The hum of the private jet faded behind him as Sam stepped onto Spanish soil again. The air was colder than Abuja's warmth, a sharp reminder that Christmas was over. Holidays done, smiles stored away. Now it was time to work.
Even during the Christmas period, Sam didn't exempt himself from daily training completely, the system wouldn't let him.
He still did the bare minimum every day to keep himself in shape.
But now, it was time to ramp things up again.
Barcelona's training ground, Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper buzzed with energy. Cones lined the pitches, and bibs fluttered as coaches barked in Catalan.
And there, scattered across the field, were the brothers he'd missed. On one side, there was Pedri juggling a ball idly, on another side Yamal was pulling a prank on Gavi, while Balde stretched like he'd never left.
When Sam jogged over, Raphinha spotted him first.
"¡Mira quién está aquí!" he shouted. "Ballon d'Or man has returned!"
