Maël greeted others along the way, only noticing who was sitting next to him after reaching his seat.
The enthusiastic atmosphere made it hard to concentrate; he was using every bit of focus he had to experience his first Ballon d'Or ceremony. Everything else was beyond him.
"Hello."
As he sat down, Neymar, sporting a golden pompadour, smiled and extended his hand. "I saw that goal you were nominated for. Losing to you or Rooney wouldn't upset me."
"Haha..." Maël knew he was talking about the Puskas Award. He shook Neymar's hand and nodded. "Losing to either of you wouldn't upset me either."
At this time, Neymar was more of a playboy than he would later become. He was full of youthful vigor and sat here with anticipation, unaware of the future that awaited him after today.
Looking at him, Maël couldn't help but think of himself. An inappropriate thought crossed his mind: Neymar is so dazzling, I wonder what kind of impression I give people now.
A smile grew on his face. It wasn't narcissism; sometimes people need comparison to get feedback.
"Maël."
A voice came from behind. Someone sitting behind him called out, "Do you recognize me?"
Maël turned to see a familiar face, aged but still recognizable: Robert Baggio, the 1993 Ballon d'Or winner, the Italian "Melancholy Prince" (melancholy prince).
"Of course, I recognize you." His expression shifted, and he leaned forward to shake Baggio's hand, politely saying, "What are you doing sitting here? You should be on stage as a presenter."
Baggio leaned back and laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the compliment. He smiled at Maël and said, "Because I wanted to sit with this year's Mr. Golden Boy."
They both laughed. After a brief hug, they heard the music change suddenly, and the lights began to flash intensely.
"Clang clang... de-de-de!"
"Bang bang... bang!"
Under the intense symphony, the spotlights on the roof began to randomly shine, sometimes on Messi, sometimes on Xavi, and sometimes on Rooney and others, each time eliciting a round of applause.
"Bang!"
After the excitement, all the spotlights suddenly turned to the center of the stage! There, a door glowing with golden light slowly opened, and the two opening guests of this year's awards ceremony walked out and stood before the podium.
The awards ceremony was about to begin!
The annual event had begun, and the most prestigious trophies in the football world would be awarded here!
"Clap clap clap!"
Loud applause erupted. Maël clapped his hands and craned his neck to see the two opening guests. He recognized one of them: the Dutch legend, Gullit.
He didn't recognize the other woman, assuming she was a movie star or someone from another field.
"Good evening!"
Gullit, with his hair cut short, stood before the podium and began his opening speech in a serious manner.
...
London, Colney Training Base.
The First Team meeting center was packed. Not only were the First Team players there, but also Hans and all the members of his U19 youth team.
"Van Persie!"
"Koscielny!"
"Let's take a photo!"
It was very noisy. The U19 players were all gathered around the First Team members, asking for photos and autographs. Opportunities to get this close to First Team stars were rare.
The First Team stars didn't refuse them. They needed to be patient with the youth team kids.
"Keep it up."
Van Persie signed autographs while patting their heads, encouraging them. "You guys are in the same batch as Maël. He's already at the Ballon d'Or ceremony. Even we had to team up to watch it, haha. Strive to be like him. 19 is a crucial year. You might often hear discouraging words, but don't give up."
"In football, there are not only geniuses like Maël, but also late bloomers like Klose."
He patted the head of a U19 player one last time and went to sit down.
Because Maël was nominated for the Ballon d'Or, Wenger organized all the First Team members to watch the ceremony. He also brought along the U19 kids, possibly to improve team cohesion.
Or maybe he just liked Maël too much as a player and wanted everyone to witness his important moment together.
After Van Persie sat down, Alexandre Song, who was next to him, leaned over and joked, "You and Maël are on the same team. He's already standing on..."
"F*ck!" He waved his hand with a wry smile, interrupting Alexandre Song's incantation, "Wait for my performance in the 2012 European Cup, and I'll definitely be there by the end of next year.
"Actually, I should have been there this year too. If there was one more candidate, it would definitely be me. Maël's stats aren't that much higher than mine."
Such discussions were happening in many places within the meeting room, not only between First Team members but also between First Team members and U19 team members.
"Arteta."
