#la masia you are the greatest

[0-twentyone]

Red Ruby 🤤

[helen-with-an-a]

You always have an excuse

Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy

Barca Femeni x reader

Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.

Part 1 : Part 2

Word Count: 3.8k

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.

You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.

“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.

The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.

“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.

“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.

“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta

“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.

And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.

It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.

“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.

“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.

“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.

“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.

Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.

The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.

“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.

“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.

“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.

Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.

She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.

You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.

The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.

“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.

“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.

“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.

“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.

“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?

“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.

“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.

“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.

The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.

Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.

“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.

You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.

But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.

You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.

“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.

“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.

“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.

“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.

“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.

“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.

“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.

“Oh, noth-”

“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.

“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.

“No. They aren’t.”

“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.

“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.

“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.

“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.

“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.

“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.

“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.

“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.

“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”

“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.

You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”

“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.

“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.

“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.

“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”

“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.

“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.

“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.

“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”

“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.

“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”

“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.

Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.

I hope you liked it <3

[hellodropbear]

like she used to

alexia putellas x sister

i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.

~~~~~~

I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play. 

But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.

Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were. 

I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much. 

The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could. 

Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear. 

Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured. 

Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework. 

As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy. 

That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years. 

I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter in the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did. 

Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.

Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality. 

"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing." 

She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation. 

It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why. 

It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business. 

I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened. 

"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?" 

It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister. 

I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days. 

Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back. 

"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her." 

She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great. 

I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina. 

I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle. 

I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home. 

Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine. 

I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong. 

Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work. 

"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes." 

Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.

Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay. 

I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason. 

The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt. 

I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair. 

I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me. 

The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi. 

She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable. 

I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true. 

I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me. 

It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy. 

It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was. 

"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."

The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out. 

The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head. 

That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much. 

I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead. 

Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to. 

She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me. 

~~~~~~

"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!" 

The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me. 

I can only smile as she continues. 

"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!" 

"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.

"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites. 

"I am proud of you, pequena putellas." 

Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me. 

I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really. 

"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer. 

"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns. 

"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina." 

Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan. 

"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know. 

"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."

All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected. 

"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."

I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really. 

I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level. 

But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is. 

Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here. 

I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training. 

I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym. 

It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself. 

I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose. 

I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker. 

She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman. 

But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15. 

I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname. 

He told me that he chose me because of my first name. 

"Elena Putellas,"  he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."

It was a big boost to my confidence. 

Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym. 

"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"

"Yes, I am 15." 

I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her. 

She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done. 

Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home. 

"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion. 

"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters. 

"I have been to a few of your games, you know?" 

I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods. 

"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."

She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot. 

"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."

She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug. 

"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"

I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me. 

"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."

The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team. 

We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens. 

It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming. 

"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.

I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years. 

"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words. 

"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it. 

"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her. 

"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings." 

She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing. 

"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am." 

She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway. 

"When did you get so good?"

chapter II

[bellcza]

la masia YOU are the greatest academy in the world

[archivingbarca]

i can’t remember the last time we had a big name signing that ended up well. like you said, our la masia talents have always been our greatest strength. i wouldnt trade lamine gavi cubarsi etc. for the world

EXACTLY these are the people that are mad we’re trying to sign nico williams “to respond to mbappe” (which is not the reason at all. we just need a decent lw) and instead want us to splurge €100M on leao or kvaratskhelia. even if we somehow had the money this summer, can’t they see how disastrous that would end up?

[writingreadingdaydreaming]

you were saying pickford was an omega in your universe, do you have any headcanons about him becoming engalnd’s number 1 or even him cementing his place at everton?

Well 👀

Pickers was technically at Sunderland for almost seven years, but only ever played 31 games for them, and was sent on loan six times, mostly to lower leagues. It’s clear that Sunderland didn’t think much of him, or saw enough merit in him to graduate him from the academy but not enough to actually want him. He was only Sunderland’s second omega player in their history (the first being Jordan Henderson), so there was very much still a glass ceiling to break there.

And I think him signing for Everton despite this actually makes sense - the manager at the time was Ronald Koeman, certified Barcelona legend. Because of his ties to Barca, I feel like maybe he would be more inclined to ‘see past’ the fact that Pickford is an omega, having both worked with Jose Mourinho as an assistant at Barcelona, and having watched the greatest player of all time stem from La Masia despite being an omega. Sunderland finished dead last in the 16/17 campaign, but through no fault of Jordan, who had the second highest save rate on the whole of the Premier League, with 135 (he was only beaten by Heaton who had 141). It was obvious he had skill and talent.

Also, Jordan did not go into an Everton team who were doing badly. Everton had actually qualified for the Europa League in the 17/18 season, when Pickers was signed. He had something to prove. They did get knocked out in the group stage, but they also finished 8th in the league, only one place lower than the year before. Jordan was still in the top five for saves made at 121 that season. There was a lot of stigma around omega goalkeepers, with it being one of the more physical positions, and people asking if an omega would be able to handle the pressure of it, but Jordan was making it look easy, so obviously he got picked for the England squad, especially that England squad that famously got further than any England team had in decades.

As bad as it sounds, Jordan is really quite lucky that he has Southgate as a manager, because a lot of managers wouldn’t be so easy on him for getting pregnant, especially not an international manager. But as we all know, Gareth is very trusting of the people he’s used to, so therefore told Jordan that as long as he could keep his fitness up and could get back to form after giving birth, his first-choice position at England wouldn’t be comprised. And that is true to some extent - Jordan returned to be England’s number one for the 2022 World Cup, but in the time that he was gone, someone had to set in, so Aaron Ramsdale started to become a lot more familiar with an England jersey. Ramsdale, being an alpha, was obviously instantly respected more than Pickford despite not doing half as much, so the debate of whether Pickford still had the right to be number one after giving birth to his son became a huge topic for every international break. Some were purposely trying to drive a rift between Pickers and Ramsdale, so Pickford would be replaced, despite only being in his late 20s (which, for a goalie, is incredibly young). Obviously, Southgate being Southgate, he tries his best to get his players to ignore the media, and it does work a little bit, but it’s clear in every England camp that Pickford and Ramsdale aren’t exactly the best of friends 😬

[heightchart]

Messi Height: How Tall is the Soccer Legend Messi

Lionel Messi is undoubtedly at the top of the list of soccer legends. Throughout his career, the Argentine maestro has broken multiple records and received honours that rank him among the greatest players ever.

He has experienced incredible success. However, have you ever thought about Messi's physical characteristics, especially his height?

However, if you want to compare your height with Messi's height, use the height calculator tool.

We explore Messi's height in detail in this comprehensive guide, giving you a thorough understanding of the soccer player's stature.

Overview of Lionel Messi: The Soccer Phenomenon

Let's take a moment to recognize Messi's amazing career and his impact on the world of soccer before getting into the details of his height.

Lionel Messi, born in Rosario, Argentina, on June 24, 1987, started playing football at a young age. He moved to Barcelona at 13 to enrol in the esteemed La Masia academy because of his extraordinary promise.

Messi's career with FC Barcelona developed into something truly remarkable over time. He was a team member for over 20 years, winning multiple La Liga and UEFA Champions League titles.

Messi cemented his place among the greatest players in sports history during his tenure with Barcelona, where he also won the Ballon d'Or multiple times.

Messi's incredible journey with Barcelona ended in August 2021 due to the club's financial struggles.

After that, he moved to Paris Saint-Germain (PSG), where he never stopped stunning the football community with his abilities and displays.

He continues to be a cherished figure in the sport because of his immense influence on and off the field.

What is Messi's Playing Style and Messi Height?

The way Messi has taken advantage of his height is among the most impressive things about his career.

His low center of gravity allows him to dribble with excellent balance, change direction quickly, and get through confined spaces.

Because of these qualities, he is extremely elusive on the field, making it difficult for defenders to get rid of him.

His height has also influenced Messi's remarkable ball control. He is unmatched in keeping the ball close to his feet, even when sprinting.

Thanks to this ability, he can move through defenses with ease, which opens up scoring opportunities for him and his teammates. Messi's height hasn't stopped him from dribbling and controlling the ball or scoring goals. 

How Tall is Messi's Height?

Let's tackle the most pressing question: What is Lionel Messi's height? Messi is not tall, even though he may seem so to millions of fans.

Officially, Messi stands 5 feet 7 inches tall or 170 cm tall. He falls into the group of shorter professional football players due to his height.

Messi has repeatedly demonstrated that height is not a barrier to greatness on the soccer field despite his relatively small stature compared to some of his peers.

His exceptional dribbling abilities, agility, balance, and low center of gravity have made him a nightmare for defenses worldwide.

Messi's Height in Perspective

For some perspective, let's compare Messi's height to a few other prominent soccer players.

Cristiano Ronaldo: The Portuguese sensation is noticeably taller than Messi at a height of 6 feet 2 inches (188 cm).

Neymar: Merely taller than Messi at 5 feet 9 inches (175 cm), Neymar is a Brazilian superstar and former Barcelona teammate of Messi's.

Diego Maradona: Because of their similar playing styles, Maradona and Messi are frequently compared. Maradona stood 5 feet 7 inches (170 cm) tall. Maradona's height did not prevent him from becoming one of the greatest soccer players ever.

Andres Iniesta: Measuring 5 feet 7 inches (170 cm) in height, Iniesta is another legendary Barcelona player. They combined to form a formidable midfield tandem throughout their tenure at the club.

Conclusion

Although Lionel Messi is not particularly tall, his height has never stopped him from achieving extraordinary success in soccer. He has overcome all physical limitations thanks to his incredible skills, work ethic, and determination, and he still holds a dominant position in the sport.

Messi's stature is a reminder that physical attributes are not the only factors defining greatness in soccer. It comes down to skill, commitment, and maximizing what you already have.

Regardless of his stature, we, as fans, can appreciate Messi's amazing skills and the innumerable magical moments he has produced on the field.

Therefore, remember that greatness comes in all forms and sizes the next time you watch Lionel Messi dribble past defenders, score an incredible goal, or create a beautiful assist.

Messi is one of the true soccer giants despite his diminutive 5 feet 7 inches of height. He has had a profound impact on the game.

[wospacstagess]

Realize The Magic of Being Part of a Worthy Boarding Soccer School Spain!!!

