he goes, he's content in the knowledge that he can always come home.
Title: Sacrifice
Character/Pairing:Luka Modric/ Roman Pavlyuchenko
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-13
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for just_jenni and serpent_849. When I started writing, this one was for just_jenni.
Real Madrid is a new club and a new culture. Every club has its own culture and way of doing things. Some things don't change. Roma is still playing in Russia and not Spain, but he doesn't have to deal with the memories being tied to everything like there are at White Heart Lane. He's never played with Roma at Real, and he doesn't see the ghost of him across the locker room. The whole team has been very supportive of the troubles that come with adjusting to how things are done in Madrid.
He still doesn't start most of the time, but the level of competition for a starting place at Real Madrid is something he had forgotten. There are men who could start every match for other teams that sit on the bench for Real Madrid. There are World Cup winners who sit on the bench more than they play. He has to trust that when he doesn't play it's because Mourinho has plans suited better to another player.
He tries his best to stay positive. It's hard though as the season progresses. He doesn't feel the same way he did at Tottenham when he and Roma were playing their best. He doesn't feel integral, like the team couldn't do it without him, like he did when he and Roma were on the pitch together and everything just worked.
He doesn't get the same sense of playing beside someone who understood him like Roma did. He and Roma fit together, on the pitch and off it. There was an ease there. Roma would pass to him and just know where he was. He'd do the same with Roma. The effort to connect he feels playing at Madrid wasn't there.
He knows it's not the language barrier that stops him from finding that ease at Real, but that doesn't help. It doesn't help because he's pretty sure that he'll never find that connection with anyone else ever, and Roma's in Russia doing whatever suits him.
He'd like to reach out and find Roman there one day, but that only happens in his dreams. Dreams of a simpler time. It's not as if distance has diminished his feelings after all. It doesn't make trusting everything to work out any easier though. Waiting to call Roma is hard, but he has to think about when Roma has training, games, commitments to the team now.
He never used to have to think about those types of things. He never used to have to not being involved in some part of Roma's life. It's better this way though. They both knew that this was the choice they needed to make. Tottenham wasn't a place they could flourish anymore, and it's almost as if it was choking the joy out of football for Roma.
He would never allow something as important as football to be taken from Roma. That's not what love is. Love is sacrifice. It was why he did his best to convince Roma not to think of him when he was faced with making a choice that would let him go somewhere he'd be appreciated.
It doesn't make the results any easier. It's like losing a close game.
"Luka?"
He smiles. "Sorry, what?"
Iker smiles at him. "Are you ready? The bus..."
Communicating with Iker is difficult, but he's always happy that Iker makes the effort. And right now it's a good thing because he couldn't explain what he was thinking about to anyone but Roma and hope they'd understand.
In the end, he supposes playing at Real Madrid isn't the worst sacrifice he could make.
Fini.
Title: Familiar Stranger
Character/Pairing:Luka Modric/ Roman Pavlyuchenko
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-15
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for just_jenni and serpent_849. When I started writing, this one was for serpent_849.
Being in Spain with Lokomotiv for training is a different experience. He's travelled for training before, of course, but it feels different this time. It feels like more this time. The whole team is excited to train in a new environment, to learn to be better. They all feel the pressure to win. Everyone does. They all want to be the best. The younger ones dream of leaving to go play in the other leagues: England, Spain, Italy, and for those who have played in those leagues, like him, it's an odd sense of coming home and being a stranger.
Training in Spain is a new experience, and he knows that many are excited just for that, but he's excited because it gives him the chance to see Luka again. He hasn't had time to reconnect with his lover for months. Ever since his transfer to Loko, club football, internationals, injuries, and all manner of annoyances have kept them apart.
The time simply hasn't been there.
Luka's still not sure about how much time he'll have, and Roma knows that Loko won't stay in Madrid too long. It's not the best place to train, but it will be enough. They'll make it enough.