A bold U19 player sat in the empty seat next to Arteta and asked a curious question with some nervousness, "What kind of player is Maël in the team now? Does he have a lot of say?"
Arteta glanced at the person, smiled, and said, "Are you worried that he's young and doesn't have much say even as the second captain?"
The player was a little embarrassed but nodded in the end.
"Haha..." Arteta showed his teeth and shook his head, "No, I'm 11 years older than Maël, but I'm completely convinced by him.
"As long as your skills are good, age doesn't matter... And Maël is the kind of person with a high football IQ. He's not as brutal as he seems in highlight reels. He uses his brain, he's very smart, so everyone admires him."
The U19 player nodded slightly and turned to look at the screen in front of the meeting room, feeling extremely envious of Maël.
...
Sheffield City, Sheffield United Conference Center, a group of people also gathered here to watch the awards ceremony.
Although the scale was not as large as Arsenal's, Maël's former coaches and teammates had all come. Naturally, they also wanted to witness Maël's important moment.
Although the goal that got Maël into the candidate list was scored against Sheffield United... the game was already over, and Maël had apologized after the game. They had all let it go long ago.
Today, they represented themselves, in their individual capacities, to watch this awards ceremony and look forward to Maël winning the award! "What's being awarded first?"
Gilbert looked around, anxiously asking, "Is it the Puskas Award?"
"Don't know." Joelson, next to him, shook his head, "The rhythm and order of each awards ceremony are different. No one can say for sure what will be awarded first.
"Just watch, anyway, it's only forty or fifty minutes, and the results will be out soon."
Next to them, Janu Hans poked Evans' arm, looking at the screen with a smile, seemingly wanting to ask Evans what he thought of this moment.
Evans looked at him in confusion, not understanding, "What?"
"What are your thoughts?" Janu Hans asked with a helpless pout.
"What thoughts?" Evans smiled, glanced at the screen, and said, "I'm not Maël, and I didn't attend the ceremony, what thoughts could I have?"
"I mean, a former teammate is standing on this stage." Janu Hans was even more helpless, he wanted to strangle Evans.
"That."
Evans thought for a while, his expression becoming serious, "It just feels too fast, it's only been a little over half a year, and he's already gotten there.
"Remember? When he first came, he couldn't even get into the starting lineup."
"Haha..." Janu Hans laughed when he remembered this, "You're right, Kevin didn't use him at the time, and he didn't have a clear advantage over left winger Mark Yates."
He also turned his gaze to the screen, thinking about Maël's past, his eyes filled with very complex emotions, including happiness for his good brother, as well as envy, shock, and emotion.
He was very clear that even though they were both Premier League players now... the gap between them and this former teammate must be greater than the gap between EFL Championship players and Premier League players.
A true world of difference! In the front row, unnoticed by everyone, Gareth Speed took a bottle of wine today and drank it alone. In the dim light, his limbs trembled from time to time, indicating that his excitement had overflowed.
...
London, in a suit shop.
Isabella and her best friend sat on the sofa, watching the broadcast on TV, their eyes also full of anticipation.
"Speaking of which."
Her friend turned her face, smiling meaningfully, "Maël is perfect in every way. Don't just think about yourself, if you have the chance, introduce me to a similar player.
"Football players must have a lot of energy, and they also have wealth and fame. Dating them must be a great experience."
"Don't even think about it, Aisha."
Isabella looked at the awards ceremony, the corners of her mouth raised, "There's only one player like him."
"Yo yo." Aisha pouted sarcastically and took out her phone, "Then you watch it alone."
After looking at her phone for a while, she put it down again and asked curiously, "So, what stage are you two at now? Are you officially together?"
"Who told you that we're going to be dating?" Isabella asked back, raising her head, seemingly unwilling to answer this question.
"That's a no." Aisha shook her head, returning to her phone, and reminded him, "I advise you to hurry, remember when you first mentioned him to me, he was still in your dad's team.
"He was at Arsenal a while ago, and now, he's directly at the awards ceremony.
"If he continues to develop at this rate, he will definitely have the kind of international influence that Beckham had back then."
At the Zurich Conference Center in Switzerland, Gullit's opening speech had ended.
"Clap clap clap"
Maël clapped along with the crowd, his excitement still lingering, everything was new to him.
