God Of football

Chapter 194: Second of Many.

As the celebrations began to settle, Izan stood at the center of the Mestalla pitch, still basking in the chants of his name echoing around the stadium.

The Valencia players formed a loose circle around him, clapping in unison as the stadium announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.

”Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s Man of the Match—and the scorer of a stunning hat-trick—IZAN!”

The crowd erupted once more, their chants growing even louder. Izan walked toward the podium set up on the sideline, his boots clicking softly against the grass as the crowd cheered.

His cheeks a bit flushed as he shook hands with the presenter, who handed him the gleaming Man of the Match trophy and the match ball, signed by the referee.

He looked at the trophy in his left hand, then down at the ball cradled in his right arm—the ball that marked the second hat-trick of his career.

”Hello, Izan,” the reporter said, looking at him. Izan nodded at the reporter signalling for her to go on.

”The last time you held a ball in an instance like this was against Atlético Madrid which marked your first career hat-trick.

Tonight, you earned your second, and it was against none other than Real Madrid. A team you scored two goals against the last time the two sides met.

Should we be expecting you to earn a lot more balls”

[Please not that balls]

The cameras zoomed in on his face as he raised the microphone to his lips.

”First of all,” he began, his voice steady despite the roar of the crowd, ”I want to thank everyone here tonight. The fans, my teammates, my coaches—you’ve made this moment unforgettable.”

The crowd cheered wildly, chanting his name again.

”And yes,” he held up the match ball, his voice softening, ”I don’t plan on stopping. When I get onto the pitch, I want to help my team win so if the chances come, I’ll take it.”

In the stands, Komi stood, a smile etched on her face, while Hori stood beside her. The cameras caught their reactions, and the image was displayed on the stadium screens, drawing another wave of cheers from the crowd.

Izan looked at his mother and sister but then turned back to the crowd, his expression thoughtful.

His eyes scanned the stands until they landed on a young boy sitting near the front row, wearing an oversized Valencia jersey with Izan’s name and number scribbled on the back in marker.

The boy’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open in disbelief as he realized Izan was looking right at him.

Izan walked over to the barrier, the ball in his hand. The boy’s father nudged him forward, and he cautiously stepped closer. Izan leaned over, offering the ball with a warm smile.

”This is for you, champ,” Izan said. ”Keep dreaming big.”

The boy hesitated for a moment before accepting the ball, his hands trembling. Tears filled his eyes as he clutched the ball to his chest, unable to speak.

The crowd erupted in cheers, chanting Izan’s name louder than ever.

”What a Good lad,” the commentator said, his voice filled with emotion. ”Izan has not only delivered a masterclass on the pitch but has shown the humility and heart of a true star.”

As Izan walked back toward his teammates, he glanced back at the boy, who was now hugging the ball tightly, tears streaming down his face.

The Mestalla roared one final time as the team made their way toward the tunnel, Izan leading the way.

After the dust of celebration had settled and the players retreated to the locker rooms, Izan was called to the post-match press conference by Baraja.

He had tried refusing, but Baraja didn’t take no for an answer. The media room was packed, buzzing with anticipation, as reporters from across the footballing world waited to hear from the young star who had just delivered one of the most remarkable performances in La Liga history.

Dressed in Valencia’s tracksuit, his hair still slightly damp from the post-match shower, Izan entered the room with a mix of confidence and humility.

The cameras flashed incessantly as he took his seat behind the microphone, the Man of the Match trophy.

He glanced at them briefly before offering a shy smile to the crowd of journalists.

The moderator began, ”Let’s open the floor for questions.”

The first journalist stood up, a grin on his face. ”Izan, congratulations on an unforgettable performance.

At just 16, you’ve already accomplished what many players dream of their entire careers. How do you feel right now?”

Izan chuckled lightly, his hands resting on the edge of the table. ”Thank you. Honestly, it feels surreal.

To score a second hat-trick and help the team win against a club like Real Madrid... it’s a dream come true.

But more than anything, I’m just happy we got the three points. That’s what matters most.”