Luka meets him at the hotel He looks amazing. If he dared tell Luka that, his lover would probably laugh and tell him they'd been apart too long. Luka doesn't say anything in front of the team, just the normal things. The ones anyone would expect from a former teammate that he was close with.
It's a good thing. They don't like to show the world their emotions. They're private people, and the press do their best to make sure they can't keep any secret. It's different on the pitch though. Emotions on the pitch are about football. Everyone understands that.
Luka's house, when they finally get there, is different than he was expecting. It's bland. As if Luka hasn't done much to change the house from what the decorator did. If he were to look at it without Luka beside him, he wouldn't be able to tell it was Luka's house.
"It's good to see you again, Roma."
"I've been waiting for this. Since they told me we were coming to Spain to train actually."
"It's good to have you here." The I've missed you goes unsaid.
"Luka..." he stops, and reaches out, pulling Luka to him. "I've missed you. And this."
He pushes Luka's hair back from his face and presses his lips to Luka's hard. It's exactly how he remembers it being, but better somehow.
Luka's hands come up to rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss. They break apart only when they need to breathe. Luka lets their heads rest foreheads pressed together while they both try to catch their breath.
"Where's the bedroom in this new house of yours?"
"How much time until you have to go back to your team?"
"Enough."
"Then let me show you."
Fini
Title: Selfish
Character/Pairing: Jose Callejon/Iker Casillas
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-15
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for crazy_girl_86.
It's a little bit odd being one of the youngest players on the team. There are a lot of young guys, but it's different for him. He's from Real Madrid. He's one of the only young canteranos in the first team. The others bounce back and forth between the first team and Castilla and so don't count and Adan spends ninety nine percent of his time waiting to step in for Iker.
It's not that he feels out of place. He knows that he belongs. He proved himself at Espanyol. He's every bit as good as any player on Madrid. He deserves to be there. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have any worries about his place or performance. Sometimes when he reads about how he doesn't deserve to be part of Real Madrid, it makes him furious. Who are the journalist to talk about where he belongs? About what his place is? It's enough to make him want to do something crazy on the pitch. Something to make them all realize just how good he is. To make them acknowledge that he's earned everything he has.
That makes them talk about what a selfish player he is and one million other negative things, but it never seems to get him any closer to his goal of being a respected and accepted member of the first team. At least, it doesn't feel like he is to him.
It's half time of one of those matches that Iker pulls him aside as they enter the dressing room. The others just walk by like they don't see anything. They seem to know what Iker wants, but he has no clue.
"What was that? Out there? What did you think you were doing?"
"Trying to score a goal. That's what we have to do to win the match."
"No. We have to score more goals than the other team, and if Pepe and Sergio hadn't saved you, we wouldn't me. I don't care what sort of quest you're on. It doesn't come above this team."
Iker's hands are somehow on him. He doesn't even know when that happened. They tighten around his arms when the captain says that last bit, his face almost frightening in its intensity.
"Do you understand me, Calleti?"
"Perfectly, Captain."
Iker, his hands bigger in his gloves, reaches up and grabs his chin. Their eyes meet, and whatever he's looking for, he must see. He lets go and Callejon finds himself stepping back into the wall.
"It's stupid, Calleti. You're better than this. You have everything you need to succeed here. You just need patience. Be patient."
"Of course, Iker." It's nothing he hasn't heard before.
"Iker, you done trying to make Calleti into a better player? Have you moved on to kissing him yet?"
The rest of the guys laugh and the tension leeches out of the room in a rush. Sergio always seems to know the best way to break the tension.
The blush staining Iker's cheeks makes him things that he didn't even consider. Maybe there's a chance of something more than just football lessons with Iker.
He reaches forward, feeling brave, and pulls Iker towards him. The kiss is a mess, but Iker's lips are warm under his, and it takes all of a second for Iker to take control.
"We'll talk about this after the match."
Then Iker is gone and Mourinho is there with his instructions.
