Barcelona, Spain – February 2004
It didn't take long.
One goal. One electric run. One flash of genius in front of thousands…
And suddenly, Lionel Messi was everywhere.
His name danced across Spanish headlines:
"Barça's Boy Wonder!""The Future Has Arrived""A Left Foot Sent from the Gods!"
TV panels showed replays of his first official goal on loop. Some slowed the footage frame-by-frame to highlight his control. Others compared his balance to Maradona, his vision to Cruyff, his style to no one at all.
Even the commentators who didn't know him a week ago were now debating:
"Should Rijkaard start him regularly?""Is he too young?""Can he handle the pressure?"
Inside La Masia
Messi still shared a dorm room with three other academy boys. The walls were thin, the heaters barely worked, and the nights were quiet.
But now, he got recognized in the hallway.
Kids stopped him for autographs. Staff smiled more. Even visiting players peeked into his training sessions.
His phone—once silent for days—now buzzed with messages from old schoolmates, far cousins, and agents he'd never heard of.
Antonela wrote too.
I saw it, Leo.The run. The goal. The smile afterward.You looked like you belonged.But don't forget who you are. Not even for a second.—A.
Rijkaard's Office – A Quiet Talk
The day after another short but bright substitute appearance, Rijkaard called Messi in.
"You're good, Leo. You know that, right?"
Messi nodded.
"But being good isn't enough now," Rijkaard continued. "People expect magic every time."
He leaned back.
"Don't listen to them. Listen to the ball. Listen to your instincts. That's what got you here."
Messi nodded again. "Yes, coach."
"And Leo…"
"Yes?"
"You don't need to be the next Maradona."
Rijkaard smiled.
"Just be the first Messi."
The Next Match – Home vs. Real Zaragoza
The match was tight. 1–1 at halftime. Frustrations rising. Fans growing restless.
Rijkaard turned to Messi in the 62nd minute.
"Get ready."
He came on to a loud cheer now. His name was no longer unknown.
And with every touch, the crowd expected brilliance.
Minute 65 – His First Real Test
Xavi laid the ball off toward the wing. Messi collected it just past midfield.
Zaragoza's defender rushed in—a tall, strong center-back who'd played 200 La Liga matches.
The crowd murmured. "Let's see…"
First touch: Messi cushioned the ball close.Second: tried to shift inside.
But the defender didn't bite.
Messi tried to dribble—
Taken away.
The defender thumped the ball out and barked at him: "Not in my house, niño."
The fans didn't boo.
But they didn't cheer either.
Messi jogged back into position.
Minute 70 – Another Chance
Deco played a quick pass forward.
Messi received it on the run, looked up, and slipped a through ball toward Ronaldinho.
Too heavy.
The keeper got there first.
More murmurs.
Rijkaard frowned.
Minute 76 – One More Time
This time, Ronaldinho found Messi near the box. The defenders held their line.
Messi cut in from the right. The stadium rose to its feet.
He feinted. Shifted the ball.
Tried to shoot…
Blocked.
The rebound bounced away.
He chased, but Zaragoza cleared.
No magic tonight.
Full-Time: Barcelona 1 – Zaragoza 1
A draw. The crowd clapped politely.
Reporters noticed Messi's quiet outing.
"Barça's golden boy struggles under the spotlight.""Is the hype too soon?"
Post-Match – Locker Room
Messi sat, laces still tied.
Ronaldinho walked by and squeezed his shoulder.
"They watch you more now," he said. "That's not your fault. That's what happens when you shine."
Messi nodded.
"I didn't do anything tonight," he whispered.
Ronaldinho smiled. "That's okay. Sometimes, the magician saves his tricks for the next show."
That Night
Messi didn't write immediately.
He stared at the ceiling. Then at his boots.
Still muddy. Still worn.
Still his.
When the pen finally met the page, the words were quieter than usual.
Anto,They expect magic now. Every time. I tried, but nothing worked.They called it disappointing. Maybe it was.But I know this — I won't stop trying.Not every show ends in fireworks. But every show starts the same — with the ball at my feet.And I still have the ball.—Leo
Next Day – Training
He arrived early.
Before the sun rose.
Before the coaches showed up.
Just Messi. A bag. And a ball.
He practiced dribbling between cones. Passing against the wall. Shooting at empty nets.
Later, Rijkaard spotted him from the balcony.
"He's back already?" one assistant asked.
Rijkaard nodded. "He never left."
Meanwhile – At a Café in Madrid
A group of Real Madrid scouts watched Messi's highlights on a laptop.
One of them leaned in.
"He's still raw. Small. Needs muscle."
Another replied, "But did you see his feet?"
"Yeah," the first one said. "He's going to be a problem."
In Rosario – Antonela's Room
She watched a grainy clip of Messi's blocked shot, paused the video, and stared at the moment his foot connected with the ball.
He still looked calm. Still looked like Leo.
She whispered, "Don't listen to them."
Then she smiled.
"Just keep going."