The Joan Gamper Trophy wasn't just a preseason match; it was tradition, ceremony, and pride.
On August 10th, the Estadi Johan Cruyff was a sea of blaugrana flags, filled to the brim with tens of thousands of fans, all roaring in anticipation as Barcelona played Italian underdogs Como 1907, fresh off a fairytale rise to Serie A.
This was more than a friendly. It was a celebration of champions, a final dress rehearsal before the season began, and for many fans, their chance to see Samuel Moses live since he conquered Europe and the World Cup.
The starting XI for Barcelona was a statement from Hansi Flick as he fielded a strong lineup in his favored 4-2-3-1 formation.
Jose Garcia started again in between the posts, while the defensive quadruple ahead of him comprised Jules Kounde, Ronald Araujo, Pau Cubarsi, and the electric Alejandro Balde.
In center midfield was the duo of Frankie de Jong and Pedri, while Sam started further ahead in central attacking midfield.
Lamine Yamal started in right wing, Raphinha in left wing, while Lewandowski played through the middle as the striker.
The bench brimmed with youth: Noah Darvich, Hector Fort, and others who had impressed against Daegu.
Como, knowing who they faced, lined up compact in a 5-3-2, prepared to frustrate and foul if necessary.
FC Barcelona were the current Kings of Europe, literally every club in the world was wary of them, Como 1907 doubly so.
FWEEE!
The game finally started.
From the whistle, Sam immediately came under siege as Como's intent became clear: stop Sam Moses at all costs.
Two midfielders shadowed him wherever he moved, neither of them shy to get physical when needed just to throw him off his game.
A third defender swept in from behind every time he turned. Como played with energy, with a central game plan to neutralize Sam.
Within the first 15 minutes of the game, Sam had been clipped and shoved more times than most full games as Hansi Flick complained to the officials at the byline, pleading more protection to be given to his player.
But then, Barcelona adapted. After all, Barcelona was not Nigeria.
Nigeria was a unit of good players with a maverick like Sam. But FC Barcelona? It was a unit of great players with mavericks like Robert Lewandowski, Lamine Yamal, Raphinha, and the shifty Andres Pedri in midfield, like fans were beginning to call him these days.
The team responded as one to Cama's strategy.
Pedri began drawing markers wide, creating interior lanes. Raphinha inverted centrally, forcing Como's backline to split.
Lamine Yamal switched it on, stretching their formation with scintillating dribbles down the right hand side of the pitch, and the occasional mazy run through multiple players before his trademark curler to the top corner.
He was not successful yet, but Barcelona started knocking. Despite the pressure, Barcelona's flow built steadily.
In the 27th minute, Lewandowski's bullet header from a Balde cross forced Como's goalkeeper into a world-class save. Moments later, Raphinha rattled the post with a curling shot.
Still, Como's defensive wall held.
By halftime, somehow, Como were still holding on and the frustration buzzed around the stadium for FC Barcelona fans.
It was 0-0, and Barcelona couldn't break through.
On the sideline, Hansi Flick clapped calmly. "Trust the process," he told his players, his gaze lingering on Sam.
Sam nodded, knowing the second half was his to command.
And then…
FWEEE!
The second half started.
From the restart, Sam changed everything.
Instead of fighting Como's triple-marking head on, he dropped deeper, acting as a false pivot, linking with Pedri and Frankie de Jong to devastating effect to create a midfield overload.
In the 52nd minute, a back heel from Sam freed Kounde on the right, his cross finding Lewandowski who volleyed just wide.
Lewandowski grabbed and ruffled his hair in disbelief at his miss.
In the 58th minute, Sam executed a perfect Elastico, splitting two defenders before sliding a trivela pass to Lamine Yamal. The teenager's near-post strike forced another save from Como's alert goalkeeper.
The pressure mounted, and Como began cracking.
And finally, the breakthrough.
It happened in the 62nd minute of the game as Pedri intercepted a loose ball, feeding Sam in the half-space.
With a no-look flick, Sam bypassed three defenders, threading Lewandowski clean through on goal.
This time, the veteran Polish striker made no mistake, slotting low past the goalkeeper with ease, Lewandowski style.
1-0 Barcelona.
The Estadi Johan Cruyff erupted, fans chanting Sam's name like a hymn.
Barcelona was not satisfied with a 1-0 lead though. With the lead secured, Hansi Flick introduced Marc Casado, taking off Frankie de Jong and Robert Lewandowski.
The tempo didn't drop, it soared.
In the 78th minute, Sam danced past a sliding tackle, drew two defenders, then chipped a delicate lob to Raphinha inside the box.
Raphinha, brimming with confidence, volleyed the ball first time into the top corner, rousing the stadium.
2-0 Barcelona.
The celebration was pure joy, Sam and Raphinha celebrating shoulder to shoulder as the Estadi Johan Cruyff roared in approval.
And then, the final flourish 10 minutes later in the 88th minute.
Como threw numbers forward desperately, leaving space behind. Balde intercepted, sprinted down the left, and cut the ball back to Sam at the edge of the penalty area.
Instead of shooting, Sam calmly scooped the ball over a lunging defender and squared it to Ferran Torres who tapped into an empty net.
3-0 Barcelona, 3 assists for Sam.
FWEEE!
When the final whistle blew, fireworks lit the night sky.
The Joan Gamper Trophy glittered under stadium lights as Sam, captain's armband on his sleeve, hoisted it high to deafening cheers.
Reporters swarmed him post-match:
"Sam, how does it feel to lead Barca to another trophy?"
"Lead Barca?" Sam laughed. "Barca always win trophies". He emphasized.
But then, his eyes burned with quiet determination. "This isn't just about trophies though," he said. "This is about building something unstoppable. Watch out, we've only just begun". He grinned.
Beside him, Yamal, Marc Casado, and Balde stood smiling, proof that Barcelona's future was in fearless hands, guided by a footballing god.