Fini
Title: Home
Character/Pairing:Carlos Puyol
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-13
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for elizaberglund.
The decision to resign with FC Barcelona, even if he was only being offered a reduced salary, was never a difficult one. It's not the money he loves. It's the football and the club. Més que un club.
FC Barcelona has been the only club he's wanted to play for since he can remember wanting to play football. He's dreamed of playing in the national team jersey and the Catalan jersey, but when he was a child, he always dreamed of playing football with FC Barcelona. Of winning with FC Barcelona.
When those dreams came true, he started to chase new dreams. He dreamed of winning the Eurocopa, winning the World Cup, in a new way. A way where they weren't just impossible dreams. A way where nothing was impossible.
And soon, it seemed like all those dreams came true. Nothing was impossible. There was nothing they hadn't won. There was nothing new left to dream of winning. But it was never about the trophies. The dream at the heart of all of it remained the same. It's the dream of playing football with a club he loves.
It's the smell of the grass on the pitch, the exhilaration of stripping the attacking player of the ball, or the rush of a good, strong tackle. There's something utterly amazing about playing football that doesn't change. It doesn't matter how many times he walks out onto the pitch or how many trophies he wins. The heart of the game remains the same.
Football is still as amazing as the first time he played with his friends.
Football is the love of his life, and has always brought the best out in him. He's been his happiest and most distraught on the pitch. Every game is a rollercoaster. It fills the quiet places in his soul and makes them sing. He's never as happy off the pitch as he is on it, even if it's only for a practice or an informal game with his friends. That might be the best of all. Just playing around on the training pitch with his friends, with his team. The team's changed a lot over the years he's played for it, but the heart, the love of club and football, is still there in each player.
It's guided him through all the victories and the setbacks. Every injury he's recovered from has been for this club and this game. FC Barcelona has been his Polaris, guiding his life.
This is what he does.
He goes out with his team, and he plays the game he loves. Each morning when he wakes up, he's grateful to have another day to play football, and each night when he goes to sleep, he's grateful to have had the day.
His whole world could be distilled into those perfect moments on the pitch where everything is crystal clear, he understands all of it, and it's beautiful in a way nothing can match. The clear lines of life on the pitch are beautiful in their own simple way.
He knows who his enemies are, what his job is, and who he can trust. At the end of each match, he still has his teammates, his friends, his club, and football. He has only a few good years left to win more trophies, or so they tell him, but he'll always have football. He'll always have the club.
Because of that all is good in his world.
Més que un club indeed.
S
Character/Pairing:Alé Gonzalez
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-13
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for zimena.
Peñarol isn't the biggest club in the world. It doesn't have the most history or money, but he's still sure he plays for one of the best clubs in the world. He's seen the talent and skill in the way the team plays. It takes more than money or history to make a good football club. It takes talent, passion, and young and older players who want to wear the crest and play. It takes people who are willing to leave everything on the field.
That's not to say that they don't have rising stars. Most people think he's one of them. They think he should accept the offer of some European club and be happy for the fact any European clubs wants him. Which is insulting. It's not as if he doesn't have the skills to make it a European club. His style of play might not work with all of them, but there are a fair number of choices.
He knows that.
When the time comes to join a European club, he'll take one of the offers that comes his way. But only if the time and offer are right. They have to suit him and Peñarol. He's not a child with stars in his eyes at the thought of playing in Europe.
It's a goal, of course. There are trophies and competitions he can only win by playing there. He'll have the opportunity to face many fierce competitors. There are many men he admires playing in Europe. It's an off footballer who doesn't admire the game of Messi or Ronaldo.
He admires men who have come home to play too. He knows that they have gained valuable experience playing in Europe. They're better players now.
So, he will go to Europe and be smart about it. He'll succeed in Europe, and he'll do it his own way, but his heart will stay in Uruguay with Peñarol.