He also secretly vowed in his heart that he would put on a better performance in the new year and strive to win some meaningful championships, so that he could continue to sit here next year!
And launch an attack on more honors, so that his seat is more forward, and all kinds of rankings are also more forward! "Next, we will introduce the three candidates for the Puskas Award, please look at the big screen."
The host Gullit then pointed to the screen, where Rooney's name appeared, and his bicycle kick goal highlights began to play.
Maël's heart was suddenly stirred up, both nervous and expectant, staring intently at the screen.
Could it be that the Puskas Award will be presented first at this year's awards ceremony? "Rooney!" On the TV, Rooney performed a stylish bicycle kick, and after completing the goal, he excitedly rushed to the sidelines and leaned back, spreading his arms as if to embrace the entire stadium.
After this goal, Neymar's goal in Santos, where he dribbled past several people, also appeared on the screen. The Neymar in the lens seemed to be possessed by an elf, breaking through two people in a row and cooperating with his teammates.
Finally, he used a juggling double pull to shake off the opponent's center-back, entered the penalty area and scored with the outside of his foot!
It was equally brilliant! After the broadcast, Maël's violin celebration finally appeared on the screen, showing elegance and handsomeness, which attracted many people to look at him.
Maël was immediately a little embarrassed, his cheeks were slightly red, and he held back the smile on his lips.
Watching his own goal with so many football superstars and coaches, it's hard not to feel a little shy.
As he continued to accelerate and change direction in the lens, he arrived in the penalty area in the blink of an eye, and then finished with a shot aimed to the right but hitting the left!
The English commentator's breathless commentary then sounded, played around the Zurich Conference Center: "Incredible long-distance goal!
"Wow! Amazing! Wonderfulwonderfuland wonderful!!!"
Maël nodded slightly, he noticed that more people were looking at him, but this slight shyness did not affect the radiance on his face.
"Clap clap clap!" Applause rang out, everyone in the entire Zurich Center clapped their hands, sending applause for these three goals.
Maël glanced to the side, Neymar's reaction was more intense than his, the other party couldn't stop trembling.
He quickly turned his attention to the front again, waiting for Gullit to say the final winner.
As a result, the other party suddenly changed the subject and started talking about other things, "Let's take a look at the final candidates for this year's men's Ballon d'Or, there are three in total.
"Since one person was unable to attend this awards ceremony, we can only use a photo to replace his perspective."
Gullit waved his hand, and the screen played Cristiano Ronaldo's goal highlights, followed by Xavi's and Messi's.
They are the three final candidates for this year's FIFA Ballon d'Or, and the rankings of other people may be slightly behind.
Maël was stunned, so it was just a formality, he changed his sitting position and settled down, waiting for the final award ceremony with a calm mind.
"..."
After a long series of highlights, Gullit finally invited the first award presenter, the King of Football, Pelé.
"Clap clap clap!" He took the stage amidst applause, bowed slightly and said: "This is not only a festival for some people, but also a festival for the big family of football.
"Next, let me announce the FIFA Best 11 of 2011!"
He picked up a card and started reading directly, "Goalkeeper position, Casillas! Spain!"
Because he started too fast, the broadcasting staff behind him didn't react, paused for a moment before following up with Casillas' highlights.
"Alves, Brazil! Pique, Spain! Ramos, Spain! Vidić, Serbia!"
As one name after another was read out, one highlight after another began to play, and everyone below watched the screen with excitement.
Maël was the same, but he knew that with his performance and accumulated honors this year, it was unlikely that he would be able to enter the Best Lineup of the Year.
The competition for the forward position is very fierce, especially the left-wing position where he is located. The Portuguese superstar Cristiano Ronaldo is an insurmountable gap for him now.
He can only strive to achieve better results than him, or similar results, before FIFA will consider whether to let him replace Cristiano Ronaldo, or arrange him in the center forward position.
"Iniesta, Spain! Alonso, Spain! Xavi, Spain!"
The names of the three best midfielders were then announced, all of them stars from Real Madrid and Barcelona, and all of them Spanish.
Of the eight players in the middle and backfield, Spanish players accounted for six, demonstrating the dominance of La Liga and the Spanish national team in world football during this period!
"Lionel Messi, Argentina! Wayne Rooney, England! Cristiano Ronaldo, Portugal!"