For young soccer enthusiasts, there's a dream that often shines brighter than the stadium floodlights – the dream of joining a worthy boarding soccer school in Spain. This dream isn't just about playing the beautiful game; it's about immersing oneself in a world where passion, dedication, and talent come together to create magic. Being part of such a school offers a unique and transformative experience that goes beyond the soccer field.

First and foremost, the magic begins with the level of soccer education this boarding school soccer offer. Spain is renowned for its soccer pedigree, having produced some of the world's greatest players and teams. Boarding soccer schools in Spain, like La Masia for FC Barcelona, provide access to top-notch coaching and facilities. The technical expertise, tactical insights, and skill development offered are second to none. Being part of this environment means learning from the best, absorbing the essence of tiki-taka football, and honing one's skills to reach the highest level.

Moreover, the cultural immersion is enchanting. Spain is a country where soccer is not just a sport; it's a way of life. The passion that flows through the streets and stadiums during match days is infectious. It's about attending La Liga matches, witnessing El Clásico rivalry, and participating in local tournaments where love for the game is palpable. The magic lies in becoming a part of this rich tapestry of soccer tradition.

A worthy boarding school football in Spain isn't just about soccer; it's about holistic development. These institutions understand the importance of a balanced life. Thus, they offer a strong emphasis on academics. Students receive quality education alongside their soccer training, ensuring they have a solid educational foundation for life beyond the pitch. This combination of athletic and academic excellence prepares students for success both in and out of the game.

Another aspect that adds to the magic is the camaraderie among students. In these boarding schools, you're surrounded by like-minded individuals who share your passion for soccer. Lifelong friendships are forged on the training ground, in the dormitories, and during off-field activities. The sense of belonging and support from fellow students and coaches creates an environment where you can push your limits and achieve your goals.

Furthermore, the boarding experience itself is transformative. The routines, the discipline, and the dedication instilled in students are instrumental in their growth as players and individuals. It's about waking up every day with a purpose, sharing meals with teammates, and understanding that success requires dedication and sacrifice.

Ultimately, the magic of being part of a worthy boarding soccer in Spain lies in the journey it offers. It's about chasing your dreams while immersed in a culture that lives and breathes soccer. It's about developing not just as a player, but as a person with values of discipline, teamwork, and resilience. I would personally advise you to check out the facilities available at WOSPAC.

[successmatters]

Lionel Messi’s Biography, Daily Routine, Lifestyle, Hobbies, Net Worth, Career, Personal Life, and More

Lionel Messi, often regarded as one of the greatest footballers of all time, has captured the hearts of millions with his extraordinary skills, incredible talent, and remarkable journey from a young boy in Rosario, Argentina, to a global football icon. In this article, we delve into the captivating life story of Lionel Messi, exploring his early years, his rise to fame, and his lasting legacy in the world of football.

Why Should You Read This Biography Of Lionel Messi?

Reading Lionel Messi’s biography can offer a fascinating insight into the life of one of the greatest football players in history. Through his journey from a young talent in Argentina to becoming a global icon at FC Barcelona and beyond, you’ll gain a deeper understanding of his dedication, resilience, and unmatched skill on the field. His story not only provides a window into the world of professional football but also serves as an inspiring tale of perseverance, teamwork, and the pursuit of excellence, making it a compelling read for sports enthusiasts, aspiring athletes, and those interested in the transformative power of passion and hard work.

Who Is Lionel Messi?

Lionel Messi is an Argentine professional footballer widely regarded as one of the greatest players in the history of the sport. Born in 1987, Messi spent the majority of his career at FC Barcelona, where he achieved numerous accolades, including multiple FIFA Ballon d’Or awards. Known for his exceptional dribbling, vision, and goal-scoring prowess, Messi’s influence transcends the field, making him a global sports icon and a symbol of dedication and skill in the world of soccer.

Where And When Was Lionel Messi Born?

Lionel Messi was born on June 24, 1987, in Rosario, a city in the province of Santa Fe, Argentina.

How Was The Early Life Of Lionel messi?

Lionel Messi’s early life was marked by his passion for football from a young age. Growing up in Rosario, Argentina, he displayed extraordinary talent and dedication on the field, joining his local club Newell’s Old Boys at the age of seven. However, his promising career was briefly threatened by a growth hormone deficiency, which led to his relocation to Barcelona, Spain, where he joined FC Barcelona’s youth academy, La Masia. Overcoming challenges, Messi’s prodigious skills flourished, propelling him into the first team and laying the foundation for his remarkable journey to becoming one of football’s greatest legends.

Who Are Lionel Messi’s Parents?

Lionel Messi’s parents are Jorge Messi and Celia Cuccittini. Jorge Messi worked as a factory steel worker and also coached a local youth football team, nurturing Lionel’s early interest in the sport. Celia Cuccittini, Messi’s mother, played a supportive role in his upbringing, and his close-knit family has remained a significant source of inspiration and strength throughout his career.

Where Has Lionel Messi Completed His Education ?

Lionel Messi’s education has primarily been focused on his football career. He joined FC Barcelona’s youth academy, La Masia, at a young age, where he received training, mentorship, and education while developing his football skills. The academy’s integrated approach aimed to provide both academic and football education to young players, nurturing their athletic and personal growth. However, his educational background outside of football has not been extensively documented due to his early dedication to the sport.

When Did Lionel Messi’s Football Career Start?

Lionel Messi’s formal football career began when he joined the youth team of Newell’s Old Boys, a local club in his hometown of Rosario, Argentina, at the age of seven. He showcased his exceptional skills and talents at a young age, capturing the attention of scouts and football enthusiasts. Messi’s career trajectory took a significant turn when he moved to Barcelona, Spain, at the age of 13 to join FC Barcelona’s renowned youth academy, La Masia, which marked the beginning of his journey to becoming a football legend.

When Did Lionel Messi Become Famous?

His performances in various competitions, his goal-scoring records, and his ability to win individual awards like the FIFA Ballon d’Or solidified his status as one of the world’s greatest football players. By the late 2000s and throughout the 2010s, Messi’s fame continued to soar, making him an international sports icon recognized and celebrated by people of all ages around the world.

Lionel messi’s Family And Children

Lionel Messi is married to Antonela Roccuzzo. The couple has known each other since they were children, as Roccuzzo is Messi’s childhood friend. They got married in a ceremony in Rosario, Argentina, in 2017. Together, they have three children: Thiago, Mateo, and Ciro.

Lionel messi’s Net Worth And Salary

Lionel Messi’s net worth and salary were substantial due to his successful football career and various endorsements. His net worth was estimated to be around $600 million, and he was one of the highest-paid athletes in the world. Messi’s salary at FC Barcelona, prior to his departure from the club in August 2021, was reported to be among the highest in football, with various sources estimating it at around €70–100 million annually.

Lionel messi’s lifestyle

Lionel Messi’s lifestyle is characterized by a mix of his football-focused dedication, his family-oriented values, and his personal interests. He has been known for maintaining a relatively low-key and private lifestyle despite his global fame. Messi’s lifestyle includes spending quality time with his wife, Antonela Roccuzzo, and their children. He is also known for his philanthropic efforts, having been involved in various charitable initiatives and donations to support causes such as healthcare and education.

In terms of interests outside of football, Messi is a fan of video games and has collaborated with game developers on projects related to his image and brand. He is also a fan of music and has expressed admiration for artists like Celia Cruz and reggaeton music. While he maintains a level of privacy, his social media presence offers glimpses into his life, featuring moments with his family, training routines, and occasional insights into his personal interests.

Lionel messi’s Daily Routine

Lionel Messi’s daily routine is geared towards maintaining his fitness, training, spending time with his family, and fulfilling various professional commitments. While specific details may vary, here’s a general overview of what his daily routine might have looked like:

Morning: Messi likely started his day with a nutritious breakfast, considering the importance of fueling his body for intense training sessions. His mornings likely involved some form of training, which might include individual skill work, fitness exercises, and tactical drills.

Afternoon: After training, Messi might have focused on recovery, which could involve stretching, physical therapy, and perhaps ice baths or other treatments to help his body recover from the physical demands of training and matches. He might also have had lunch with his family and spent quality time with them.

Evening: Messi’s evenings might have included spending time with his wife and children, engaging in leisure activities like playing video games or watching TV, and having dinner with his family.

Professional Commitments: Beyond training, Messi’s routine would also involve various professional commitments, including media appearances, sponsor obligations, and meetings related to his football career and endorsements.

Lionel Messi’s Hobbies

Lionel Messi has several hobbies and interests outside of football that he has shared over the years. Some of his known hobbies include:

1. Video Games: Messi has expressed his fondness for playing video games, particularly during his downtime. He has been a fan of games like FIFA and Pro Evolution Soccer, which are related to his field of expertise.

2. Spending Time with Family: Family is incredibly important to Messi. He enjoys spending quality time with his wife, Antonela, and their three children. Many of his social media posts feature moments with his family.

3. Music: Messi has mentioned his appreciation for music, especially reggaeton and Latin music. He has been known to share his favorite songs and artists on social media.

4. Travel: Given his international football career, Messi has had the opportunity to travel to various countries and experience different cultures. While not necessarily a hobby, his travels have likely contributed to his personal growth and cultural enrichment.

5. Charity Work: Messi is actively involved in philanthropic efforts. While not a traditional hobby, his dedication to charitable causes reflects his commitment to giving back to society.

6. Collecting Memorabilia: Messi has a collection of football memorabilia from other legendary players and teams. He has traded shirts with fellow professionals, contributing to his collection of jerseys.

Lionel Messi’s Famous Quotes

Here are some famous quotes by Lionel Messi:

“I always thought that I wanted to be the best, but I never really imagined myself being this good.”

“You have to fight to reach your dream. You have to sacrifice and work hard for it.”

“I start early, and I stay late, day after day, year after year. It took me 17 years and 114 days to become an overnight success.”

“Money is not a motivating factor. Money doesn’t thrill me or make me play better because there are benefits to being wealthy. I’m just happy with a ball at my feet. My motivation comes from playing the game I love.”

“The day you think there are no improvements to be made is a sad one for any player.”

“It took me 17 years and 114 days to become an overnight success.”

“There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing a happy and smiling child. I always help in any way I can, even if it’s just by signing an autograph. A child’s smile is worth more than all the money in the world.”

“Whether it’s a friendly match, or for points, or a final, or any game — I play the same. I’m always trying to be my best, first for my team, for myself, for the fans, and to try and win.”