Peñarol, his beloved club, still has lessons to teach him. He's not foolish enough to think he'll learn everything there is to know about football, but he still doesn't believe he's learned all of what Peñarol has to teach him. And he hasn't won everything he can here. He hasn't beaten all their rivals. And the ones he has beaten, he hasn't beaten enough times. Sometimes, he wonders if there will ever be enough victories.
The Uruguayan league has challenges for him yet, and he won't feel right leaving for Europe until he knows that he can best them. It would be wrong to leave unfinished business at home.
When he leaves, he wants to have accomplished everything. He's always thought that was the best way, to give yourself fully to something and not start something new until it's completed. It keeps everything in order and allows him to focus all of his energies on the task he is facing without worrying about the one that follows.
It comes from the fact he wants to give his all to everything he does. He always has. He's always been like that, since he was a little boy learning to play football. It is the best way and using it he has gotten the best results, using it he has gotten to be one of the best footballers.
For now, his dreams will remain at home, tied to Peñarol. He will dream of their victories and suffer with their defeats. When the time is right, he will dream of Europe and the club that suits him best there and when the offer is right, he will leave. In leaving, he will make sure he profits Peñarol as Peñarol has profited him.
No matter how high he rises, it will not do to forget where he started. As those who have returned from Europe are evidence of. Europe is a place of business. It's a place to play football, to make money, to win trophies. It is not home.
When everything is said and done, Uruguay is home. Peñarol is home, and wherever else he goes, he's content in the knowledge that he can always come home.
Title: Sacrifice
Character/Pairing:Luka Modric/ Roman Pavlyuchenko
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-13
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for just_jenni and serpent_849. When I started writing, this one was for just_jenni.
Real Madrid is a new club and a new culture. Every club has its own culture and way of doing things. Some things don't change. Roma is still playing in Russia and not Spain, but he doesn't have to deal with the memories being tied to everything like there are at White Heart Lane. He's never played with Roma at Real, and he doesn't see the ghost of him across the locker room. The whole team has been very supportive of the troubles that come with adjusting to how things are done in Madrid.
He still doesn't start most of the time, but the level of competition for a starting place at Real Madrid is something he had forgotten. There are men who could start every match for other teams that sit on the bench for Real Madrid. There are World Cup winners who sit on the bench more than they play. He has to trust that when he doesn't play it's because Mourinho has plans suited better to another player.
He tries his best to stay positive. It's hard though as the season progresses. He doesn't feel the same way he did at Tottenham when he and Roma were playing their best. He doesn't feel integral, like the team couldn't do it without him, like he did when he and Roma were on the pitch together and everything just worked.
He doesn't get the same sense of playing beside someone who understood him like Roma did. He and Roma fit together, on the pitch and off it. There was an ease there. Roma would pass to him and just know where he was. He'd do the same with Roma. The effort to connect he feels playing at Madrid wasn't there.
He knows it's not the language barrier that stops him from finding that ease at Real, but that doesn't help. It doesn't help because he's pretty sure that he'll never find that connection with anyone else ever, and Roma's in Russia doing whatever suits him.
He'd like to reach out and find Roman there one day, but that only happens in his dreams. Dreams of a simpler time. It's not as if distance has diminished his feelings after all. It doesn't make trusting everything to work out any easier though. Waiting to call Roma is hard, but he has to think about when Roma has training, games, commitments to the team now.
He never used to have to think about those types of things. He never used to have to not being involved in some part of Roma's life. It's better this way though. They both knew that this was the choice they needed to make. Tottenham wasn't a place they could flourish anymore, and it's almost as if it was choking the joy out of football for Roma.
He would never allow something as important as football to be taken from Roma. That's not what love is. Love is sacrifice. It was why he did his best to convince Roma not to think of him when he was faced with making a choice that would let him go somewhere he'd be appreciated.
It doesn't make the results any easier. It's like losing a close game.
"Luka?"
He smiles. "Sorry, what?"
Iker smiles at him. "Are you ready? The bus..."
