God Of football

Chapter 234: A Nation Hold Its Breath

Izan pulled his jersey over his head, adjusting the sleeves as he took a deep breath.

Gaya, now fully in captain mode, stood in the center of the room, waiting for everyone to settle. ”We’ve worked too hard for this moment. Let’s finish what we started.”

Hugo Duro grinned. ”We bring this trophy back home, yeah?”

A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the squad.

Then, the stadium announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.

”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the 2024 Copa del Rey!”

Izan closed his eyes, took one last deep breath, and clenched his fists.

It was time.

...

The players now stood in the tunnel, waiting for the match officials to arrive.

As Izan adjusted his wrist tape, he felt a presence nearby. Looking up, he locked eyes with Iñaki Williams.

There was no hostility in the stare—just quiet intensity. The unspoken acknowledgment between two players who knew they were about to go to war.

Nico Williams stepped up beside his brother, his own gaze sharp and unwavering. ”You ready for this?” he asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Izan didn’t blink. ”Always.”

Iñaki finally gave a small nod, breaking the stare first. ”Then let’s give the fans what they came here for.”

Just then, the referee’s voice broke the moment. ”Alright, gentlemen. Let’s go.”

The teams lined up, the tunnel narrowing as they prepared to step out onto the pitch.

Outside, the roar of 57,000 fans awaited. The Copa del Rey trophy gleamed under the stadium lights, sitting on a podium at the edge of the field.

Izan clenched his fists.

No more talk. No more buildup. It was time.

.....

The Final Begins

The moment the referee signaled for the players to step onto the pitch, Estadio de La Cartuja erupted into a deafening noise.

The flares, the banners, the synchronized chants—everything blended into a breathtaking spectacle of football passion.

As the two teams walked out side by side, the commentators’ voices rose above the noise, setting the stage for what was about to unfold.

**”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the grand stage—the 2025 Copa del Rey final! A night of history, a night of destiny, and for these two clubs, a night of no return.

It’s Valencia versus Athletic Bilbao, two teams that have fought through adversity, through intense battles, and now stand just ninety minutes away from glory!”

The camera panned across the field, capturing the intense expressions on the players’ faces. Some had their eyes closed in deep concentration, others took quick glances at the roaring stands, absorbing the sheer energy of the moment.

”And let’s go through the starting lineups, beginning with Valencia, who have been a revelation this season under Rubén Baraja.”

Valencia Starting XI (4-3-3)

Goalkeeper: Giorgi Mamardashvili

Defenders: Thierry Correia, Mark, Cenk Özkacar, José Gayà (C)

Midfielders: Pietro, Javi Guerra, André Almeida

Forwards: Izan, Hugo Duro, Diego López

”No surprises in Valencia’s lineup. Baraja sticks with the attacking trio that has terrorized defenses all season—Izan, Hugo Duro, and Pietro.

And in midfield, Javi Guerra and Pepelu will look to provide the balance between creativity and control.”

The Valencia fans erupted when Izan’s name was announced over the stadium speakers.

The young star gave a small nod as the camera zoomed in on his determined face.

The commentary switched over as the camera cut to the opposing side.

”Now, onto Athletic Bilbao—led by their experienced manager, Ernesto Valverde, who has instilled a disciplined and aggressive playing style in this team.”

Athletic Bilbao Starting XI (4-2-3-1)

Goalkeeper: Unai Simón

Defenders: De Marcos, Yeray, Vivian, Yuri Berchiche

Midfielders: Dani García, Oihan Sancet, Mikel Vesga

Forwards: Nico Williams, Iker Muniain (C), Iñaki Williams

”This is a battle-tested Athletic side. Iñaki Williams leads the line, while his younger brother Nico provides the pace and flair from the left.

Watch out for Sancet—he’s the creative spark in midfield and can be dangerous in transition.”

As the players walked toward the center circle, the anthem of the Copa del Rey played through the stadium speakers.

The trophy sat glistening on a podium nearby—a reminder of what was at stake.

Izan glanced at Hugo Duro, who gave him a subtle nod. Then, he shifted his gaze toward Iñaki Williams, who was already waiting for the coin toss with the captains.

The tension was thick. The stage was set. The final was about to begin.

....

