The fireworks of Istanbul still seem to flicker before my eyes, and the gleam of the Champions League trophy as it paraded through the Manchester sun is still etched on my retina.But once you've truly reached the summit, you realize that the descent is far steeper than the ascent.
Carrington in July returned to its usual hustle and bustle, yet it was completely different from before.A subtle atmosphere permeated the air—the confidence of a champion, mixed with an indescribable tension.Reporters' cameras and microphones were even more concentrated, and their focus, unsurprisingly, remained on the young man wearing the red number 7 jersey.
Cristiano Ronaldo stepped out of his car and was instantly surrounded by flashing lights.Dressed in simple training gear, he remained calm, gave a slight nod to the cameras, and walked straight into the training ground.Compared to a few months ago, his gait was more composed, and his brows held less youthful sharpness and more of the composure befitting a champion.
"Cristiano, is defending the Champions League title your only goal for the new season?"
"There are rumors that Real Madrid's interest in you is more concrete.How do you respond to that?"
Do you think you can win the Golden Globe this year?
Questions came flooding in, but he didn't stop.Just before entering the gate, he turned his head and said in clear English, "The past belongs to history, the future requires sweat.Right now, I just want to train."
In the locker room, the atmosphere had shifted as well.The veterans looked at him with a newfound respect mixed with reliance.New signings, like the recently joined French left-back Patrice Evra, looked at him with obvious curiosity and scrutiny.Was this the same 19-year-old who had lifted the Champions League trophy as captain?
"Hey, you're the 'phenomenon'?" Evra walked over with his signature, slightly provocative smile.
Cristiano Ronaldo was tying his shoelaces when he looked up at his energetic new teammate, a slight smile playing on his lips: "I'm Cristiano.Welcome to Manchester United, Patrice."
He was neither servile nor arrogant, neither pandering to his teasing nor keeping him at arm's length.Evra paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, patting him hard on the shoulder: "I like you, kid!Looks like it won't be boring here!"
On the training field, Sir Alex Ferguson had returned.Surgery and recovery had made him a little thinner, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever.He didn't say much, simply standing on the sidelines, his gaze like that of a hawk, sweeping over each of his players.
The intensity of the scrimmage was at its peak from the very first minute.Ronaldo could clearly feel that the balls his teammates passed him carried more trust and expectation.And the opponents' defense against him was even more relentless—not just in technical duels, but also in physical collisions and tactical fouls.
During a breakthrough down the wing, he was brought down by a fierce but clean tackle from new signing, Argentine defender Heinze.Grass clippings covered him.
"Are you alright, Cristiano?" Keane's voice came from behind, filled with concern and scrutiny.He was observing how this young leader would handle this ongoing and escalating confrontation after becoming the target of everyone's anger.
Cristiano Ronaldo got up from the ground, brushed off the grass and dirt, nodded to Heinze, and then looked at Keane: "It's okay, captain.This is just the beginning."
He didn't complain, didn't try to argue with the referee, and didn't even show a hint of anger on his face.He simply ran back to his position silently, his eyes even more focused.
Ferguson nodded slightly on the sidelines.His biggest worry was the arrogance that comes with honor.But now it seemed the boy was more clear-headed than he had imagined.
After training, Ronaldo practiced free kicks.The ball repeatedly rounded the wall and nestled into the net with a crisp sound.But his brow furrowed slightly.He sensed something was wrong.His body's fatigue and muscle response seemed a notch slower than at the end of last season.The Champions League celebrations, commercial activities, national team matches… the lack of systematic and thorough relaxation and restorative training after the high-intensity post-season was beginning to show its effects.
"How are you feeling?" Ferguson walked up to him without him noticing.
Cristiano Ronaldo stopped what he was doing, wiped his sweat, and said frankly, "Boss, I feel a bit heavy."
Ferguson looked at him, his gaze deep: "Remember, the crown is heavy.Running with it requires even greater strength.Your challenge has only just begun."
The setting sun cast long shadows of the two men.Cristiano Ronaldo looked at the goal and took a deep breath.
Yes, the challenge has begun.It comes not only from the outside, but also from within the body, from the weight of that invisible crown.
He needs to readjust, he needs to evolve again.