The heads in the room swivelled upon the knock on the door. Alejandro got up to open the door.
"That must be my friend. Sergi, don't joke around too much, or I swear he'll hit you."
Sergi raised his hands in mock surrender. Balde brought back with him a short kid with messy brown hair and intimidating eyes.
"Guys, this is Gavi. He joined from Betis and plays in Infantil C with me now."
…
Gavi had settled in well, not the least bit bothered by the new company. Mostly, however, he would try to pick up a conversation with Jordi. Balde could only roll his eyes when he witnessed this.
"You have your first fan, Jordi. He watched you play the final and has been pestering me about you ever since. I told him it is weird to obsess over a guy only a year above him, but what can I do?"
"What the hell are you one about? Do you remember the last beating I gave you? We can fight again if you want."
Gavi was on his feet and ready to exchange blows. The boys stared at him wide-eyed. How could someone so small have so much aggression in him? Jordi, who it seemed was the only one who could tame the little monster, pulled Gavi back.
...
The recreational room had been rearranged to seat the 40-50 kids who were still around at La Masia. Most of them were 15 to 18-year-olds, with a few younger kids among them, including Jordi's group. The younger ones had the advantage of sitting right up front, getting a close-up view of Lionel Messi.
Jordi sat in the front row, Eric to his left and, to no one's surprise, Gavi to his right. His friends were predicting how it would go, a discussion Jordi found to be useless. He wished Estel were here to meet Messi as well. She would've been so happy. Unfortunately, she had gone with her mother to visit her sister in England. Jordi did not remember what her sister was exactly doing there, but he knew it was something to become a lawyer like Ignacio Soler.
...
Lionel Messi walked in unannounced behind Mister Alexanko. In a Barca shirt and shorts, he seemed like another member of the staff. Was he not aware of who he was?
It took a few moments for the kids to settle down. Messi waited patiently with a little smile, maybe recalling his own La Masia days. With the hall now silent, he began speaking in a hushed voice, his tone reminiscent of a guilty student answering to their teacher.
Leo talked about his La Masia days, his senior debut, and Barca's recent treble win. Jordi, during this monologue, was studying every cue and manner that his idol displayed. This was unlike the time he met Johan Cruyff, who was equally important to Jordi. Cruyff was a familiar sight to Jordi ever since his first dream. Messi, Messi was different. He was distant and high above, an inexplicable concept.
Soon, Messi's short speech was over, and the kids were allowed to ask questions. To the group's surprise, Gavi was chosen for the first question. Without a hint of hesitation, Gavi sprang up from his chair. He looked around, as if showing off to everyone that he got to ask the first question. When he looked back at Messi, his eyes shone, and his voice trembled.
"What is it like to play for Barca?"
Leo wore a fond smile as he took his time to come up with an answer. When he did respond, it sounded like he was shyer than Gavi was asking the question.
"Don't you know? You play for Barca as well. I am just older, so I play for the first team. All of you here, you all play for Barca, and you should be proud.
When it comes to the first team… it is almost the same. Same values, same identity, same pride.
I would say that there are a lot more people watching you, which is a change. So, you must make sure to represent Barcelona and Catalunya well. Everyone who watches us play and interacts with us outside the pitch should understand why Barca is more than a club."
The other kids asked some generic questions after. Jordi, however, was still reflecting on Leo Messi's answer to Gavi. He loved the answer.
When he would play for the first team, winning would not be enough. Jordi would make sure that his football would have an identity and would represent his Barca, his La Masia, and his Catalunya. Like Messi had told him. Like Uncle Ferran had taught him.
…
Mister Alexanko announced that the next question would be the last one. Leo scanned the crowd of hands, all fidgeting, some waving. He stopped at a still hand in the front. Messi had noticed this boy before. Not only did he have a striking appearance, but he had a veil of self-assured solitude around him. He was different from the rest. So, Messi pointed at Jordi.
"Uhm, Mister… Every game, you do something that does not make sense to me. I mean, you will carry the ball when a pass is a more efficient pass. Or, or… or you make a pass different from the pass that would've more likely led to an attack. I don't get it."
The kids were amused at the wasted question the famous 'Ombreta' of theirs had asked. Even Mister Alexanko and the staff did not quite understand what Jordi had asked, but not for a minute did they think the question was wasted. Mister Alexanko, more than anyone else, knew the genius of Jordi Lloret.
Leo Messi was taken aback by the young boy's question. He stared at Jordi for a good while because he got it. He knew exactly what the boy was talking about. It was just amazing to him that a 12-year-old kid could read the game better than most professionals.
"What is your name?"
"Jordi Lloret, sir."
"Ombreta," shouted Balde, eliciting a glare from Jordi. Balde ignored Jordi and continued, "We call him Ombreta because he moves like a shadow on the pitch."
The kids in the crowd chuckled, many murmured their agreements, while some gasped, hoping there was no trouble for Balde later.
"Ombreta, hunh?" Messi looked towards Jordi and chuckled.
"Jordi, I can tell that you read the game very well. Your question, I don't think I can put into simple words why some of my actions don't seem logical. And what I am about to say to you, I am sure you will only understand later in life.
On the field and in life, it is as important to feel as it is to think."