With the final three names announced, all the players in the FIFA Best 11 of 2011 were revealed, including five from Barcelona, four from Real Madrid, and two from Manchester United.
"Clap clap clap!"
Applause rang out again, as was customary at the awards ceremony. Players who didn't win major awards didn't need to be discouraged; at least they could look forward to having a pair of numb hands by the end of the night.
"Buzz buzz buzz!" Music followed, and all the winning players went on stage to receive commemorative trophies.
Maël looked at them, his eyes filled with envy. He didn't often envy others, but it didn't matter. He was young and had plenty of potential.
Let's set a goal. Next year, I'll make it into the FIFA Best 11 and become the best player in my position!
Next, FIFA President Blatter went up and said a lot of nonsense, then shamelessly presented the 'FIFA Presidential Award,' which he had created himself, to Ferguson.
He was riding high at the moment, before the later corruption scandal and being showered with money by a comedian.
Maël looked at him, as if he could already see that classic photo from the football world. However, he didn't show anything on his face. This old man would be in that position for a few more years.
He continued to wait, waiting for the Puskas Award, the only award he had a chance of winning.
Being nominated for this award at the age of 18 was a great honor for him. If he could win, he didn't know how happy he would be.
"The Women's Coach of the Year is Norio Sasaki! He led the Japanese women's team to a miraculous World Cup victory last year!"
"Clap clap clap!"
"The Men's Coach of the Year is Guardiola! He led Barcelona to win five titles last year!"
"Clap clap clap!"
The pace of the awards ceremony picked up after that. It wasn't until Guardiola went on stage to accept his award that Maël perked up and looked at the center of the stage.
He admired this coach. His coaching philosophy and achievements made him the deserved best at the moment.
He thought of his own coach, Wenger. He had thought that Wenger would attend the awards ceremony with him, but Wenger had declined the invitation, reportedly due to a strained relationship with FIFA President Blatter.
I wonder when Mr. Wenger will be able to stand there and receive a Coach of the Year award. He smiled. It was a beautiful expectation. A good result, the best title, required everyone's efforts.
"Wonderful, wonderful, and wonderful!!!"
After the Coach of the Year award was presented, the three Puskas Award-nominated goals were replayed on the big screen.
This must be it.
Maël sat up straight. Neymar, next to him, began to tremble, and Rooney, in the distance, looked nervous.
"Next, we will present the 2011 FIFA Puskas Award, the award for the best goal of the year!"
The female host next to Gullit smiled and pointed behind her. "The presenter is the greatest player in Mexican history, Sánchez! He scored 47 European goals in 45 European matches for his club!"
Amidst applause, Sánchez greeted the audience and came to the stage, immediately speaking in Spanish.
Maël was naturally confused, but his nervousness grew. He knew the moment of truth was approaching.
Whether he would win the Puskas Award and add another trophy to his trophy room depended on whether Sánchez would call out his name.
If he succeeded, it would be his second major award this season. If he could win one or two more championships at the end, his debut in the top league would be perfect.
He would take the Golden Boy Award and the Puskas Award, as well as championship trophies, to challenge the European Cup, the intercontinental competition in 2012!
If he succeeded, he could conservatively enter the top three in the Ballon d'Or awards ceremony next year!
"Swish!" Soon, the screen behind Santos changed.
It no longer showed only him, but placed him at the top center, with the real-time reactions of the three nominees below.
Maël was on the far left, and he could see Neymar, who was so nervous he couldn't breathe, and Rooney, who looked serious.
"The winner of the 2011 Puskas Award, the best goal of the year, is..."
Sánchez switched to English for this sentence, his face becoming excited. "Maël!"
I won! As the words fell, Maël opened his mouth slightly, his whole body enveloped in joy and happiness.
He subconsciously glanced over, seeing Neymar on the screen forcing a smile, then politely smiling and turning his head. Rooney, on the other hand, still had a plain, serious expression, but one could sense that he must be gritting his teeth.
The second biggest award of the year!
Here it comes!
"Clap clap clap!" Warm applause echoed in the Zurich Convention Center, as everyone clapped their hands.
Maël stood up, returning to the real world. The first thing he saw was Neymar beside him, ready to embrace him.