“I prefer to win titles with the team ahead of individual awards or scoring more goals than anyone else. I’m more worried about being a good person than being the best football player in the world.”

“In football as in watchmaking, talent and elegance mean nothing without rigor and precision.”

Why Is Lionel Messi Inspirational For Us?

Lionel Messi is inspirational due to his unwavering dedication, exceptional talent, and humility. His journey from overcoming childhood challenges to becoming a global football icon showcases the power of perseverance and hard work. His family values, philanthropic efforts, and commitment to teamwork underline the importance of kindness, giving back, and collaboration.

Messi’s ability to consistently deliver outstanding performances on the world stage teaches us the significance of maintaining excellence and resilience. His story motivates us to dream big, work tirelessly, and embody values that lead to personal and societal growth, making him an enduring source of inspiration for people of all ages.

What Can You Learn From Lionel Messi’s Biography?

From Lionel Messi’s biography, you can learn about the transformative impact of dedication, perseverance, and resilience in achieving exceptional goals. His journey underscores the value of embracing challenges, overcoming setbacks, and continuously honing one’s skills to reach the pinnacle of success.

The importance of maintaining humility and gratitude despite fame and accomplishments becomes evident through his story. Messi’s family-oriented values, philanthropic endeavors, and collaborative spirit emphasize the significance of giving back, fostering relationships, and working as part of a team.

Ultimately, his biography offers profound insights into the power of talent, hard work, and a positive mindset in not only excelling in one’s field but also making a positive impact on the world.

FAQs

How did Messi’s growth hormone deficiency impact his early years?

Messi’s growth hormone deficiency required medical treatment and financial support from FC Barcelona, showcasing the club’s belief in his potential even at a young age.

What are Messi’s favorite hobbies outside of football?

When not on the pitch, Messi enjoys spending time with his family, playing video games, and indulging in a game of basketball.

How does Messi handle the pressure of being a football icon?

Messi’s mental fortitude and dedication to maintaining a balanced life play a significant role in helping him handle the pressures of fame and expectations.

What is Messi’s most memorable career moment?

Winning the UEFA Champions League title with FC Barcelona in 2009 stands as one of Messi’s most cherished career moments.

How has Messi contributed to charity?

Messi established the Leo Messi Foundation, which supports healthcare and education initiatives for vulnerable children.

What is the significance of Messi’s jersey number 10?

The jersey number 10 holds great significance in football history and is often associated with the team’s playmaker and creative genius, which perfectly embodies Messi’s style of play.

Conclusion

Lionel Messi’s journey from a young boy with a dream to a global football legend is an inspiration to aspiring athletes and fans around the world. His dedication to his craft, strong values, and humility have contributed to his immense success both on and off the field. Through his unwavering commitment, Messi has left an indelible mark on the world of sports and continues to be a role model for generations to come.

Read More:-

Angus Cloud Biography, Lifestyle, Daily Routine, Net Worth, and More

If you enjoyed this blog and found it motivating, please leave a comment to let us know. Your feedback encourages us to continue sharing inspiring information. Share this blog with friends facing challenges in life, so they can be inspired to pursue their dreams. Let’s spread inspiration and make a positive impact on others.

[dc41896]

First Impressions

Since a certain rude giant wants to attack us lol, this is a quick idea I had that’s also paired with a prompt request from @lovelymari4. I did change some things around with the prompt so hopefully that’s ok and that you guys like it😄!

Pairing: Florian Munteanu x Black Reader

Prompt: Florian makes the reader feel some type of way with the choice words he has about her favorite artist

⚠️: None💕!

Watching the metal doors of the elevator slide open, you let out an exasperated breath you’d been holding in since leaving labs. Being in classes since 10 this morning, saying you were happy to be home was an understatement. You couldn’t wait to soak in your tub with your favorite bath bombs and light candles all around as part of your new mini self care routine you recently adopted so you could de-stress.

That is if you could get through the door.

Finally reaching your apartment, you find multiple boxes labeled with various household items blocking the entrance while your neighbor’s door in front of you was wide open. Music not blaring, but at a loud enough volume you could hear a few feet down the hall, you use the knocker below the peephole hopefully banging loud enough they could hear you.

“Um hello?! Scuse me, but I’m trying to figure out who’s stuff is in front of my door?!”

Appearing from around the corner in only his cotton shorts and socks stood who you assumed to be your new neighbor.

Your freakishly good looking and fit neighbor.

Shouting at someone in the room he just left in a language you couldn’t immediately catch, he makes his way towards you taking his shirt from the couch to quickly pull it over his head.

“Sorry about that, we’re moving in and kinda just left everything in the hall since it’s only our apartments on this end. Plus we knew you weren’t home-,”

“Wait how did you know I wasn’t home exactly?”

“Hey Y/N!,” your friend, Dana, smiles appearing from the same room followed by another man.

“Dana what are you doing in their apartment? And I guess you told them I wasn’t home?”

“I’m doing my part in helping the new neighbors move in of course!,” she smiles, helping slide one of the boxes inside before moving to stand beside you.

“...but you don’t even live here and you also hate packing or unpacking.”

“That’s not true, I helped you when you moved!”

“With one box and then you left to get food and it took you two hours to get back,” you retort with a smirk making your new neighbors quietly laugh to themselves and Dana roll her eyes.

“Anyway! I didn’t tell them you weren’t home they figured that out on their own but I did confirm said suspicion.”

“Yea earlier this week we went to everyone on the floor and introduced ourselves. We tried your door a few times but never got an answer. We figured you were either very busy or a hermit,” the originally shirtless one laughs. “I’m Florian by the way and this is my brother Masias.”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you reply shaking both of their hands. “Well since you guys are busy I don’t want to be in the way so I’m gonna head out.”

“You won’t be in the way if you stay, in fact we’re almost done for the day if you want to hang out for a bit. That is if you’re not too tired or don’t have a lot to do.”

“C’mon I know you’ve been stressed out with school, hang out and get your mind off of it for a while! Plus these are two super hot guys and I’m trying to get us dates,” she responds, whispering the last part and making you give her a look.

“Alright sure just let me put my bag up and change,” you answer as your best friend lightly bounces on her feet as she cheers.

———

After returning from changing into one of your university tees and sweatpants (which Dana insisted you not wear in a text she sent not long after you left knowing your usual go to outfit for when you’re home), you joined everyone else on the couch.

You got to know Florian and Masias more as you guys talked and they learned things about you as well, like how you weren’t a hermit but in graduate school working to become a Physian’s Assistant, which explained why you were never in your apartment.

A little later, Florian suggested watching a movie on Netflix to which you first were apprehensive about considering you should probably be spending your time in a more productive way, like reading over your notes and studying. However like Dana said, you didn’t have any tests for a while so you could afford a free day.

Handing the remote to Dana, both men agreed to let you guys pick which movie you wanted to see. You weren’t picky and up for anything leaving the choice to Dana.

Flipping through the different titles, you notice her instantly light up seeing her all time favorite singer, Beyoncé’s, Coachella documentary. “Ok just telling you now, if we don’t find anything else to watch this is gonna be it.”

“D, I’m sure they would rather watch something else than see Homecoming,” you lightly laugh, Dana rolling her eyes as she waves you off continuing to scroll.

“It’s fine, whatever you guys want to watch we’ll be ok with,” Florian replies, softly smiling as the setting sun shines through the open blinds onto his face making him look even more gorgeous.

“Jesus who are his parents, Greek Gods?!,” you thought as you turned your attention back to the bright screen in front of you to not stare.

“I’m not gonna lie though, I don’t really see what the excitement is about her though,” he spoke instantly causing everyone to go silent as all eyes were now on him.

Even Masias knew his brother had just messed up as he looked down shaking his head. “Flo you did not just say that in front of them.”

“I mean she’s beautiful don’t get me wrong, it’s just the music I can’t get into,” he replies, ears turning red from his nerves about what would happen next.

“Ok so I take it you’ve never really sat and listened to a Beyoncé song?,” Dana asked hands pressed together on the table in front of her as if trying to solve the greatest mystery to man.

“I mean I have, but still it didn’t do anything for me.”

“We might need to get your ears checked then.”

“Dana! Don’t listen to her, I understand. Beyoncé does make music more so for women or those who love pop and R&B. You’re more into rap so she’s not really on your music radar,” you explain trying to not only make Florian not feel bad but also let your crazed fan girl of a friend calm down from hearing the slander.

Dana was the textbook definition of a beyhive member. Any form of “disrespect” from anyone towards the queen wouldn’t be tolerated and she definitely had something to say. Never in a threatening way though like how some others were who took it too seriously.

You on the other hand were beyhive adjacent, as you liked to call it. You were technically part of the hive from your love of Beyoncé, but you definitely weren’t about the drama that would happen at times. Thus, you were off to the side of the hive in your own little honeycomb condominium.

“You know what? Just for that, we’re definitely watching it now,” she smiled starting the movie and humming along before the music even started.

———

Now after 11, you helped Florian in the kitchen clean up the glasses and two large bowls you guys used for snacks as Dana talked with Masias on the couch about the places in LA he had to check out.

“You guys don’t hate me too much do you?,” Florian asks leaning against the counter as he wipes water off his hands.

“No why would we hate you?”

“From the looks on your face when I said I wasn’t really into Beyoncé, you’d think I kicked a puppy,” he deeply chuckles making you laugh.

“I’m not gonna lie, when you first said it I did have a couple points listed if it would’ve led to a debate,” you lightly laugh. “Butt it’s like I said you have different preferences in music and that’s ok. Just maybe never mention that in front of Dana again,” you reply making him laugh harder.

“Yea don’t worry, I definitely learned my lesson.”

You spend a few more minutes talking and laughing before a small yawn creeps it’s way out of you as you cover your mouth.

“Uh oh, have we kept Cinderella out pass her curfew?,” he smirks.

“Afraid I’m gonna turn into even more of a bum than I already look?,” you ask matching his smirk as both of you laugh at what others would probably look at as a dumb joke. “I have had a long day so I probably should get going.”

“Ok, let me walk you out.”

“Florian I live literally across the hall right in front of you, you don’t have to.”

“True but anything could happen in those 10, 15 feet. Then not only will Dana hate me for not listening to Beyoncé but also because I let her friend walk out by herself.”

