Joining the Team
Everything was moving forward without a hitch.
Sister Caterina kept Yohan well informed of every development, and inside the club, preparations to welcome him were already complete.
The team he would be assigned to was AS Roma's Pulcini — the youth category that, across Italy, covered children from ages eight to ten.
I want to go already…
Having missed the camp in order to join the youth team, Yohan felt himself withering a little more each day. If it hadn't been summer break he would have filled the hours at school, but with nothing to do while he waited, the stretch of empty time was becoming a real problem. The urge to pester Sister Caterina about it was something he had never felt before — which only showed how desperately he was counting down the days until his official induction into Roma.
"Yohan, Hailey's on the phone."
He had been fidgeting in place when Sister Caterina brought the unexpected news, and he hurried out of his room at once.
"Hello?"
He went to the Mother Superior's office, lifted the receiver, and Hailey's distinctive, sharp-edged voice came through.
"I called to ask Sister whether you'd done your summer homework or not — and look, you're right there."
"Yeah, that's me."
"I thought you were going to camp? It's not even the weekend — how are you at the convent? Did they kick you out?"
"No. I got into the youth team, so camp got canceled."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'll tell you everything when you get back. But Hailey."
"What."
"Do you like me that much? You call a lot."
"What kind of idiot thing is that to say? Are you kidding me? Including today, I've only called twice!!"
Yohan's ear rang from the volume blasting through the receiver. He pulled it away for a moment, then brought it back.
"Why are you getting so mad?"
"Because you're saying ridiculous things…!"
The truth was that Hailey's personality was so fierce she barely had any friends at all. When she got bored enough to need a conversation with someone her own age, her only real options were tormenting her little brother or calling Yohan.
"I see. Unfortunately for you, international calls are expensive, so I can't talk long."
"With international calls, only the person who dials pays. The one receiving doesn't pay a thing."
"Oh, really? I didn't know that."
"You're a dummy. A total dummy."
"Now that I know, I'm not a dummy anymore."
"Why would I be the one who's disappointed, anyway? You think I'd be sad if I couldn't talk to you?"
"You wouldn't?"
"Of course not! The nerve of you."
"I'm hurt."
"…Unbelievable. You haven't done your summer homework, have you?"
"…Huh?"
Yohan flinched and tried to play it off as if he hadn't heard. But Hailey didn't miss the tiny hesitation in his answer.
"You did it, didn't you?"
"No. There's still a lot left."
"That means you already did some."
"If you want to look at it that way, I guess you could."
"What kind of weird answer is that…! Do you want to die? I told you not to do it — why did you do it? Why?!"
"My friends wanted to do it together, so I didn't have a choice. I left the parts for us to do, so don't worry."
"I'm not worried! I'm scolding you for breaking your promise!"
Whenever she got angry, Hailey's Italian sped up to a remarkable degree — something Yohan always found fascinating. She said she'd learned it from her Italian grandmother since she was little, but the fluency still seemed almost impossible. She mixed in English here and there, true, but even accounting for that, it was impressive. Yohan himself tended to speak more slowly, which only made the contrast sharper.
"I'm sorry. When you get back, let's do the math and science homework together."
"You only left the subjects you're worst at."
"I left plenty of other subjects too. And aren't math and science the ones you're worst at, not me?"
"You botched the last math assignment like an idiot and you're still saying that?"
"Just come back already. Let's hang out with the others."
"Don't change the subject. Talking to you makes my fist start shaking."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Take the hit. I'll punch you when I get back."
"I don't want to get hit…"
"That's not one of your options."
She talked a big game, but Yohan knew perfectly well that Hailey never actually used her fists. Verbal violence, she dished out freely — physical contact, never. And her brand of verbal violence never really hurt; if anything, it was entertaining. He couldn't quite put his finger on why. The closest he came was a vague sense that she was like a little sister throwing a tantrum.
"What's Aunt Carrie doing?"
"She went to pick up Grandma."
"Ah, so Grandma wasn't home."
"She went to work out, got exhausted, and called Mom to come get her."
"Uh…?"
If you called someone to pick you up, what was the point of working out in the first place? Hailey's family seemed to have more than its share of unusual people, Yohan thought, then asked,
"What's your little brother doing?"
"Playing on his game console."
