June 2013 (continued) carried the weight of expectation. After weathering Boca and Independiente, Lucas faced his greatest challenge yet: River's reserves—anchored by midfield maestro Enzo Fernández and lethal striker Julián Álvarez—followed by a rematch with Huracán. This was more than tests of skill; it was a proving ground for rivalries that would shape him.
River Reserve: Clash of Minds and Will
We arrived at River's training complex beneath a slate‐gray sky. The sleek white-and-red pavilion gleamed, a shrine to generations of excellence. Lucas felt his pulse quicken.
On the pitch, Enzo Fernández—long legs and a calm glare—dictated every movement. He orbited the ball with unhurried precision, spraying passes like a conductor wielding a wand. Nearby, Julián Álvarez danced between defenders, timing his runs to perfection, an unerring predator in the final third.
From the first whistle, the battle lines were drawn. Lucas marked Enzo tightly. Every time Enzo received the ball, Lucas lunged in—shoulder to chest—to disrupt his rhythm. Enzo swallowed the challenge with a small smile, pivoted, and slipped a pass through Lucas's legs. The ball found Álvarez, who surged down the channel, burst into the box, and unleashed a thunderous strike that grazed Lucas's outstretched foot on its way in. 1–0 River.
Lucas's jaw clenched. He'd been outfoxed not by brute force, but by elegance.
In the 25th minute, Lucas retaliated. Spotting Enzo dropping deep to collect the ball, Lucas intercepted a sliding back‐heel at the edge of the River circle. He drove forward under a press, chest‐controlled a looping clearance, and sent Duarte racing in. Lucas hustled alongside, then laid off a weighted pass for Vargas, whose volley forced a sprawling save. The rebound fell to Lucas, who fired a low shot—too high—but the message was clear: he could match River's stars with grit and timing.
River's coach called Enzo aside at half‐time. Lucas caught his eye: mutual respect glinting in Enzo's gaze. But across the line, Julián Álvarez smirked and raised an eyebrow, as if daring Lucas to face him next.
Redemption in the Second Half
The second half opened with River's frenetic counter‐press. Julián Álvarez tormented our full‐back every time we ventured forward. In one sequence, Lucas fed Sosa a through‐ball. Sosa sprinted clear, but Álvarez shadowed him step for step, racing his rival to the ball and sweeping it away with a scything tackle.
Lucas's frustration flared. He confronted Álvarez at midfield, chests brushing, eyes locked. Álvarez leaned in, voice low and fierce: "You want to play here? Earn it." Their breath mingled under the floodlights. Lucas looked away first, picking up the whistle of the ref and turning back to work.
In the 68th minute, Lucas got his moment. A careless pass from Enzo—a rare misstep—rolled to Lucas at the top of the D. He took a breath, struck a curling shot that dipped inside the far post, and sent River's keeper sprawling. The stadium fell silent before erupting with awe. Lucas raced toward the corner flag, arms outstretched, heart blazing.
Enzo stopped in the center circle, shake of head and an approving nod. Álvarez watched from the box, expression unreadable but applause unmistakable.
The final minutes were a whirlwind. River scrambled, but Lucas marshaled his lines with newfound authority. The whistle blew: 1–1. A draw that felt like victory.
Huracán Redux: Full Circle
Three days later, under an afternoon sun, Lucas faced Huracán again. The Butteler's drums beat in the stands, a constant reminder that passion can be as potent as skill. This time, Lucas carried the confidence earned at River.
In the 15th minute, he danced through midfield, evading a challenge with a Cruyff turn that left his marker spinning. He slipped a perfect pass to Duarte, who turned and fired a shot that rattled the post.
Huracán responded fiercely. Their big striker muscled him off the ball, but Lucas stayed calm—no red‐mist flare—knowing the summit was climbed step by step.
In the 42nd minute, Lucas struck first, a low drive from twenty yards that slid under the keeper's gloves. He wheeled away, eyes blazing.
Huracán equalized from a set piece, but Lucas's second act arrived in the 75th minute: a crushing interception on the edge of his own box, a burst of acceleration past two tired legs, and a measured finish that sealed a 2–1 win.
Foundations of Rivalry
That night, Lucas lay awake replaying River's elegance and Huracán's passion. He thought of Enzo Fernández's calm mastery and Julián Álvarez's fiery relentlessness. Through their battles, he'd found pieces of himself: the patience to wait for space, the resolve to seize it, and the humility to learn from giants.
He whispered into the darkness:For every titan I face, I carve a higher summit.
[End of Chapter 26]