Chapter 407 - 116: Rising Influence! Pressure on Messi and Ronaldo! A Fiery Christmas! Second Captain + Number 7!
Chapter 407 - 116: Rising Influence! Pressure on Messi and Ronaldo! A Fiery Christmas! Second Captain + Number 7!
"I want to strive to increase this number by the end of the season, aiming for 300."
"Then you have to aim for the league championship." Mendes raised his glass of red wine and clinked it with Ma’el’s yogurt cup, "I believe in you, keep it up."
...
The next day, Ma’el returned to London. He first went to the bank to check his savings and discovered they had reached ’4631233.31,’ which gave him immense security.
Next, he placed the Golden Boy Award trophy in the honor room at home and took commemorative photos with his team of four in the villa.
"For the trophy replica, let’s find the person who made the honor cabinet; I know Cristiano had his done there too."
After the group photo, Davis held the Golden Boy Award trophy, appearing quite reluctant to let go, saying, "It’s absolutely trustworthy, and the price won’t be too high. There’s not much manual work involved."
"Okay."
Ma’el agreed, feeling excited about the prospect of this honor room being replicated in North London.
By then, whether it’s Arsenal fans in London or French fans coming over, they would surely regard it as a must-visit spot to admire his achievements over the past two years.
This feeling is nice. Apart from the distant hometown, Arsenal Club and France are now also Ma’el’s home.
Xiang Yu once said, ’To be wealthy and not return home is like wearing splendid clothes at night.’ Having obtained these honors, if they are kept hidden at home and not exhibited outside, so that the people back home don’t experience this glory, it would be quite a shame.
"It’s my turn."
Jose saw Davis holding onto the trophy continuously and went forward to snatch it, "Give it, give it."
Safina and Harry also gathered around, curious about the exquisitely designed trophy, waiting to hold it in their hands and play with it.
A group of middle-aged people in their thirties and forties, at this moment, seemed like children, fighting over this ’toy’ full of honor.
Ma’el ignored them and glanced at the schedule stuck to the side.
The first half of the season only had the last two matches left, one against Wolves on Boxing Day and one at the end of the month against Sheffield United.
They’re both quite important... The Boxing Day match is a given, but the game against Sheffield United has a bit of the ’returning home in wealth’ sentiment.
Ma’el spent a whole year there, completed his debut season, and won his first championship trophy, so he certainly holds affection for that club, and the people there for him.
Why wouldn’t it be considered home?
Life is indeed fascinating; last season returning to the Korni Base from Sheffield United counted as returning home wealthily, and this season going back to Sheffield United is also returning home wealthily.
The only ongoing change is Ma’el himself; he continues to climb higher steps, higher peaks.
And the one constant is also him; he has never stopped moving forward.
....
That afternoon, in Barcelona, Spain, a King’s Cup round of 16 match ended.
Barcelona, playing at home, used a rotated lineup to crush the Second Division B team Ospitallet nine to zero, with several players scoring twice.
Fabregas started in this match, but he didn’t feel like a substitute player, rather he felt Guardiola was helping him find his form.
What frustrated him was that while midfield players like Thiago, Cuenca, and Tello, all scored twice, he himself didn’t score at all, managing only one assist.
In the post-match locker room, he changed his gear with a sullen face and threw his shin guards into the trash can next to him.
Pique and others saw his demeanor and guessed why he was upset, approached him to console, "It’s just one match, it doesn’t prove anything.
"You’ve almost reached a double-double this season; what is there to be dissatisfied with? There’s no need to compare with others."
"There really isn’t."
Fabregas responded, considering he had once been a Golden Boy, he felt a bit more balanced, "I’m a midfield player, performing like this is quite good."
But remembering his stats during his Golden Boy year and comparing them with Ma’el’s, he couldn’t help but feel frustrated again, causing anxiety over current conditions, continually frowning.
Messi and Iniesta, sitting in casual clothes on the other side, heard the conversation, subtly making Ma’el their imaginary rival, and turned their focus to him.
"18 years old."
Iniesta recalled his time at 18, back then he had just joined the first team, the Galaxy Battleship was only in its first phase, and Ronaldinho had just arrived in Barcelona.
With an innocent face, unable to secure a regular position, a single goal or assist would make him happy for a week... that was his memory of being 18.
But looking at Ma’el, considering his performance, dominance in the Premier League at 18, his exuberance when winning the Golden Boy Award, it seemed as though they were not in the same dimension, like he was an alien.
The problem is, as a distinguished representative of La Masia’s youth training, he had always been regarded as a genius too.
The Habib combo known worldwide, even a talented player like Fabregas could only serve as backup and couldn’t shake their position.
Why would he feel a strong sense of inferiority from a rookie?
Iniesta could only shift his gaze to Messi, the player he admired for possessing historically great talent.
As a teammate, he doesn’t feel inadequate compared to Messi, only admiration. Therefore, if Messi can surpass Ma’el, he would feel somewhat balanced, with a touch of glory.
But this time Iniesta hesitated; he had gone through Messi’s 18 years, those were times when Messi was expected to do well, yet he was completely different from now.
Phi-Fic