Chapter 17 – The Whisper Grows Louder
February brought rain.
Not the gentle kind that dances on rooftops. The heavy kind. Relentless. Cold. Soaking the Benfica training ground from dawn to dusk.
But Jota didn't mind. He welcomed it.
Every drop was a test. Every puddle a lesson. And every slip a reason to get back up.
Coach Sofia once joked, "He's half fish now."
But Coach Nuno didn't laugh. "No," he said. "He's just growing gills to survive higher tides."
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Two weeks after the France tour, the national federation sent a follow-up evaluation.
Jota ranked first in passing accuracy. Second in distance covered. Third in chance creation.
He ranked last in complaints.
Zero.
Coach Nuno pinned the report beside the whiteboard.
"No one here is chasing stars," he said. "We're raising anchors."
Jota copied the report into his notebook, hand steady. Then closed it slowly, like sealing a promise.
