The buses rolled into Costa Brava before sunrise, engines humming low as if they too respected the weight of what lay ahead. Álex pressed his forehead lightly against the cool window, watching the outline of mountains dissolve into morning mist. Somewhere beyond them waited pitches that had hosted dreams for decades. MICFootball was not just a tournament. It was a proving ground.
Inside the bus, the Valencia U15 squad sat in a strange balance of silence and noise. Some boys joked too loudly, laughter brittle and sharp. Others stared at their phones without really seeing the screens. Javi Torres sat two seats ahead of Álex, headphones on, tapping his knee in restless rhythm.
Álex closed his eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
This was real now.
When they arrived at the venue, the atmosphere hit immediately. Flags from different countries fluttered near the entrance. Coaches shouted instructions in languages Álex couldn't identify. Balls thudded against boots on nearby pitches, overlapping rhythms creating a constant heartbeat.
MICFootball 2023 had begun.
Matchday 1 — Valencia CF U15 vs California 08B Allstars
The group stage opener.
The coaches gathered the squad in a tight circle beside Pitch 4. Coach Molina spoke calmly, deliberately.
"Play simple. Play brave. Trust your structure. This is not about forcing moments. The moments will come."
Álex nodded along with everyone else, but inside, his focus narrowed. He knew his role. Left-sided attacking midfielder. Link play. Create. Press when needed. Decide quickly.
The lineup was announced.
Álex Castillo. Starting.
His chest tightened, not with fear, but with a quiet, fierce readiness.
As the teams walked onto the pitch, the California side stood out immediately. Physically strong, broad-shouldered, confident. Their warm-up was loud, full of whoops and chest bumps. They looked like they believed they belonged here.
So did Valencia.
The referee checked his watch.
Whistle.
The opening minutes were chaotic. Passes bounced. Touches were heavy. Tournament nerves wrapped themselves around ankles and wrists alike.
Álex touched the ball for the first time in the third minute. A simple reception from the left-back. He opened his body, scanned, and returned it one-touch. Nothing fancy. Just rhythm.
[Composure maintained.]
California pressed aggressively, trying to overwhelm early. One of their midfielders clattered into Javi with a late challenge. The referee warned him, but the message was clear.
This would be physical.
Álex adjusted, dropping slightly deeper to help build play. In the 8th minute, he received the ball under pressure, two opponents closing fast. He rolled the ball across his body and slipped a short pass into the pivot midfielder, breaking the press cleanly.
The Valencia bench nodded in approval.
The game began to settle.
By the 15th minute, Álex started to feel it. The pitch. The spacing. The patterns.
California's right-back pushed high, leaving space behind. Álex drifted into that pocket repeatedly, ghosting into areas defenders didn't want to track.
In the 18th minute, the ball came to him near the touchline. He slowed, drawing the defender in.
Stepover.
Second step.
Burst.
[Stepover success.]
He cut inside and released a curling pass toward the penalty spot. The striker met it first time.
Saved.
Groans rippled through the Valencia supporters gathered behind the barrier.
"Good idea!" Molina shouted.
Álex didn't react. He was already tracking back.
The goal came in the 27th minute.
It started with pressure. Valencia's press forced a turnover near midfield. The ball bounced loose, and Álex arrived first, cushioning it with his instep.
He looked up.
Javi Torres was sprinting down the right, dragging defenders with him. The striker checked his run, pulling the center-back out of position.
Álex saw the lane.
He didn't hesitate.
The pass slid through, perfectly weighted, splitting the defense like a quiet decision made loud.
The striker took one touch.
Shot.
Goal.
The net rippled.
Valencia erupted.
Álex felt a surge in his chest, sharp and bright, but he kept his head down, jogging back to position.
[Key pass registered.]
From the sideline, Carlos punched the air once, hard, before catching himself.
The goal woke California up.
They pushed higher, faster, more direct. Long balls tested Valencia's back line. One shot rattled the post in the 33rd minute, drawing a collective gasp.
Álex dropped deeper, helping defensively, closing passing lanes, tracking runners.
[Work rate sustained.]
In the 40th minute, a California midfielder broke free and surged toward the box. Álex sprinted back, timing his challenge perfectly, poking the ball away just before a shot could be taken.
The referee blew for halftime moments later.
Valencia 1–0 California.
In the huddle, Coach Molina was measured.
"Good start. But this isn't finished. They'll come harder. Álex, keep finding those pockets. Javi, stay wide. We stretch them, we control them."
Álex took a long drink of water, hands steady despite the pounding of his heart.
He felt good.
But tournaments punished complacency.
California came out flying. For ten minutes, Valencia barely saw the ball. Shots came in waves, blocked and deflected. The goalkeeper made two sharp saves.
Álex stayed composed, constantly offering angles, calming play when Valencia regained possession.
In the 52nd minute, he received the ball near midfield, turned away from pressure, and slowed the tempo deliberately, drawing a foul.
[Game management improved.]
The foul broke California's momentum.
From there, Valencia grew back into the match.
The decisive moment came in the 64th minute.
A quick throw-in caught California unprepared. The ball reached Álex near the edge of the box, back to goal.
A defender pressed tight.
Álex shifted his weight, rolled the ball with his sole, then spun the other way.
Space opened.
He struck through the ball with controlled force, aiming low, far corner.
The keeper dove.
Too late.
Goal.
For a split second, Álex just stood there, disbelief flickering across his face.
Then the noise hit him.
Teammates swarmed him. Javi grabbed him by the shoulders, shouting something Álex couldn't hear over the rush in his ears.
[Finishing improved under pressure.]
Valencia 2–0.
The final minutes were about discipline. Valencia kept their shape, recycling possession, forcing California to chase shadows.
Álex was substituted in the 72nd minute, legs heavy, lungs burning. As he walked off, Coach Molina clapped him on the shoulder.
"Well done."
Those two words carried more weight than any celebration.
The final whistle blew moments later.
Valencia CF U15 2–0 California 08B Allstars.
The boys gathered near the bench, sweat-soaked, smiling, relieved. One match down. Two more group games to go.
Álex sat on the grass, stretching his legs, staring at the sky.
[Match Rating: High]
[Confidence increased.]
He knew this was only the beginning. Group J was still open. JDB Internacional and CD Laguna EVT awaited.
And somewhere else in the tournament, Atlético de Madrid were winning too.
The paths were being drawn.
Slowly.
Inevitably.