Communicating with Iker is difficult, but he's always happy that Iker makes the effort. And right now it's a good thing because he couldn't explain what he was thinking about to anyone but Roma and hope they'd understand.
In the end, he supposes playing at Real Madrid isn't the worst sacrifice he could make.
Fini.
Title: Familiar Stranger
Character/Pairing:Luka Modric/ Roman Pavlyuchenko
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-15
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for just_jenni and serpent_849. When I started writing, this one was for serpent_849.
Being in Spain with Lokomotiv for training is a different experience. He's travelled for training before, of course, but it feels different this time. It feels like more this time. The whole team is excited to train in a new environment, to learn to be better. They all feel the pressure to win. Everyone does. They all want to be the best. The younger ones dream of leaving to go play in the other leagues: England, Spain, Italy, and for those who have played in those leagues, like him, it's an odd sense of coming home and being a stranger.
Training in Spain is a new experience, and he knows that many are excited just for that, but he's excited because it gives him the chance to see Luka again. He hasn't had time to reconnect with his lover for months. Ever since his transfer to Loko, club football, internationals, injuries, and all manner of annoyances have kept them apart.
The time simply hasn't been there.
Luka's still not sure about how much time he'll have, and Roma knows that Loko won't stay in Madrid too long. It's not the best place to train, but it will be enough. They'll make it enough.
Luka meets him at the hotel He looks amazing. If he dared tell Luka that, his lover would probably laugh and tell him they'd been apart too long. Luka doesn't say anything in front of the team, just the normal things. The ones anyone would expect from a former teammate that he was close with.
It's a good thing. They don't like to show the world their emotions. They're private people, and the press do their best to make sure they can't keep any secret. It's different on the pitch though. Emotions on the pitch are about football. Everyone understands that.
Luka's house, when they finally get there, is different than he was expecting. It's bland. As if Luka hasn't done much to change the house from what the decorator did. If he were to look at it without Luka beside him, he wouldn't be able to tell it was Luka's house.
"It's good to see you again, Roma."
"I've been waiting for this. Since they told me we were coming to Spain to train actually."
"It's good to have you here." The I've missed you goes unsaid.
"Luka..." he stops, and reaches out, pulling Luka to him. "I've missed you. And this."
He pushes Luka's hair back from his face and presses his lips to Luka's hard. It's exactly how he remembers it being, but better somehow.
Luka's hands come up to rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss. They break apart only when they need to breathe. Luka lets their heads rest foreheads pressed together while they both try to catch their breath.
"Where's the bedroom in this new house of yours?"
"How much time until you have to go back to your team?"
"Enough."
"Then let me show you."
Fini
Title: Selfish
Character/Pairing: Jose Callejon/Iker Casillas
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-15
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for crazy_girl_86.
It's a little bit odd being one of the youngest players on the team. There are a lot of young guys, but it's different for him. He's from Real Madrid. He's one of the only young canteranos in the first team. The others bounce back and forth between the first team and Castilla and so don't count and Adan spends ninety nine percent of his time waiting to step in for Iker.
It's not that he feels out of place. He knows that he belongs. He proved himself at Espanyol. He's every bit as good as any player on Madrid. He deserves to be there. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have any worries about his place or performance. Sometimes when he reads about how he doesn't deserve to be part of Real Madrid, it makes him furious. Who are the journalist to talk about where he belongs? About what his place is? It's enough to make him want to do something crazy on the pitch. Something to make them all realize just how good he is. To make them acknowledge that he's earned everything he has.
That makes them talk about what a selfish player he is and one million other negative things, but it never seems to get him any closer to his goal of being a respected and accepted member of the first team. At least, it doesn't feel like he is to him.
It's half time of one of those matches that Iker pulls him aside as they enter the dressing room. The others just walk by like they don't see anything. They seem to know what Iker wants, but he has no clue.
"What was that? Out there? What did you think you were doing?"