Giggling, you grab your phone and keys from the counter before slipping your feet into your slides beside the front door. “If you insist,” you reply slightly shrugging your shoulders. “D I’m about to leave, are you staying with me tonight?”

“And hear you up at the crack of dawn? I love you girl but I need to sleep in my own bed so I’m gonna head out in a few too,” she answers with a small stretch.

“Ok well text me when you get home. It was nice meeting you Masias!”

“Nice meeting you too Y/N! Hopefully we can all hang out again,” he smiles waving as you and Florian walk out the door.

“Thank you for walking those dangerous 10 feet with me! Who knows what would’ve happened if you weren’t here,” you say, doing your best damsel in distress impersonation.

“I’m sorry I’m a gentleman that always makes sure to walk a lady to her door,” he laughs. “But seriously though if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to get one of us. Even if you just want to get away from your work you’re welcome over here.”

You were trying to continue your cool, nonchalant attitude but the more you stood outside with him, you could feel yourself breaking. Unsure if it was the intense yet soft gaze of his green eyes looking back into yours, or how although he was nervously rubbing the back of his neck he still exuded all the confidence in the world, you felt your palms become sweaty and hoped you didn’t do or say anything stupid.

“Thanks I appreciate that. Well I have class tomorrow so I guess I should get to bed,” you softly smiled as you unlocked your door. “See you later Florian.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

With a smile and small wave, he waited until he heard you lock the door from inside before going back to his place. Smiling to himself just as you were doing with your back pressed against your door.

Taglist: @momobaby227 @crushed-pink-petals @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @melinda-january @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @lovelymari4 @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @itshinothey @wildfirecracker @nina-sj

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[jozflow]

My good friend Zac has recently written about some of his favourite photos in football.

It inspired me to write a similar piece. 5 photos, 5 images that I loved from football.

And here it is.

5. Andrei Arshavin scores 4 against Liverpool.

Russia were perhaps the surprise package of Euro 2008; knocking out Holland on their way to the Semi Finals. Their exhilarating attacking displays were spearheaded by Arshavin. Performances which would attract the attention of some of Europe's biggest names. Arsenal signed him in January 2009, but he never really lived up to his promise. He was responsible for some memorable moments however; the winning goals against Liverpool and Barcelona spring to mind. But his finest hour came late in the 08/09 season where Arsenal scuppered Liverpool's chances of a long awaited Premier League title.

One of the most amazing games that season; his face mirror's the sheer ecstacy and amazement that the away fans felt when they witnessed his man of the match performance. Arshavin had arrived.

4. Lionel Messi - Priceless

He was too small, he had a funny run, he could never be as great as Diego Maradona. He has gone on to break record after record after record. He hasn't just broken them, he's destroyed them. The subject of 100s of hours of YouTube compilations. The weight of a nation on his shoulders at every International competition. Barcelona's all time leading goal scorer. 91 goals in a single calendar year.... 91.

91? Come again?

Yes, 91.

34 Trophies won at the Nou Camp, 6 European Golden Shoes. A record 6 Balon d'Or. The greatest footballer in the world. The greatest footballer that ever lived. Priceless.

3. Thierry Henry says goodbye to Highbury

The greatest player to grace the marble halls of Highbury? Most Arsenal fans would say so and as one of them, I would agree. He was a one in a million type of player, who could've played anywhere in the world. But it was at Arsenal where he fell in love.

Of his 174 Premier League goals, 114 were scored at Highbury. He often spoke of his love for that stadium; his home. His successes began here and would carry on for several years, defining the player he would become. Under the management of his mentor, Arsene Wenger, he would win 2 Premier League titles, 3 FA Cups and 4 PL Golden Boots.

The last game at Highbury and a place in the Champions League was in the balance. Spurs would lose away at West Ham which meant Arsenal needed to win at home to Wigan. Cue a 4-2 victory and Henry scores a hat trick. The perfect farewell to a wonderful venue.

2. Milan derby

Rivalries in football are what make the drama so emphatic. Across the world, fans from opposition teams are filled with such passion and desire to see their team win against their rivals; and you could argue that it doesn't get any greater than The Derby della Madonnina.

Italian fans are some of the most passionate in the world. Well, Italians in general are. Throughout the 90s and early 00s, Italian football was at the peak of its powers. The biggest and best names in football were there. The likes of Juventus, AC Milan, Inter Milan, Lazio, Parma, Fiorentina, etc would establish themselves in European competitions and their stadiums created some of the greatest atmospheres from that era.

This is an image that defines Italian football for me. The flares are etched in my memory from all those mornings watching Football Italia on Channel 4.

1. Andre Iniesta sits alone inside the Nou Camp

Iniesta came through La Masia, the Barcelona youth academy, after an early migration from his birthplace, and impressed from an early age. He made his first-team debut aged 18 in 2002. He left in 2018, leaving behind one of the greatest careers in football history.

Widely regarded as one of the finest footballers of his generation, he has won everything. With his fellow countryman, Xavi, he formed the greatest midfield partnership of the last 30 years.

I think this photo is one the most poignant I have ever seen. You only need to look at it to know everything going through his head. Replaying great games, great moments with great friends. Fierce rivalries. Upsetting defeats. Title wins and losses. Managers coming and going. Players too. Lining up with the best and against the best. Played the highest level of football for over 15 years; a dying breed in modern football. A mainstay in the greatest club team in history. A legend.

#arshavin #liverpoolarsenal #anfield #lionelmessi #priceless #mastercard #fcbarcelona #thierryhenry #Highbury #arsenal #rossanieri #acmilan #intermilan #ruicosta #materazzi #seriea #iniesta #noucamp

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (II)

alexia putellas x sister.

chapter I

~~~~~~

My fingers are dancing on the piano keys, the soft melody leaving my mouth in a quiet hum when Alba walks into my room that night. My mouth closes as the door opens, but my fingers are unstoppable, continuing to abuse the keys as I continue to play the song.

My hands rest on the last keys I pressed when I am done and I think Alba is crying, unless she suddenly has allergies. It is quiet for a few moments before she speaks.

"If you weren't so good at football I would try and convince you to do this forever."

She sighs, standing up and motioning for me to follow her as she laid on my bed. I move beside her, my head now resting on her shoulder.

"I remember when you first played the piano." She smiles, reminiscing on the fond memory. "You were three, you couldn't reach the pedals but you insisted that Papi taught you something. You made us all squish onto the sofa in his office so we could listen to you play and you gave us a very slow and broken version of La Vaca Lechera. It was terrible but Papi was so proud because you had only been playing for a month and could already play with both hands. He picked you up and claimed that you would be the greatest piano player to ever walk the planet. He would be so proud of his pequena superestrella."

"I wish I knew him." They're the only words I can bring myself to say.

"He was a very good man, I miss him a lot. He would have been so proud of Ale with all her football and so proud of you with it too. And your piano. Mami sometimes says to me that you are a mini him."

I realise she is avoiding herself, a habit she got herself into a few years ago, when I followed in Alexia's footsteps by securing my spot in La Masia. She used to be upset, it was unfair. Why had the football gene just skipped her?

"He would be proud of you as well, Alba."

She shrugs, I think she tries to blinks away tears but doesn't succeed because one lands on my head

"I hope so..." she pauses. "It is harder for me to imagine because I am not outstanding at anything like you and Alexia. I am just Alba which is ok but I just don't know what he would be proud of me for."

"There is no such thing as 'just Alba' because you are the best person I know. You don't need to play football for him to be proud of you. Do you realise you are the person we all go to when we need anything? When I am sad, Alba, when I am happy, Alba, when I want to laugh, Alba, when I want to cry, Alba. You are my answer for everything, hermana. That is better than any song on the piano or the biggest trophy there is to be won."

"You are so cute, I love you." She giggles quietly and wraps her arms around me. "Aitana called me earlier and I wanted to come over and make sure you are ok."

"What did she say?"

"Not much, she just asked if everything was ok between you and me and Ale. I didn't tell her the truth, if you were wondering."

"What did you say?"

"I just said that Alexia is struggling with her injuries and that you both are very busy. I don't think she really believed me. Either that or she knows there is something else going on."

I groaned. "She kept giving me looks as we were driving home and it was annoying."

"It's sweet, she's looking out for you." Alba smiles and ruffles my hair. "You are only a little baby to them. 15 is young, pequena!"

"Yeah, well it'd be nice if my own sister did that, wouldn't it." I snap back at her and she recoils slightly.

"You won't let me do anything about it, Elena, so don't get feisty with me! Alexia is complicated and I can't even get anything out of her." She rolls her eyes. Alba is sick of all of the tension. She has been for a while.

"I don't know what to say to her anymore. Does she even know that I was called up?"

"Mami said that she wasn't going to tell her because she wanted her to hear it from you."

"She had no problem telling me when Alexia got a new girlfriend." I'm petty about it, but sometimes I think I deserve to be.

"I cannot believe you still have not met Olga." Alba sighs, flopping back down onto my mattress. "She is very nice, I think you would like her." 

"I am good at getting out of things." I shrug my shoulders and Alba rolls her eyes again. "I don't want to meet her."

"You liked Jenni so much, maybe this could be the same?"

"I still talk to Jenni, on the phone. Maybe we should start an anti- Alexia Putellas club."

Alba groans and sits up, causing me to grunt in annoyance as my head is knocked onto the mattress.

"You know I don't like all of this venom between you two, so please just leave me out of it. I've had enough of you not telling me what the problem is, I am so, so sick of it. You used to be so close that I was jealous of your relationship and now all you do is complain about each other to me." She flops back onto my mattress in frustration.

"You don't understand, Alb, you don't understand what it is like for someone you idolise to practically forget your existence. She used to come to all my games and now she doesn't even know I was called up." She rolls her eyes as I move back to the piano stall, ignoring the way my voice cracked and my eyes sting with tears. 

"Mierda, Elena! How many times do I have to tell you? She has been so busy. I'm sure she has tried to get to them." Even Alba can't explain Alexia's absence. 

"Si, si, you have said that before but you can't understand because she never forgot about you. You didn't used to have an older sister who used to drive you to all of your trainings and games before she decided she was too busy for you and shoved you on the Barcelona busses at the age of 11!" My fingers begin to ghost the keys. Like I said to Aitana, the piano is a good outlet for my emotions. I am glad Mami let me put Papi's old piano into my room. I don't think she is glad when I wake her up in the dark hours of the morning playing loud songs.

"I have an older sister and a younger sister who used to be close and then fell out. I have a father who is dead and a busy mother. We were indestructible, Elena, but look at us now."

My left hand finds a chord and presses down on the four keys, calming my brain down.

"I am sorry that you are hurt by what has happened between Alexia and I, but I am so upset and I don't know what to do."

Alba's eyes softened but I looked down at the keys in front of me, sighing softly as she sat next to me.

"I'm sorry I can't help you more. I don't truly know what happened, but I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"I want that too." A tear found it's way from the back of my eyes but I wiped it away before it had a chance to fall down my cheek.

My fingers picked up another tune, familiarity gracing through my fingertips, the sounds floating around the room. Alba's head rests on my shoulder again and we both tell ourselves it will be ok. Alba likes when I play the piano because if she closes her eyes she can pretend it is our father.

"He was never as good as you are, hermanita."

