Chapter 2: The Angel of Linyola
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Previously:-
"It is what it is.", I whispered to myself. Who knows maybe, in an alternate universe he tore past his anxieties and lived up to his potential. He joined Barcelona, with Neymar, Messi, and Ronaldinho completely stomping the competition.
With those thoughts I fell asleep, never knowing that when I opened my eyes again, I would be in a place far away and a time not my own.
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Year – 1997
Andorra Football Summer Camp
Regional Tournament
It had been a long time since Joan Martinez became a scout and the head of the Youth Development for the La Masia in hunt for new talent, and in so far, he believed he had done a pretty great job. He had found Cesc Farbregas, the 10 year old possessed talent enough to be a world star. The boy is already being trained as a defensive midfielder.
Hah, Joan still remembered his playing days, having played for nearly every position. 'Oh! Those were the good old days. And now it's even better.' Barcelona may be going through a rough phase but there is a silver lining, the management isn't under pressure to produce results. They can take a step back and develop new talents free from the expectations of fans.
It felt like Catalonia was adamant on giving birth to greater and greater talent, "Speaking of greater talents, here comes the Angel of Linyola. Bojan Krkic Perez."
He came to the summer camp in Andorra aged seven and Martinez got on the phone to the club and said, "You have to watch this kid". He was clever, fast, and with an incredible sense of how to score goals. He demonstrated qualities that you don't even see in senior players.aboutAnd come they did, the management had arrived to verify the 'frankly ridiculous exaggeration' he had provided.
"Heh, I'm waiting for the kid to shut them up.", Well Bojan certainly shut his mouth up as well. A 7-8-year-old boy running circles around his opponents, 2-3 years his senior.
The boy was truly divine in the way he dribbled past the midfielders and defenders. He had this gift of knowing when and how to score the goal, almost like he was predicting where the goalie and defenders would be.
And that smile, oh that contagious smile that remained on his face as he blitzed through the defensive line himself his fans chant his name "BOJAN! BOJAN! BOJAN!", Martinez whispered to hhimself with a small smile on his aged face.
Talent is just that, talent. It means nothing if it's not realized, and in that department, Bojan doesn't disappoint. While other kids played, Bojan worked. Like clockwork he would practice the art of football, there isn't much else to his life. Just study, play the violin, and practice. He has friends, well not even friends, merely acquaintances.
The moment he got the ball under his feet, he would just sprint
'He has a focus too abnormal for a child his age—', Martinez's musings by the appearance of the Manager of Barcelona Louis Van Gaal, "Vilaseca! Mi Amiga, how have you been?"
The two men hugged and Joan replied, "Estoy Bien, gracias mi Amiga.". Louis had just recently been hired as the manager for Barcelona having taken over from his predecessor Bobby Robson.
"So where's the niño you've been hyping up?", Louis inquired of the case of interest, looking at the field filling up with the regional contest finalist as he leaned on the railing.
"Jersey number 21. That's the player we are here for.", Joan responded, looking at the wunderkind. His hair was a shade closer to black than brown, his bright blue eyes shining with anticipation as they roamed around the field. Until his eyes met Joan's, to him it llooked like the kid just recognized him, 'weird', Joan thought to himself. If his memory wasn't failing him, he had never interacted with him. 'Maybe his father told him about me ', he surmised.
On topic of Bojan's father is also a Barcelona scout like himself. Bojan Krkic Sr. is a retired Serbian footballer who settled down in Catalonia. From what he had heard, it was he who put his son in one of the youth teams he was managing when one player failed to show up.
'Lucky for us that the kid didn't show up.', Martinez thought to himself humorously.
The players took their places as the match was about to begin and the captains of both teams walked forward toward the referee for a coin toss to see who kicks off.
Bojan chose heads, at least that's what Joan was able to make out from out from reading his lips from such a distance. But the toss wasn't in their favor as the opposition would kick off.
The whistle was blown marking the beginning of the match.
The opposition played with a 4-4-2 formation and at the kickoff, the ball was passed down to Midfielder. And Bojan threatened to get closer to the forward behind the center line and let the kickoff player pass through.
'There it is again.', Joan thought. "Are you seeing that?", he inquired of his fellow spectator.
"Yes, I can see he has a good eye for poppositioning and marking.", of course, that was the case. Which seven-year-old focused on stuff like this, certainly not opponents, who were about to make a blunder so early in the game?
The Midfielder (MF) then passed the ball to the Forward player still behind the center line, but at that instant, a sliding tackle came from behind him. Bojan had captured a moment of weakness and stolen possession from his opponents. The Left Winger (LW) was right there to receive the tackled ball.
"Is he usually so aggressive?", Van Gaal asked in surprise.
"No. His aggression usually rises near the second quarter of the game when he has become familiar with the opposition's play."
They watched as the audience, which mostly consisted of regional fans and the families of tThe player, give a pomp cheer as the (LW) bolted straight toward the box going around the defense. However, he was soon overwhelmed by the defenders that strangled his crossing and passing options.
Bojan had already taken his position at the center of the box eager for the chance to convert. The (LW) gave a desperate chip shot but it was too high and flew over Bojan as he tried to score with a header.
The Goalkeeper (GK) punched the ball ahead to the center field and the opposition had possession once again.
Bojan's team had adopted a mid-defense play and was cutting out lateral and vertical support to the opposition (MF) now stuck in the center of the field with most of his teammates reeling from the sudden attack and trying to get back to their positions.
And there it happened again. The (MF) gave a very pass and lost the possession.
The defender makes a long pass toward Bojan, but it's far ahead. Bojan runs after it, the ball still in the air, two defenders on both his sides, and one defender running ass off trying to reach him, the goalkeeper also running forward to make a clearance.
Joan knew this would be another save but then he saw something that dropped his jaw.
Bojan knew a header wouldn't work, the angle was off. He also knew that a touch would mostly like be useless, the goalkeeper would catch him. So he did the unimaginable, he dived forward with his back dropping to the ground, his left foot up in the air to make an angle for his strong leg to reach up and connect with the ball.
"Magnífico…", was all both Joan Martinez Vilaseca and Louis Van Gaal could whisper as they saw a boy who hadn't liked to his first decade do something that men thrice his age could barely do. He did that perfectly, in a match, and scored.
The audience went crazy. The no. 21, dug up from the heap of teammates jumping on him in celebration, and slowly walked towards the spectators. He turned his back to them, his head down as he raised his right arm up, his fist balled up in a fist and "BOJAN! BOJAN! BOJAN!" they screamed into the sky. Truly, the valley of Catalonia had given birth to, quite possibly, its greatest talent.
"Martinez, whatever the result, I want that boy in La Masia.", Joan would have done it even if he didn't say it. This boy will reign as king in this era of football, he would make sure of it.
At '3:16, Bojan scored his first goal.
The rest of the match till half-time had been zealously clutched by the opposition, keeping possession of the ball greedily and letting the clock run out.
And so half-time arrived and the players walked out of field to their benches.
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CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Lethal_Drinker
Lethal_Drinker Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
So yeah, this my try at POV style and football game portrayal. The next chapter will explore MC's POV which will during the half time break. I'll also explore other ways of match portrayals and we'll see how it develops.
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