"Trying to score a goal. That's what we have to do to win the match."
"No. We have to score more goals than the other team, and if Pepe and Sergio hadn't saved you, we wouldn't me. I don't care what sort of quest you're on. It doesn't come above this team."
Iker's hands are somehow on him. He doesn't even know when that happened. They tighten around his arms when the captain says that last bit, his face almost frightening in its intensity.
"Do you understand me, Calleti?"
"Perfectly, Captain."
Iker, his hands bigger in his gloves, reaches up and grabs his chin. Their eyes meet, and whatever he's looking for, he must see. He lets go and Callejon finds himself stepping back into the wall.
"It's stupid, Calleti. You're better than this. You have everything you need to succeed here. You just need patience. Be patient."
"Of course, Iker." It's nothing he hasn't heard before.
"Iker, you done trying to make Calleti into a better player? Have you moved on to kissing him yet?"
The rest of the guys laugh and the tension leeches out of the room in a rush. Sergio always seems to know the best way to break the tension.
The blush staining Iker's cheeks makes him things that he didn't even consider. Maybe there's a chance of something more than just football lessons with Iker.
He reaches forward, feeling brave, and pulls Iker towards him. The kiss is a mess, but Iker's lips are warm under his, and it takes all of a second for Iker to take control.
"We'll talk about this after the match."
Then Iker is gone and Mourinho is there with his instructions.
Fini
Title: Home
Character/Pairing:Carlos Puyol
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Rating: PG-13
A.N: For the footballverse mini-round. This fic is for elizaberglund.
The decision to resign with FC Barcelona, even if he was only being offered a reduced salary, was never a difficult one. It's not the money he loves. It's the football and the club. Més que un club.
FC Barcelona has been the only club he's wanted to play for since he can remember wanting to play football. He's dreamed of playing in the national team jersey and the Catalan jersey, but when he was a child, he always dreamed of playing football with FC Barcelona. Of winning with FC Barcelona.
When those dreams came true, he started to chase new dreams. He dreamed of winning the Eurocopa, winning the World Cup, in a new way. A way where they weren't just impossible dreams. A way where nothing was impossible.
And soon, it seemed like all those dreams came true. Nothing was impossible. There was nothing they hadn't won. There was nothing new left to dream of winning. But it was never about the trophies. The dream at the heart of all of it remained the same. It's the dream of playing football with a club he loves.
It's the smell of the grass on the pitch, the exhilaration of stripping the attacking player of the ball, or the rush of a good, strong tackle. There's something utterly amazing about playing football that doesn't change. It doesn't matter how many times he walks out onto the pitch or how many trophies he wins. The heart of the game remains the same.
Football is still as amazing as the first time he played with his friends.
Football is the love of his life, and has always brought the best out in him. He's been his happiest and most distraught on the pitch. Every game is a rollercoaster. It fills the quiet places in his soul and makes them sing. He's never as happy off the pitch as he is on it, even if it's only for a practice or an informal game with his friends. That might be the best of all. Just playing around on the training pitch with his friends, with his team. The team's changed a lot over the years he's played for it, but the heart, the love of club and football, is still there in each player.
It's guided him through all the victories and the setbacks. Every injury he's recovered from has been for this club and this game. FC Barcelona has been his Polaris, guiding his life.
This is what he does.
He goes out with his team, and he plays the game he loves. Each morning when he wakes up, he's grateful to have another day to play football, and each night when he goes to sleep, he's grateful to have had the day.
His whole world could be distilled into those perfect moments on the pitch where everything is crystal clear, he understands all of it, and it's beautiful in a way nothing can match. The clear lines of life on the pitch are beautiful in their own simple way.
He knows who his enemies are, what his job is, and who he can trust. At the end of each match, he still has his teammates, his friends, his club, and football. He has only a few good years left to win more trophies, or so they tell him, but he'll always have football. He'll always have the club.
Because of that all is good in his world.
Més que un club indeed.
S