"Congratulations, brother." Neymar's smile inevitably held a hint of awkwardness, but he still enthusiastically offered his congratulations. "Well deserved, that goal was unbelievable!"
"Thank you!"
Maël thanked him a few times, and seeing several unfamiliar men and women reaching out to him, he gave them all high-fives.
He bypassed Neymar, walked past several coaches, and stepped down the stairs one by one, onto the center of the hall, his mind blank.
Even after reaching the podium and shaking hands with Santos, he hadn't yet come back to his senses. The extreme joy diluted much of his initial nervousness.
He walked to Gullit and the female host, shaking hands with them one by one, and then accepted the Puskas Award trophy from Santos.
After receiving it, he lowered his head to examine it, discovering that it was a well-crafted crystal trophy, composed of two pieces of crystal.
One piece was laid flat, with a line of words written on it: ——"In 2011, the Puskas Award winner, Maël!"
The other piece was cut diagonally towards the flat piece, with a soccer ball pattern on it.
He unconsciously walked to the microphone, looking at the super giants, coaches, agents, socialites, and other figures below. He put aside his thoughts of messing around and chose a more cautious acceptance speech.
"Thank you! As a striker, the Puskas Award is of great significance to me.
"This is the best summary of my 40+ goals in the second-tier league and 20+ goals in the top league last year, and it will be a great encouragement to me.
"I once said that I want to win all the awards in football. After winning the Golden Boy Award and then the Puskas, there are almost no other special awards, right?
"Now, there is only one path in front of me, and that is to keep moving forward, using more stable and better performances to become the best! Finally, thank you all, and I hope that when everyone meets here again next year, everyone will have different feelings!"
He raised the trophy high, bowed slightly to everyone in a burst of spotlights, his demeanor very elegant.
"Clap clap clap!" Another round of applause rang out, even more intense than the last.
Maël, bathed in everyone's gaze and applause, retreated, walking towards his seat. His award also sparked a lot of discussion among the people present.
"He is very ambitious." In the front row, Blatter said to Shakira, the guest beside him, "Is he?"
"It's obvious."
Shakira, wearing a hot red jumpsuit today, kept her eyes on Maël's back, briefly lost in thought, "And he is not only very capable, but also very charming."
"Haha." Blatter laughed twice, unable to resist teasing, "Compared to Pique?"
Shakira also laughed, still staring at Maël, without turning her head.
This action was quickly noticed by Pique, and a few hints of jealousy appeared in Pique's eyes, his brow furrowing tightly.
"Who do you think should have won the award?"
On the other side, Iniesta was also chatting with Xavi, "I think there's really nothing to say about this goal winning."
"That's right." Xavi nodded, clapping his hands while turning sideways, "He said he wants to win all the awards, is that the Grand Slam, or including individual awards?"
"It should be all."
Iniesta smiled, analyzing, "Didn't he say that he has already won two special awards? What he means by special, I guess, is one with age restrictions and one with various luck factors.
"Excluding these two awards, the remaining awards, as long as the strength is strong enough, can be strived for at any time."
Xavi also laughed loudly, his clapping not stopping, "It seems he has seriously thought about this issue, but that's too difficult, there are all kinds of strange awards, how can he win them all?"
Iniesta shook his head, pursing his lips, "If that day comes, I might also congratulate him with a cane."
Beside them, Rooney and Ferguson sat together, the expressions of the master and disciple both slightly unsightly.
"I think it was yours." Ferguson saw that the camera wasn't on this side, patted Rooney on the shoulder to comfort him, "Try again next year."
As soon as he finished speaking, he heard Mendes' voice from the back row, "Oh ho! Finally, there's some gain, this award must be given to him! I'm really happy for him, I'll call Puma later and ask if they'll give an extra bonus.
"Haha... The Puskas Award has been established for 3 years, and my players have won 2!"
He seemed to have had a bit of alcohol, excitedly showing off to the person next to him, completely forgetting who was sitting in front.
London, inside a suit shop.
".Puskas Award is!"
Isabella and Aisha, arm in arm, watched Maël's dashing face on the screen, nervously squeezing each other's hands tighter and tighter, not even reacting when their fingernails dug into each other.
They were waiting for the final announcement, each with different expectations.
Needless to say for Isabella, as long as Maël was happy, she would be happy too.