~~~~~~

The rest of the training week went well. Better than well, but I was mainly just relieved that I wasn't a big disappointment.

The negative of my good performance is that I will be put on the team list. Jonatan pulled me aside after training today and told me I am on it and I thanked him with a smile, hiding my emotions.

I knew my sister was going to find out sooner or later. I'm honestly surprised it has taken her this long, it is not like she has been completely absent from the training grounds. Aitana seems to be the only one who has noticed that me and Alexia have not spoken, but she still has not got anything out of me.

I tell Mami to lock the doors and windows when the team list comes out because I don't want to face Alexia when she inevitably comes over and asks about it. She tells me to stop being ridiculous.

I manage to lock myself in my room when I hear her car coming up the driveway. As soon as she is in the house I climb out the window and walk to the bus stop. I don't want to deal with her tonight. I don't want to deal with her ever, to be honest.

The bus driver smiles at me as I tap on, heading to the back of the bus, no destination in mind. I am happy to just sit there as it drives through my home. My phone is unsurprisingly buzzing of the hook, full of congratulatory messages from friends and family and strangers and fans.

Aitana: *attachment: 1 file* very very proud of you! congrats little lena.

She had screenshotted the team list and put a big heart around my name and I think that might be what started to tears.

But before I knew i could see tears tracking down my face in my reflection as I stared out the window, my mind just wishing that things were normal. Wishing that I was at home celebrating with my family, excited to finally be on the same team as my older sister. I wish I wasn't crying on a bus trying to escape confrontation with my sister who I know will be disappointed that I am on her team.

But this is how it is.

I find myself getting off the bus outside the park near the training grounds, still not sure where I am going. I was considering heading in, practicing my shooting or going to the gym, although I expect they will be closed.

What I don't expect is to hear someone calling out to me.

"Pequena Putellas!" The voice is familiar and I recognise it almost immediately. "What is my little replacement doing out so late in the middle of Barcelona?"

Mapi reached me quickly despite the crutches that she doesn't seem to be relying on too heavily.

"Congratulations, replacement! First team sheet-" she stops when she sees my face. "oh."

"Hola Mapi." I put on a smile but it is a weak effort. "I'm just heading home."

"Si, this is about you and Ale, no?" I look at her curiously and she rolls her eyes. "You don't think I wouldn't have noticed? She is my best friend!"

"And that is why I can't talk to you! I have to go home because they will be looking for me." She rolls her eyes again.

"You are coming over to my house and we are talking about this like grown-ups because you are now a professional athlete. You are not a grown up but you have grown up since I saw you last pequena!" She smiles lightly and uses one arm to pull me into a hug. It is awkward with her crutches. "I have missed you so much." Her words are mumbled quietly into my hair, her arms warming me with comfort and nostalgia. 

Apparently, the new apartment Mapi has moved into with Ingrid is right across the road from the park so we walk back, Mapi getting increasingly frustrated as I become more and more reluctant.

"Maria, please just let me go home?"

She was adamant that she wanted to talk. I just think she wants to know what happened between me and Alexia but I can't tell her. She wouldn't understand. Nobody would understand because everyone would just think I'm being childish and petty. Maybe that's just what I am.

We stand in silence as the elevator takes us up the levels to the apartment.

"Ingrid is not home, she is out with Frido tonight so you do not have to talk to her."

I let out a quiet exhale in relief. Ingrid is nice enough from what I know of her in training but I don't want to have this unwanted conversation in front of anyone else.

Mapi and I used to be close. She was never my favourite but that is mainly because I saw her so often that the novelty of her had worn off quickly and I found myself gravitating away from her at trainings because, like Alexia, she was just always around.

But Mapi loved me like I was her little sister because she never had any of her own. She did a lot for me as a child and tried to pretend that she wasn't offended by my blatant favouritism of other players.

She sat down on the sofa in her living room as soon as she opened the door and I grabbed her crutches that she had thrown on the floor and stood them up against the wall.

"Thankyou, now sit here." She patted the seat beside her and I sat down, my arms crossed. "Do you want to tell me why you were crying alone in the middle of Barcelona, 45 minutes away from home?"

I shook my head.

"Will Mami be mad?" I hate the wobble in my voice.

"No, I texted her and told her you were with me and she said it is ok. She is not mad at you, pequena."

"I don't like being called that anymore." I slumped down in my seat.

"What do you want to be called?" I am surprised that she didn't ask why. I suppose it might be obvious.

"I usually just get called my name." I pause. "Elena."

She smiles lightly, though I can see the water in her eyes.

"I know your name. I know you very well, Lena, I have for a long time but I also know your sister very well and I know that there have been problems for a while now and I know that she is trying her very best to not make it obvious that it is ripping her up and you are doing a very bad job of hiding your sadness. Why did you not tell her you had been called up into the first team?"

I roll my eyes but choose not to respond.

"No, don't roll your eyes at me, peque- Elena. I understand something must have happened but it is big news that you neglected to tell her!"

"What is bigger news? Breaking up with your girlfriend or being called up as a replacement in a football team?"

She hesitated and I continued.

"Getting a new girlfriend or being called up as a replacement? Buying a dog or being called up as a replacement? Being told you are about to win the Ballon d'Or or being called up as a replacement? She told me nothing for so long so don't you dare try and tell me that I should tell her about my life when she does not care to tell me about hers!"

Mapi recoiled and I immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. What else has she done to make you upset?"

"No, Mapi, we're not doing this because you don't need to know about what my sister has done to me. I don't need a psychologist, I just need to grow out of being the pathetic and weak baby Putellas. The younger sister of La Reina who has not had to work hard because her pathway has already been paved and everything has been handed to her on a silver platter." My voice is bored, like I am in front of a class, presenting a boring speech that I have practiced in my bedroom for weeks. 

"Why do you say that? Where is this all coming from?" Her voice raises slightly and her arms wave about as she speaks.

"Because it is true, Maria, why else would things be the way they are? I don't deserve this, it's only been given to me because of my surname." My voice is clearly becoming more urgent and I try to calm myself down. It doesn't work. 

"Where are you getting this from? You need to stop making this stuff up in your head and telling it to yourself because it could not be further from the tr-" Mapi's voice was raised, only slightly, but I could hear the wobble in her voice.

"I am not telling myself this stuff, Alexia did! And Alexia is right, she always has been and she always will be. She is a football geek she knows everything."

Mapi pauses, her mouth opening like a goldfish and her eyes staring straight into mine for any hint of exaggeration or lies. She found none. I have never been a liar.

"She... she said that? To you?" Mapi was surprised. How could her best friend have said something like that to the little girl that meant the world to her? "Alexia said that to you?"

I regret my small outburst immediately; I didn't want to tell Mapi. My fingers begin to get restless, my heart racing, my gum held firmly between my teeth. It is in these moments that I would move to the piano and prepare myself to play a song. My fingers ghost imaginary keys by my side as I take a deep breath, preparing myself to beg and plead; to do whatever I need for Mapi to forget everything I just said. 

"No, you cannot say anything, Maria, this is all a lie, I am dramatic, I am making it all up. Please, just forget I said anything. Please." Tears began to slip out of my eyelids and the expression on my face can only be described as desperation.

"calma, calma. vale. I will forget everything and I will not tell anybody, as long as you don't want me to. But pequenita, it is not true, not true at all and you don't deserve for anybody at all to speak to you like that. You are talented, so talented that I am jealous of you, not your natural talents but your work ethic, Elena, your work ethic is admirable. You are so strong and you have worked for every single opportunity you have been offered and do not ever-" I look away from her.

"Look at me, Elena, look." I look towards her again and notice the water in her eyes.

"Do not ever let anybody tell you otherwise and if you do you call me up immediately and they will get a piece of my mind, si?"

I slump into Mapi's familiar arms and let out a small cry and she just squeezes me harder. I haven't ever told anyone that much of the conversation I had with Alexia - not even Alba - and to hear her best friend attempt to squash any of the worries I had about myself was refreshing. My fingers begin to ghost imaginary piano keys, preparing to begin playing a piece.

"Was this before or after you transferred to La Masia? That is around when she stopped going to your games, no?" Her voice was soft and I felt the need to answer.

"It was during the party that Mami held, when my spot at the academy was accepted. That was the reason why I started crying when I was talking to you. You probably don't even remember that, it was so long ago." I let out a dry chuckle and she rubbed her hand down my back.

"I remember. I remember thinking you were not telling me the truth but I had no idea what was wrong. You have been suffering in silence ever since?"

I don't want to nod my head because it feels dramatic to say that. 

"I told Alba only a little bit of it but nobody else knows. Please, please, please don't tell anybody. Not Mami, not Alexia, not anyone. Please." I looked up at her and she stared at me wordlessly for a few moments before exhaling softly.

"Elena..." She pauses again. "As much as I want to go and give your stupid sister a piece of my mind I will not but on the condition that you talk to Alba or your Mami or me or anyone about it, si? Even Alexia. Maybe she has forgotten. But she misses you, that much I can tell."

I nod, wordlessly making a promise that I know I can not keep. She seems to be satisfied though and changes the topic.

"vale, buena. It is too late to drive you home so you will stay here tonight and Ingrid and I will drive you to Johan tomorrow, si?"

I nod, I do not have a choice.