As the players reached the center circle, the referee, Juan Martínez Munuera, stood waiting with his two assistants. He held the match ball in one hand and the coin in the other.

The two captains stepped forward—José Gayà for Valencia and Iker Muniain for Athletic Bilbao—two experienced warriors leading their teams into battle.

The stadium noise dimmed slightly, the anticipation tightening.

”Alright, gentlemen,” the referee began, his voice steady. ”Standard procedure. Heads or tails?”

Muniain, calm and composed, called it. ”Tails.”

The referee flipped the coin high into the air. The entire stadium seemed to hold its breath.

It landed on the referee’s palm—heads.

Gayà gave a slight nod, already knowing what he wanted. ”We’ll attack toward our fans in the second half.”

Muniain exhaled but remained unfazed. ”No problem.”

The referee turned toward both captains. ”Alright, Valencia will choose the side, and Athletic Bilbao will kick off. Let’s have a clean game.”

The men shook hands before jogging back to their teams. The decision was made—Valencia would defend the goal closest to the Bilbao supporters in the first half, aiming to attack toward their own fans in the second.

As Gayà returned to the Valencia huddle, Baraja clapped his hands together on the touchline. ”Alright, boys. This is it.”

The players formed a tight circle, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

Gayà’s voice cut through the tension. ”We’ve fought too hard to let this slip. No regrets. We play with heart. With passion. We fight for each other.”

Izan felt the energy rising. He wouldn’t say he had dreamt of this moment, but here it was. Now, it was real.

On the other side, Muniain was delivering a similar message to his team. ”We’ve waited 40 years for this moment. We don’t let it pass. We play like lions.”

The teams took their positions. Iñaki Williams stood over the ball, his gaze locked in.

Behind him, Nico Williams and Muniain were poised, ready to break forward at the first opportunity.

Izan crouched slightly, his eyes narrowing. He knew exactly what Bilbao wanted—to control the pace early, to test Valencia’s defense.

”You ready, Max,” Izan said.

[As ready As you’ll ever be] the system sounded.

”Then let’s go win this,” Izan said, before looking ahead.

The referee blew his whistle.

Kickoff.

The Copa del Rey final had begun

....

In a cozy apartment in Valencia, a young boy named Leo sat glued to the television, his legs bouncing with excitement.

As soon as the referee blew the whistle, he grabbed the remote, increasing the volume as he called his parents, who were still in the kitchen.

”¡Papá! ¡Mamá! It started! Come quick!”

His father, still holding a bowl of popcorn, rushed into the living room, while his mother, balancing a tray of drinks and chips, followed closely behind.

”We’re coming, we’re coming!” his father laughed, setting the bowl down on the small table. His mother placed the drinks carefully before flopping onto the couch beside them.

The screen showed Iñaki Williams taking the first touches of the ball, pressing forward as Valencia’s defense quickly organized.

Leo’s eyes widened. ”Izan is going to score today. I know it!”

His father ruffled his hair. ”Let’s hope so, hijo. This could be a special night.”

....

In Bilbao, in a small bar just outside the city center, a group of lifelong Athletic Club supporters sat around a wooden table, their eyes locked onto the television.

An elderly man, wearing a scarf from the club’s last Copa del Rey final 40 years ago, clutched his glass of cider.

His grandson, barely ten years old, sat beside him, mimicking his grandfather’s intense stare at the screen.

”It’s time, abuelo,” the boy whispered.

The old man nodded. ”Yes, mijo. Maybe… just maybe, tonight is our night.”

.....

In Madrid, at a student apartment filled with football lovers, a mix of Valencia and Bilbao fans sat together, already arguing over tactics.

”If Bilbao sits too deep, they’re going to suffer,” one Valencia supporter said, munching on a sandwich.

”We don’t suffer. We endure,” a Bilbao fan shot back. ”And then we strike.”

The others laughed, but no one took their eyes off the screen.

All over Spain, in homes, in bars, in crowded squares with massive outdoor screens, people held their breath as the final unfolded.

In Valencia and Bilbao, the emotions ran deeper. This wasn’t just a match. This was a chance at history.

A/n: So, bonus chapter for the Golden tickets. Keep churning them out to keep me churning out those extra chapters. Have fun reading and I will see you tomorrow with the regular two chapters. Also check out my new book, Against the ropes. It’s about boxing.