As for Aisha, she was definitely hoping that someone would wear a suit made by her shop to stand on an important award stage.
Before this, she actually didn't know that the person her sister always mentioned really had a chance to win an award; Isabella only told her halfway through the ceremony.
Aisha had just complained to Isabella that she should have told her earlier, as this shop was a family business.
If her family knew that someone who might be at the center of the award ceremony wanted to have a suit made, they would definitely be happy to mobilize the entire family to make a formal suit for him, and be proud of it.
But it was good as it was now; if Maël could win the award, she could take all the credit and leave a commemorative mark on the wall of the shop.
"Maël!"
Sánchez on the television said Maël's name with a smile, and Maël, in the lower-left corner of the screen, immediately smiled and stood up.
"Ah!"
A sharp cry rang out from here, as the two of them completely disregarded their image, jumping up and down, screaming and clapping.
Maël, in the broadcast camera, had already stood up and was heading to the center of the stage. This time, his posture was much more natural, fully demonstrating his handsome demeanor.
"Maël!"
Isabella's emotions reached their peak, and she kept jumping excitedly, just like when she celebrated his goals before, "So handsome!"
"Isabella!" Aisha came over at this moment, with an excited and serious look, grabbing her hand, "When he comes back, you must bring him to see me, I want to take a photo with him!
"I want to hang that photo in the center of the shop, so that everyone knows that a football star wore my family's clothes to the awards stage.
"I can even pay him some advertising fees, you must help me contact him!"
"Heh." Isabella raised her chin, jokingly saying to her good friend, "Last time when I went to your house, didn't you have morning grumps, dragging your feet and not wanting to do it? Acting like a big shot?"
"Oh." Aisha stood bashfully beside her, shaking her hand, "Just help me, it's also helping you once."
"Alright, alright."
Isabella slightly parted her thin lips, smiling sweetly, "I'll tell him, and see if he agrees."
".Maël!"
Sheffield United training base, in the conference room, Sánchez in the broadcast camera announced the best goal of this year's Puskas Award.
"Oh!"
Joelson and Gilbert instantly stood up, holding each other's hands, like athletes in a team event stepping onto the Olympic podium.
The two of them then turned to each other, hugging tightly, patting each other's backs.
As people who left Colney Base in the same car, their relationship, their relationship with Maël, was naturally different from others.
"I knew he could do it!"
Gilbert was very excited, almost knocking Joelson down, "It would be great if that goal was scored against another team, we could celebrate even more wantonly."
"Isn't it wanton enough now?" Joelson broke away from him, laughing, "Seeing him experience such an important moment, how could we remember that this goal was scored against Sheffield United."
He could be said to be the most emotional one. When he saw Maël in the youth training camp, this player only had a Long Shot. He used all his courage to sign him to Sheffield United.
He didn't expect to facilitate a successful signing, and he didn't expect that the other party would become a top player in just over a year.
"Haha.!"
Behind them, Janu Hans and Evans also stood up, as well as Lotton and Robert who came here today, all stood up and applauded, with excitement on their faces.
"Great!"
Evans wasn't slow this time, and was the first to say, "He's the first person I've come into contact with who has won a major award, and he's probably the only one!"
"Me too." Janu Hans nodded, putting his arm around Lotton next to him, "What about you?"
"Does it even need to be said?" Lotton smiled, describing the current situation of several of them, "For players of our level, the only chance to get to know future superstars who will win major honors is during their early years.
"Over the years, how many of the young players we've encountered can be called geniuses? So he's most likely the only one."
In front of them, Gareth Speed's trembling intensified, feeling like he was shivering in extremely cold weather.
But everyone understood that, just like before, it was a natural physical reaction to extreme excitement.
"Glug, glug..." Gareth Speed suddenly took a few more gulps of wine, then suddenly stood up, waving his hand excitedly, "He is our pride, and always will be!"
On this day, everyone in this room was proud of Maël!
I still have a bit left to write, so I'll continue in the next chapter, which will also serve as a connection to tomorrow's 20,000+ words.
The awards ceremony is difficult to write, but when I write the schedule next, there will be fewer late updates and fewer updates of one or two thousand words less. The monthly word count will not be less. Monthly update: 315,000 words.
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