"Is there a piano in this apartment?"

~~~~~~

Mapi saying she had a piano is an overstatement, it is a keyboard with Norwegian inscriptions that was shoved into the corner of the unused study. Apparently Ingrid does not play the piano but has always wanted to learn.

But, I take the equipment for what it is and sit on the stall, flicking through the different sounds for a while before I find something I like. The office chair behind me squeaks as Mapi sits down but I ignore her presence as I place my fingers on the keyboard.

She would have noticed the release of tension in my shoulders when I sat down. She would have noticed the sigh of relief that I released as my fingers placed themselves on the keyboard.

The song starts out slow. Ludovico Einaudi is one of my favourite composers. His notes sing out from the keyboard speakers and soon they become faster and more intense. Nuvole Bianche is a pretty song, in my opinion, and I like to make up stories as I play it whenever I do. Sometimes I relate to the stories and other times I do not.

But the song builds and builds until a brief pause in the middle in which I hear Mapi sniffling and there is shuffling downstairs. Ingrid must have arrived home. The song picks back up quickly and before I know it the last few chords are ringing out through the room and Mapi has come to stand behind me and is rubbing her hand down my back.

"The last song you played me was un elefante se balanceaba and now you are playing this. You made us sing along and you went all the way to 50, we were in there for a long time. But now you have grown up. You are still so young but you have grown up now I am so proud of you."

I can hear the tears in her eyes so I stand up and pull her into a hug. I feel guilty, she is Alexia's best friend and I accidentally slipped what Alexia said which could potentially drive them apart. But I can't help but feel relieved, I feel comfort which is something I have been looking for for such a long time. Mapi used to be like a sister to me. I don't think I even realised how much I have missed her. 

"That song was so hard!"

She chuckles into the hug and I do too.

Maybe I deserve to feel like this every once in a while.

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed x

chapter III

[release-info]

SEARCH PEOPLE NOSTALGIA CELEBRITY HISTORY & CULTURE CRIME & SCANDAL COMEDY GIANTS VIDEO ABOUT CONTACT US ADVERTISE PRIVACY NOTICE TERMS OF USE COPYRIGHT POLICY AD CHOICES PRIVACY SETTINGS Logo Lionel Messi Lionel Messi Biography Children’s Activist (1987–) Argentina native Lionel Messi has established records for goals scored and won individual awards en route to worldwide recognition as one of the best players in soccer. Who Is Lionel Messi? Luis Lionel Andres (“Leo”) Messi (b. June 24, 1987) is an Argentinian soccer player who plays forward for the FC Barcelona club and the Argentine national team. At the age of 13, Messi moved from Argentina to Spain after FC Barcelona agreed to pay for his medical treatments. There he earned renown as one of the greatest players in history, helping his club win more than two dozen league titles and tournaments. In 2012, he set a record for most goals in a calendar year, and in 2016, he was named Europe’s Ballon d’Or winner for the fifth time. Lionel Messi, April 2017. (Photo: Josep Lago AFP Getty Images) Lionel Messi, April 2017. (Photo: Josep Lago AFP Getty Images) Net Worth As of 2017, Lionel Messi is worth an estimated $80 million, taking into account his salary plus bonuses and endorsements, according to Forbes.com. That makes Messi the second highest-paid soccer player and the third highest-paid athlete in the world, after fellow soccer great Cristiano Ronaldo and basketball star LeBron James. Almost universally regarded as the best soccer player in the game, Messi has become the commercial face of soccer with endorsements from Adidas, Pepsi, EA Sports and Turkish Airways, among other companies. Height Lionel Messi is 5 feet, 7 inches tall and weighs 72 kilograms (159 pounds). With his short stature, speed and relentless attacking style, Messi has drawn comparisons to another famous Argentinian footballer, Diego Maradona. Birthday Lionel Messi was born on June 24, 1987, in Rosario, Argentina. Wife On June 30, 2017, Lionel Messi married Antonella Roccuzzo, his longtime girlfriend and the cousin of his best friend and fellow soccer player Lucas Scaglia. Messi met Roccuzzo in their hometown of Rosario when he was five years old. Their marriage, a civil ceremony dubbed by Argentina’s Clarín newspaper as the “wedding of the century,” was held at a luxury hotel in Rosario, with a number of fellow star soccer players and Colombian pop star Shakira on the 260-person guest list. Messi’s Sons Messi became a father in November 2012 when Roccuzzo gave birth to a son, Thiago. In September 2015, the couple’s second son, Mateo, was born. Early Life As a young boy, Lionel Messi tagged along when his two older brothers played soccer with their friends, unintimidated by the bigger boys. At the age of eight, he was recruited to join the youth system of Newell’s Old Boys, a Rosario-based club. Recognizably smaller than most of the kids in his age group, Messi was eventually diagnosed by doctors as suffering from a hormone deficiency that restricted his growth. Messi’s parents, Jorge and Ceclia, decided on a regimen of nightly growth-hormone injections for their son, though it soon proved impossible to pay several hundred dollars per month for the medication. So, at the age of 13, when Messi was offered the chance to train at soccer powerhouse FC Barcelona’s youth academy, La Masia, and have his medical bills covered by the team, Messi’s family picked up and moved across the Atlantic to make a new home in Spain. Although he was often homesick in his new country, Messi moved quickly through the junior system ranks. Barcelona Soccer Player By the age of 16, Messi made his first appearance for the FC Barcelona. He put himself in the record books on May 1, 2005, as the youngest player to ever score a goal for the franchise. That same year, he led Argentina to the title in the under-20 World Cup, scoring on a pair of penalty kicks to propel the team over Nigeria. Messi steered Barcelona to a wealth of success, most notably in 2009, when the left-footer’s team captured the Champions League, La Liga, and Spanish Super Cup titles. That same year, after two consecutive runner-up finishes, he took home his first FIFA “World Player of the Year” honor/Ballon d’Or award. Even the great Maradona gushed about his fellow countryman. “I see him as very similar to me,” the retired player told the BBC. “He’s a leader and is offering lessons in beautiful football. He has something different than any other player in the world.” Amazingly, the soccer wizard continued to improve, discovering new ways to elude defenders while leading Barcelona to La Liga and Spanish Super Cup championships in 2010 and 2011, as well as the ’11 Champions League title. Messi embarked on an all-out assault on the record books in 2012. He became the first player to score five goals in a Champions League match in early March, and a few weeks later he surpassed Cesar Rodriguez’s club-record 232 goals to become Barcelona’s all-time leading scorer. By the end of 2012, Messi had accumulated an astounding 91 goals in club and international play, eclipsing the 85 netted in a single calendar year by Gerd Muller in 1972. Fittingly, he broke another record when he was named the FIFA Ballon d’Or winner for the fourth time in January 2013. The soccer great came back to earth somewhat that year due to the persistence of hamstring injuries, but he regained his record-breaking form by becoming the all-time leading scorer in La Liga and Champions League play in late 2014. After helping Barcelona achieve a historic second treble in 2015, he was honored with his fifth FIFA Ballon d’Or trophy. Argentina National Team Controversy For all his success with Barcelona, Messi has come under fire for his inability to help Argentina’s national team win a major title. He did lead “La Albiceleste” to the final of the 2014 World Cup, and was named player of the tournament, although his team lost to Germany. In 2016, following Argentina’s second consecutive loss to Chile in the final of the Copa America tournament, Messi announced he was ending his run with the national team. The soccer great eventually reversed his decision, but his participation in the 2018 World Cup did not bring that elusive title, as hoped. After Messi scored an early goal in a 2-1 win over Nigeria that helped his team advance from the group stage, he was largely kept in check by France, his two assists not enough to stave off a 4-3 defeat that sent Argentina packing. Tax Fraud Scandal In July 2016, Messi suffered a blow off the soccer field when a Barcelona court found him and his father guilty of three counts of tax fraud. During a four-day trial, Messi and his father denied breaking the law and claimed they were unaware of any tax illegalities that were committed. However, they were both sentenced to 21 months in prison. Under Spanish law, first offenses under two years are suspended so they will not go to jail, but Messi will pay a fine of 2 million euros and his father is required to pay 1.5 million euros. Charity and UNICEF Although he is famously quiet and private off the field, Messi has found ways to help others in need. In 2007, he formed the Leo Messi Foundation to provide opportunities for disadvantaged youths. In early 2010, UNICEF named him a goodwill ambassador, with a focus on fighting for children’s rights across the globe. Related Videos Mia Hamm – Mini Biography (TV-PG; 2:33) Hope Solo – Mini Biography (TV-PG; 2:41) Cristiano Ronaldo – Mini Biography (TV-PG; 3:38) David Beckham – Mini Biography (TV-PG; 3:56) Fact Check We strive for accuracy and fairness. If you see something that doesn’t look right, contact us! Citation Information Article Title Lionel Messi Biography Author Biography.com Editors Website Name The Biography.com website URL http://bit.ly/2Et9T4d Access Date 24 May 2019 Publisher A&E Television Networks Last Updated May 14, 2019 Original Published Date April 2, 2014 Biography Newsletter Sign up for the Biography newsletter to receive stories about the people who shaped our world and the stories that shaped their lives. email address SUBSCRIBE MORE STORIES FROM BIOGRAPHY ATHLETES Cristiano Ronaldo (1985–) ATHLETES Diego Maradona (1960–) ATHLETES David Beckham (1975–) ATHLETES Mia Hamm (1972–) MUSICIANS Lionel Richie (1949–) ATHLETES Pelé (1940–) ATHLETES Hope Solo (1981–) ATHLETES Zinedine Zidane (1972–) ATHLETES Carli Lloyd (1982–) SEE MORE About Contact Us Advertise Privacy Notice Terms of Use Copyright Policy Ad Choices © 2019 Bio and the Bio logo are registered trademarks of A&E Television Networks, LLC. #football#messi#lifestyle#crypto#Release#Leo #messi #biography#barcelona http://bit.ly/2WmIs6n

[fcbarceloona]

I'm at one point where I dont really care about winning the champions or la liga or being the best team, i just want the old Barça back, like i really miss it when the team was complete, with our la masia guys, we had Puyi Xàvi Valdés Thiago Pedro and the list goes on.. we weren't even focused on winning titles, we were just playing our game trying our best and you could see our players having fun on the pitch. I miss that Barça, I miss that reckless street game which nonetheless brought us 6 titles in one year. I just don't feel the same energy, the same vibes compared to what we used to be, it just seems like these days everyone who joins Barça is just to prove a point, that he is a valuable player and he joined one of the greatest teams, but Barça is way above that, Barça is a way of thinking, it's a way of living, it's in the DNA, you either have it or you don't. Barça you feel it, it's innate. Many people are missing this very fact, you could be a simple player but if you got that DNA, you could help make Barça a better team and vice versa, you can be the world's greatest alive but you won't give Barça anything and it won't reward you back. Idk if I'm even making sense rn, I guess it's just my nostalgic alter getting the best of me lol but I just had to get this out because I really miss what we used to be.. 💙❤

[freebestbettingtips]

'The next Messi' has no regrets at Stoke

New Post has been published on https://bestfreebettingtips.com/the-next-messi-has-no-regrets-at-stoke-2/

'The next Messi' has no regrets at Stoke