The room buzzed with murmurs of admiration. Another journalist leaned forward. ”You dedicated your performance to your family during the post-match presentation. Can you tell us more about that?”

Izan nodded, his expression softening. ”My mom and sister, Komi and Hori, are everything to me.

They’ve sacrificed so much to support my dreams. Tonight, I wanted to show them how much that means to me. They’ve been my rock, and I wouldn’t be here without them.”

The room fell silent for a moment as the reporters absorbed his heartfelt words. Then, a foreign journalist spoke up. ”One final question, Izan. You gave the match ball to a young fan in the stands. What inspired you to do that?”

Izan smiled warmly. ”I saw him during the game, cheering so passionately. He reminded me of myself when I used to watch matches with my family.

I know how much it would have meant to me back then, so I wanted to give him something to remember.

Football isn’t just about what happens on the pitch—it’s about inspiring the next generation.”

The room erupted into applause, a rare gesture for a press conference. Izan, slightly embarrassed, rubbed the back of his neck but couldn’t hide his grin.

The moderator leaned in, signaling the end. ”That’s all for now. Thank you, Izan, and congratulations again.”

As Izan left the stage, flashes from cameras followed him, and reporters murmured about the humility and maturity of the young star.

...

The bus carrying the Valencia squad rumbled down the streets of the city, the players still buzzing with excitement after their thrilling 3-2 victory over Real Madrid.

The sky was dark, but the streets of Valencia seemed alive as if the city itself was celebrating the team’s remarkable performance.

Fans lined the streets, waving scarves and chanting the names of their heroes. Despite the long, tiring match, there was an unmistakable energy in the air.

As the bus approached Paterna, the training ground where Valencia’s facilities were located, the mood inside was one of camaraderie and relief.

The players were exhausted, but their faces were all smiles. Some cracked jokes, while others simply sat back, savoring the thrill of the win.

The bus made its way past familiar landmarks, and as they neared Paterna, the players began to wind down, chatting amongst themselves.

Izan gazed out the window, the thought of what would happen if he won a major trophy seeping through to his mind.

When the bus finally pulled into Paterna, the players began to file out, heading straight for the locker room to grab their belongings before making their way home.

Izan grabbed his bag and walked out of the building, the night air cool against his skin. He glanced around, his mind still racing with the memories of the match.

Waiting for him outside, just as they had every time after a home game, were Komi and Hori. They stood together near the entrance, their eyes scanning the players as they emerged.

The moment they spotted Izan, both women broke into huge smiles.

”Izan! You were incredible! That goal—was just... wow!” Hori squealed as she ran up to him, throwing her hands around trying to describe the goal.

Izan laughed, hugging his sister tightly. ”It was a good one, huh?” he said, his voice laced with modesty.

Komi stepped forward, pride in her eyes. ”Lets go home” she said with Izan nodding to her words.

With the night winding down, the trio made their way to Komi’s car, the warm, familiar comfort of home on the horizon.

The city outside was still alive with celebration, but for Izan, the only thing that mattered now was the journey ahead with his family.

As they drove through the streets, the car filled with easy chatter. Hori, still high from the match, recounted every moment of Izan’s performance, while Komi asked about his thoughts during the game.

As they pulled into their driveway, the weight of the evening began to settle in. Izan had helped Valencia secure a monumental victory.

He had scored a hat-trick, including the decisive goal in the dying moments of the match. But, more than that, he had made his family proud.

They were his foundation, the ones who had always supported him, and tonight was as much their victory as it was his.

After a quiet dinner at home, they sat together on the couch, the sound of the game replaying on the television in the background.

Komi rested her head on Izan’s shoulder, and Hori curled up beside them, her energy finally waning.

The trio shared a quiet moment, a rare moment of peace after a whirlwind day.

”What a day,” Izan muttered, his eyelids heavy.

Komi smiled, rubbing his arm. ”The best day,” she replied softly. As the night grew deeper, Izan finally allowed himself to relax, the weight of the world lifted by the love and pride of the family that had been with him every step of the way.

[Sweet home Alabama. Naa jk]