A game console was one of the luxury items Yohan desperately wanted. Hailey's brother was two years younger than her, as far as he knew — and he got free rein with a console from the age of seven. The envy was almost unbearable.
"Must be nice…"
"Nice, nothing… Why do boys like games so much, anyway? Whatever — you…"
Hailey seemed to have plenty more to say, and she showed no sign of hanging up. Yohan listened to every word with genuine attention, and the time slipped by.
Two days later, Yohan went with Sister Caterina — not to the training ground, but to the youth academy. Salvatore, who had stepped away from camp briefly for today's business, was waiting to greet them. Yohan bowed his head.
"Hello, Coach."
The Korean-style greeting was one of the things Sister Caterina considered most important — part of the education meant to firmly establish Yohan's identity.
"Hey there. And hello to you as well, Sister."
Salvatore had seen children from East Asia before, if not many, and he received the greeting without missing a beat. After discussing the contract with Sister Caterina, he looked down at Yohan.
"Welcome to Roma. Come on in."
The moment those words landed, Yohan's heart hammered hard in his chest. He was about to become a player for the Roma he had dreamed of. One step away. He gripped Sister Caterina's hand tightly and stepped inside the club.
It was a completely different feeling from walking in for camp. He tried not to show it, but the smile leaking across his face refused to be hidden. Watching him, Salvatore was reminded once again why players raised in a club's own backyard were so deeply loved.
Boys who grew up watching their local club's matches and players carried a loyalty that set them apart. Players from other regions or countries could settle into a club properly, of course — but as a general rule, the locals loved it more. Unless something serious forced their hand, they didn't leave.
That, however, was the old way of thinking.
In today's game, players' ambitions ran large. If the wages didn't match their ability, or if they hungered for a championship trophy, even a local product would walk. With the football league systems of the entire world mapped out, any player with real quality had clubs lining up to sign him — and they paid well. Roma, while not exactly in financial crisis, didn't have vast sums to throw around, and often had no choice but to let them go.
Roma was considered a prestigious club, but its trophy cabinet told a thinner story. Cup trophies, yes — plenty of those. League titles and international silverware, though, lagged well behind the other clubs that wore the same "elite" label. Lately, they hadn't even been able to knock on the door of a championship. The last real highlight had been five years ago, when Lorenzo Lucca's performances delivered a single cup trophy. Being outpaced even by their rivals, Lazio, was the hard truth of Roma's present.
Money and recent league form made it nearly impossible to bring in top talent. What kept them afloat in the upper half of the table was the presence of players like Lorenzo Lucca, Sebastiano Ricci, and Alexander Rossi — academy products of outstanding quality who held the club together.
The problem was how loudly the transfer rumors around those three were swirling. All three were fiercely loyal, but in football, any number of factors could make anything happen.
Why am I even thinking about this right now?
Perhaps it was because he had watched too many youth players who once loved Roma the way Yohan did leave the club for wealth and glory — and some part of him was already assuming Yohan would do the same when the time came.
Salvatore led the two of them to the office. He gave them a proper introduction to the club, then began carefully explaining the contract details he had been authorized to handle: the rights of club and player, systematic developmental support, contract length, competition participation, welfare benefits, and more. He broke down even the more complicated points as simply as he could. When Sister Caterina finished a quiet discussion with Yohan and signed the contract, Salvatore gave them a thumbs-up.
"As of today, Yohan is our player."
An unmistakable smile lit the face of the boy who had just officially become a youth player. Salvatore chuckled at the sight.
"Today we'll issue your kit and training gear, and we need to put together a training plan for you, so we'll run a simple test."
"Yes…! Where do we go now?"
Yohan's eagerness was so far out in front of him that Sister Caterina gently reined him in.
"Yohan. When your body is that tense, even the things you do well start to come apart. Let's try to stay a little calm."
"Okay."
Yohan took a deep breath as she advised, then followed Salvatore deeper into the academy. When Sister Caterina turned to head for the guardians' waiting room with another club official, he threw his arms around her.
"Thank you, Sister. I'm going to work so hard."
Like a child clinging to his mother, he held her waist with everything he had and poured out his gratitude. It felt like the greatest stroke of fortune of his life — he simply couldn't not hug her.
"Our Yohan is going to do wonderfully."
Feeling her gentle hand stroke his back, he made a quiet promise to himself. He would succeed. He would make his dream real. And he would make sure the four mothers at the convent saw him on television.