Once considered the greatest prospect from La Masia and ‘the new Lionel Messi’, Bojan Krkic now finds himself failing to make the bench in the English second tier, but the former wonderkid has no regrets about leaving FC Barcelona.

After scoring a staggering 850 goals as he rose through Barca’s esteemed youth academy, Bojan was predicted as the next icon of the LaLiga giants.

Instead, he left at the age of 20 after losing his place in the starting XI under then new manager Pep Guardiola, despite making 163 first-team appearances.

In his spell with the Blaugrana he won La Liga three times, the Champions League twice, a Copa del Rey, a Uefa Super Cup, two Spanish Super Cups and the Club World Cup.

Since then he has since played for AS Roma, AC Milan, Ajax Amsterdam and Stoke City – where he has now returned after two separate loan spells with Mainz in the Bundesliga and Alaves back in Spain.

“Here in England is the place I feel more respected outside the pitch,” the 28-year-old told BBC Sport. “I feel really proud of my career – more here in England than in Spain.

“I played in the semi-final of the Champions League, I played for big teams, and now I’m in the Championship. This emotionally is difficult but I’m enjoying it.

“In Spain and Italy, when you win you are the best and when you lose, you are very bad. In Italy, one game you win and score, you cannot go in the street because the people are so enthusiastic, and when you lose they go crazy. After the game they wait for you.

“In Spain and Italy, when you win you are the best and when you lose, you are very bad. In Italy, one game you win and score, you cannot go in the street because the people are so enthusiastic, and when you lose they go crazy. After the game they wait for you.

“Many players don’t care about that pressure. There are players who are more sensitive. Here in England, you don’t feel this and can enjoy playing. It’s different to play here than those places.”

[processfc]

Clearing The Ball Is An Intellectual Defeat

Javier Santos interviewed Xavi - often referred to has "the best midfield in the history of the game", and talked with him about his career, his love for football and for clearing the ball properly.

In recent years, Football has focused on the physical aspect, so much that it seems difficult to improve it. Only thing remaining to ameliorate is the Football IQ? I totally agree with that. You have to improve game's intelligence and focus on talent. It all depends on the coaches obviously. But today, in training sessions, there is 60% of physical training and 40% devoted to the technical part. In other words, 0% of the time is devoted to the reflection of the game, to its interpretation. You cannot enter a Football pitch with just motivation, like: 'Vamos!', 'Come on!' It helps, yes, but it's not everything. The mind is the most important thing to work on for the future in Football. 

How is it possible to improve the work on the mental aspect of the game? Football is a sport in which you have to watch what is going on around you to find the best possible solution. If you do not relate to others, you do not know anything and you cannot do anything. There is the space-time thing to apprehend in this game. And if you are not aware of it and you're not thinking about it, it's complicated. What makes the difference today in football? It's talent. And what is talent? It is the possibility of controlling what you do and what others do, because you play with your head and not only with your feet. I love Usain Bolt, he's a great athlete. Physically, nobody comes close to him. Who runs faster than him? No one. But with all due respect to him, he will never make any difference on a Football pitch. Why? Because we can not supplant mental speed and game's intelligence with physical abilities. It's impossible. (He gets up and goes next to his friend Matias). If I pass the ball to you and Matias moves from one side to the other. There you have to look where he is before you go. It's simple, right? To observe is to evaluate the situation in order to decide better. When you lift your head, you are in the reflection, you activate your neurons. On the other hand, if I give you the ball and I tell you: 'Pass the ball and Matias sends it back to you!', you do not think anymore. You are just in mechanization. 

Some training centers believe that repeating the same things leads to perfection.. It's heartbreaking. If the coach says: 'Xavi, pass the ball to Matias, who passes it to Javier, Javier to Xavi, Xavi to Matias again, & so on for ten mins, what`s the point? What does it improve? Maybe the passes' technique, OK, but when do we activate the brain? We are stuck on elementary mechanic physical principles. During training, some players are even asked to run ten meters for no useful reasons: 'After the pass, you have to sprint!' But where? Why? Running is good, doing it smartly is better. Do players at least try to understand why some coaches try to make them do these things? l, personally, always had the will, I would even say the curiosity, to understand what is happening on the pitch. Why? How? Where?' These are questions I would constantly ask myself and will continue to do when I become a coach. We do not all have the same thoughts. There are professional players who do not understand what is happening on the pitch. Simply because they weren't trained to develop their talent, to think about what`s happening with them. But Piaget said that intelligence is what we do when we do not know the situation we are in.. l couldn't agree more. Intelligence is the ability to react and adapt to a problem that has never been encountered. Knowing how to encounter situations that have never been confronted is pure intelligence. It is true in everyday's life, but also in Football: 'This is new, I do not know it, but I will try to get out of it.' Dani Alves' match on his right side, between the opposing lines, at the Bernabéu, was spectacular. We always have the impression that he is everywhere. He is an incredible player. Incredible. But truthfully, he does not play with his feet. He does it with his brain. Same with Verratti. How does he play? With his neurons. He's small, not fast, but he's smart. He plays a lot like me. If he did not play with his head, he wouldn't be able to play Football.

The first time you saw Iniesta at La Masia, did you tell everyone: 'If this guy do not succeed, then he is an idiot..' Well, Andrés is a special case. He has an unusual talent, he could not fail, impossible. There was another Iniesta at Barça. I will always remember his name: Mario Rosas. If you saw how he played at 15, 16 or 17, you would say: 'When this guy makes to the first team, the Camp Nou will hallucinate.' He was a mixture of Laudrup and Messi, for real. He played with two feet, dribbled, was competitive. He had it all, but he got lost. It shocked me. Maybe he was not professional enough or didn't have a strong mentality, we will never know. Adolescence is a crucial period in life, your personality isn't yet fully built and it is very easy to make mistakes. You are full of doubts: 'Will I be able to play for Barça?' 'Will I have the level for the first division?' 'Will I make it to the NT?' You can fix these issues if you are mentally stable and have a supportive family. I`ve had the chance to always be protected by my family. Andrés’ family has also been amazing and taught him a bunch of values. But there are players who have chaotic lives, with complicated parents. When you don't have a support or someone to refer to, it's hard. It's been a lesson in life. Puyol, Valdés and I suffered at the beginning of our career. It was complicated with Barça. 

What do you mean when you say you suffered at the beginning of your career with Barcelona? People used to tell me that I was the cancer of Barça, that I did not have the ability to play for this club. That with me, we would never win the Champions League. They said that Iniesta and I were incompatible. Visionaries... Iniesta and Xavi together on the ground? It was a taboo until the arrival of Rijkaard and Luis Aragonés. It's them who made us play together for the first time. They believed in us. And we made them proud. Fortunately, we won titles. Without that, we'd have been killed. It's the business of football. You should have in mind that once you become a professional, you will get exposed. what`s funny about Football is that everyone thinks they understand it. People who think they know football are many but all they do is criticize and criticize. That's why it's essential to have clear ideas. Is it because of these clear idea that Maradona calls you: ' a Football Master'? That's nice, right? Coming from Maradona, an idol. But I am not a Football genius. I am just a student of Cruyff's school, and Cruyff summarized football in a sentence: 'Football should be played with the mind.' I have had to use my brain to play Football. I am not Mbappé. How does he play? He runs, pushes the ball, passes a player. I don't have Mbappé's legs, but I use my brain. I compensate like that. I came to Barca when I was 11 and from the first day, I was forced to understand everything I did. We cannot play Football if we don't understand everything that happens on the pitch. It goes deeper than just the contact between the foot and the ball. Each reflection, each question open new perspectives. Why are we asked to give space to each other? Or to open up the game? It's logic. Imagine that I have the ball and I want to give it to a team-mate but an opponent is in between the two of us and wants to take the ball. If there is enough space between my team-mate and l, the other player can't do anything. I think like this: 'If he comes to me, I pass the ball to my man.' And, bam, the ball is already in the other direction. If we are in a confined space, we can easily lose the ball. That's the accordion of Cruyff. When we don't have the ball, what should we do? Defend highly and shortly. Why? To f*cking stifle the rival by closing spaces. The less space we give our opponents, the less chance they have to reach our goal. what`s Football? It's space-time. Concretely, what do you do to apprehend the game? What should I do when I have the ball? Search for free areas to save time for reflection. What should I do when I do not have it? Cut the opponent's space not to allow him to find solutions. If done correctly, the opponent is confined to a space-time mistake. He has less space to move the ball, so less time to think. It's a summary, but to put all this in motion, you have to pay attention to a lot of details. For example, if I get the ball on the touchline, I have to be able to stand in a way that would give me the opportunity to look at what`s going on on the pitch. If I look in the stands' direction or on the sideline, what’s the point ? It's simple, but I still see players doing it. 'But what are you doing, how can you turn your back to the game?' No, no, no. You have to have look properly at the pitch. If I get the ball and try to put myself in a position that would make me see the pitch, I see it all. I take the information on space and I save time to think. It makes sense, right? And yet some players put themselves in complicated situations, like the comer side, but why? You'll have to turn around, you're going to waste valuable time. Losing time in football is like losing gold. 

What is your biggest quality, according to you? Like everyone else, I surely have something innate. Technically, I`m not bad. But my greatest quality is mental speed. I love 'Rondo'. Everyone sees this as a simple warm-up exercise, it's wrong! It must not be something you do for fun, but didactic. It is great for the technique, for the speed of execution, for the vision of game. 

