Diego Nunez was at the front. The giant defender was skipping. He was singing a song that did not have words just loud happy noises.
Sergio Ramos was next. The captain. He had won the World Cup. He had won the Champions League. But today he looked like a child on Christmas morning.
Arthur Milton walked next to Michael. Arthur was crying. He was not hiding it.
"Boss," Arthur sniffed. "My legs are shaking. Is this real? Did Amara really turn into a Ferrari? Did Diego really use his brain?"
"It is real Arthur," Michael said putting a hand on his shoulder. "We are here. We climbed the mountain."
They reached the top.
The Prince of Wales was there. He shook the hand of Sergio Ramos. He gave him the trophy.
The FA Cup.
It was silver. It was heavy. It had ribbons of purple and white on the handles.
Ramos took it. He turned to the team. He turned to the crowd of 40,000 Barnsley fans below.
He did not lift it yet.
He looked at Michael.
"Boss," Ramos said. "Come here."