Nowadays, Football is full of statistics.  It makes me laugh to see all these GPS that they put on our bodies. Because when they look at the data, statisticians say to themselves: 'On 100 passes, 80 were accurate. ' Oh really? And how do you know they were good? Do you know how they count them? For them, it's valid from the moment the player controls the ball that I sent to him. This is a good pass for the GPS. So yes, the guy may have controlled the ball, but he has four opponents on his back. So no, that's a bad pass. The good pass was elsewhere, to the one who was free of marking, the GPS doesn’t detect that. If it was enough to get rid of the ball in any way by putting the other in difficulty, I do not see the interest of statistics. I have the responsibility not to lose the ball, but I also have the one that my team-mate does not lose it. The difference between big teams and mediocre teams lies in the quality of the network of passes. The problem is that statistics will never replace sensations. They let you believe that Modric had a bad game against PSG. Sorry? Yes, he lost some balls, but he gained space, he relieved his teammates and hurt PSG. His contribution is uncountable. If you do not want to take responsibility for the loss of the ball, do it like Modric or Iniesta: keep the ball, gain space and look where is the free player. There is always someone free. Always. You know why? Because there is always the solution to give the ball to the goalkeeper. When the match begins, we are eleven against eleven, but when you have the ball, there are ten of you that want to take it, not eleven. There is always a free man. Those who say the opposite lie. Lately, people are hallucinating when they watch City. They are like: 'Gosh, they play really well!' But they play well because Guardiola spends his days finding ways to make everything work better for his players.

Some coaches also spend their days finding solutions for their players but by making them defend. The majority, yes. Whether in defense or in attack, everyone is looking for the free man, but not for the same reasons. Guardiola wants to find solutions so that his players go towards the goal. Others want to find ways to prevent the opponent to reach their goal. Simeone does that very well, for example.

Are you aware that some people get bored while watching Barça? It's incredible! Which team is boring? Barça or the team playing against them? Sometimes I hear: 'Barça is not dangerous enough.' But how can you be when you have eleven players in front of the goal? It's impossible. The team that plays on the back is not the team that tries to play, but refuses to. Isn't it boring when you watch teams losing time or sending the ball to the stands to break the rhythm? In front of ultra-defensive teams, It happened for me to ask myself: 'But how can I find spaces? There is not any.' But, there are always some. You have to move the ball from one side to the other, move, move again, and there you go, there is space. I spent my life searching for it, finding ways. Where is there space? How to make it happen? I was turning my head in all directions, I was nicknamed 'the girl from "The Exorcist"'. I do not turn my head to 360 degrees like her, but there are games where I have rotated mine more than 500 times. According to a Norwegian researcher, you produce 0.8 information per second. Why do it so often? My brain works like a processor: it stores data, informations. Turning my head helps me do it. And that's not only important, it's fundamental to master space-time. I think: My team-mate is man-marked, so I turn my head to look for another solution. Behind me, an opponent says to himself: I`m going to take the ball from him, he's turning his back, he does not see me.' Except that I saw him. Just as I saw that the player who is marking my team-mate is moving forward at the same time as his partner. Before they reach me, I passed the ball to the same team-mate who got free. I found spaces, solutions in a few seconds.  Why don't we stimulate more creativity if it's so simple? Because we tend to believe that it is impossible. If I become a coach, and that's my wish, I`d like my team to have the ball. When am I calm on a field? When my team has the ball. As a coach, it will be the same. What did Cruyff say? 'There is only one ball.' And he was right, if I have it, I do not even need to defend, it's the others who have to run after it. If they steal it, I have to get it back quickly. I want to have 99% possession, 100% if possible. The ball is what stimulates players. In Football, in any case, there are two types of coaches: those who are afraid of having the ball because they do not know what to do with it. And those who are afraid of not having it because they do not know how to live without it. These are two different ways of thinking that require intelligence. But please, give me the ball. Is it that hard not to have it? Without the ball, I`m afraid of not enjoying the game. You have to play with Iniesta to know what pleasure means. You have to have exchanged passes with Messi to understand it. 'Pam, pam, pam.' And Leo, Iniesta came. Then Busquets was there too. We had six or seven passes in a row. We did not even do it to attack. But for pure pleasure. So you, kind of, want to humiliate your opponents. No, not all. If we start making these small passes, it's because there is space to do it. And if there is space, it means that our opponent is waiting for us at the back. A player is naturally attracted to the ball, even if he plays in a team that likes possession or not. And he likes it even more if he is losing. To make a comeback, it will be necessary to recover it, so at some point, they will come to stop us. We cannot give them the ball. What do they see? Two players, men-marked, passing to each other on the sideline. While for example, when we are losing, what Messi looks for is a way to find space, attract players towards him to free his team-mates to be able to pass the ball to them. So there is something mechanical. Repeating the same things is only good if you understand why you do it. I spent my life receiving the ball from the back, turning around and looking at where opponents were. Then, my brain tells me: 'Here, there are three, there. There are two. Well, I`m going to pass it on the other side.' Sometimes I watch games on TV, and I say: 'Well, they're attacking badly.' They often do it on the side where there is the more opponents. But why? You cannot attack well If you are outnumbered. When I played with Alves and Messi, we often attacked three against one, Ok. Three against two, Ok. Three against three. But it was the maximum. As soon as you are outnumbered, you have to switch the game where there is space and time. When you watch games on television, despite the camera's different angles, do you manage to distinguish these notions of space-time? When I watch a game, I do it deeply. If a friend talks to me during a match, I say: 'Hush, I`m trying to understand! Watching a Football match is like watching a film. If you distract me, I do not understand anything about dialogues between players. Talk to me when there will be a stoppage of play. Do not be like my wife: Xavi, I do not know this. . ' I do not answer my friend. I am so absorbed by what I see. Thinking is all I have in football. I`m not Messi: he dribbles four guys. I don't. 

Maybe they never taught you how to do it.  It cannot be learned. When you are neither fast nor skillful like me, you compensate with your other qualities. During an oriented control, yes, I can erase a rival, but otherwise, have you already seen me doing stepovers? Never. Interview: "Why? I`m not comfortable with that. It's not me. I am not good with that. I feel comfortable when it comes to creating numeral superiority. Give me the ball and I will not lose it. Because I think. Because I`m watching. Because I`ve been training on this all my life. Because it's written deep inside my neurons. 

Beyond what you've learned at La Masia and while watching games on TV , you're also a fan of picking mushroom and baby-foot. Did these activities help you in any way? l have some things I always do, it's like an obsession. When I entered this room, I analyzed how the chairs, the tables were placed. I always want to sit where I can see the whole room. It's a reflex, I always do that. Because I like to control. I do not like surprises, for example, I want to know what will happen. I have an organizational capacity even on a daily basis. I know what I have to do hour by hour, without the need of a reminder. The agenda is in my brain. 

You seem to be pretty good at Tetris, right? Are you kidding me? I was a champion. Do you see the pieces falling so fast? Well, it was me. I did not play anything else on Game Boy. It is a game in which you cannot do anything: you have to fit the pieces in a certain direction, anticipate the ones that will fall. It is a puzzle game that awakens your cognitive abilities. Sometimes you cannot play Tetris, so you have a little free space, you have to know what to do with it, guess the piece that will come, choose the right moment to drag it to such and such a place. It's space-time, like Football. Everyone who has played Tetris knows what I mean. You make a whole block leaving a space to fit the large piece so that it fits well. That's thinking about the second action. And preparation for Tetris is the same in Football, it is essential. Do you also see bricks when you're on the pitch or is it different? It's different. I calculate the passing lines, the distances. I try to correct them too: 'Why does my teammate come two meters from me? Stay 30 meters away!' I`m the happiest person in the world on the pitch when I see that there are movements, because it increases the passing options. After taking the information, just before making my gesture, my brain sends me a kind of signal: 'It's now that you have to pass the ball.' It happens to me when all the spatiotemporal factors are in place. And usually, it's for decisive passes. Emery said that he wants his player to be smarter than him. How can you deal with a group of players who don't see the game the way you do? l will try to teach them my idea of football. Make sure to stimulate talent. Obviously, I will not ignore the physical aspect, which is necessary, but I mean that I do not want my defender to just spend his time defending. No, no. I want him to play, to go forward. Ask Mascherano if he has not learned to play football in Barcelona. He had to adapt. He was smart. Like Abidal and Umtiti. Umtiti is the best centre-back, isn't he? Why? Because he's doesn't spend his time just defending. He plays, he thinks, he goes forward, he anticipates. In Lyon, he recovered the ball, then was happy to only give it to the midfielder, who was doing his job. At Barca, you have to participate more, it facilitates the work of the midfielder. When he goes forward, it gives him better option to pass the ball. It also gives him space and time to think. What about Dembélé? He will need some time. Barca is like a final exam for a footballer. It is like Dembélé is passing a Master degree right now because not everyone can play for this club. Why? Because you have to know things three times more than elsewhere. Barca play on barely thirty meters of play. Dembélé has a lot of talent, he is very fast, but here, he is not going to have the boulevards he had at Dortmund or Rennes. He had more space, so more time there. What will he do then? He will have to learn to think faster, in a few thousandths of a second. This is where we will see if he has the mentality. He must say to himself: 'l am a Barça player. ' You have to be mentally strong, to have convictions. There are average players who spent fifteen years at Barca, because they had a character. And there are some excellent players who did not do anything because they couldn't handle pressure. At training, when you saw them, you would say to yourself: 'They will break everything. They’re going to be legends.' But no. As soon as they entered the pitch, their legs started shaking, they did not want the ball anymore. And you would wonder: 'Holy f*ck, what`s happening to them?' Is it the famous 'scenic fear' that Jorge Valdano talks about? That's it. Mental strength is what stabilizes the performance. That's what makes you stronger. When there is fire, Marcelo, Modric or Sergio Ramos do not hide. On the contrary, it's at this moment that they appear. What did Lucas Vazquéz do against PSG? He entered the pitch with the desire win. A missile. The guy even went to Kimpembe. And there you say to yourself: 'What is he doing? He's crazy or what?' No, he's just mentally strong. You played at Barcelona, which has a very specific game philosophy. But you also played with a lot of foreign players. Are there various forms of game intelligence in your opinion? It has nothing to do with the nationality but rather with the character of each player. Obviously, a Brazilian does not have the same vision of life as a German. Generally, they are rather playful. They relativize the problems better. When you see Marcelo, Alves or Neymar, you have the impression that they play in the street, without pressure.

What do you feel when you make a bad decision? l feel my heart coming out of my chest.

XAVI INTERVIEW BY JAVIER PRIETO SANTOS