A Small Stroke of Luck
After Yohan's injury, the Pulcini teams of Roma and Lazio played out the rest of the match with extreme caution.
Watching him writhe in pain had put a sharp edge of alarm into every player on the pitch.
The final score was a 0–0 draw — but the result hardly mattered. What mattered was Yohan's condition.
A thorough examination revealed a very slight crack in his ankle bone.
He would need four to five weeks to recover. For both Yohan and the club, that was genuinely fortunate news.
Mauro found himself thinking that the boy's bones were remarkably sturdy. From the sound alone, he had been certain it was a full fracture — yet it had ended as nothing more than a light crack.
Genetically blessed, he thought.
"I can't play soccer?"
"…Didn't you hear them say it's cracked?"
"So I can't play?"
"You can't."
"What if I use the other foot?"
After calming Yohan down from making absurd suggestions to the doctor, Coach Mauro waited until the boy had learned how to use crutches from the nurse, then led him outside.
"You'll need to come to the club once a week for checkups."
"The club? Not the hospital?"
"We've got examination equipment at the club too. Today the distance was too far, so we came to the hospital in a hurry."
"Ah, got it. So what now?"
"The manager told me to take you straight home."
"What about the match?"
"You planning to play in that condition?"
"I can still cheer, can't I?"
"It's already over, kid."
"Did we win?"
"I didn't ask about the result. Are the crutches uncomfortable?"
At that, Yohan gestured toward his armpits.
"They kind of hurt."
"That's because your weight is resting on your armpits. The nurse told you to support yourself with your arms, remember?"
"It's not as easy as it sounds."
"That's normal if it's your first time. Come on — let's practice a few times before we go."
"Okay."
After practicing crutch technique with Mauro, Yohan rode in his car back to the convent.
Sister Melissa and the other nuns were startled to see him with a cast on one leg, but they soon accepted the situation with outward calm.
In truth, they only pretended to be composed, afraid that fussing would make Yohan anxious. Inside, they were deeply worried.
At the same time, they understood that injuries were a risk that came with playing football. So the nuns soothed Coach Mauro, who kept apologizing and taking the blame upon himself, and after hearing the recovery plan, they sent Yohan to rest.
The next day, when Yohan arrived at school, he was bombarded with intense curiosity from the boys.
The moment he said he'd been injured playing football, his friends' eyes lit up with admiration. It was a wound of glory — something to be envied.
"Which idiot did this to you?"
Haley's question — her personality having thoroughly rubbed off on everyone around Yohan.
He scratched the side of his head and asked back,
"Idiot?"
"Which moron did this. I'll beat them up for you."
"Don't. It was a small accident during the match. He even asked me to pass along that he was sorry."
"So he slaps you and then says sorry and that's it?"
"I didn't get slapped."
"That's a figure of speech, you know?"
"You know a word I don't? Impressive."
"What? The way you say that makes it sound like I study worse than you!"
"Wasn't that the case? You're always asking me to teach you."
"When did I ever ask you to teach me! I just said we should do homework together!"
"Ah, I see. Understood."
"When are you going to realize how good you actually are? I can't tell if you're too dumb to know or if you're pretending not to. Anyway — who did this?"
"A Lazio player."
"And who's Lazio supposed to be?"
There was a reason Yohan kept saying Haley studied worse than him — she had brought it on herself. She would joke about not knowing common knowledge, and Yohan would take her completely seriously.
"It's a region. Rome is inside the Lazio region."
"I know. I was just joking."
"Doesn't seem like a joke… You really do seem to study worse than me…"
"It was a real joke! And why are we even talking about this right now? I'm trying to worry about you!"
"Sorry."
"Ugh… This is so annoying. Can you move okay?"
"Yeah."
"Then come on out. I'll buy you ice cream."
"Okay. Just a second… I'm slow."
"Now even your movements are turtle-like. It suits you."
"That's mean. But…"
Deflated by Haley's teasing, Yohan glanced at the bag hanging under her desk. A small wooden doll dangled from the front pocket.
Seeing it, he grinned and went on,
"It looks good with your bag."
"What does."
"The doll. The one I gave you."
"I just clip it on because it's less boring than nothing. Don't get any weird ideas."
"I wasn't thinking anything."
"Yeah, right."
"I'm serious…"
"Are you getting ice cream or not?"
"I am."
"Then hurry up and get out here."
"I told you I'm slow. Match my pace."
Grumbling that there was far too much to deal with, Haley came over to him. For all her complaining, she simply wanted to take care of him.
"You've gotten taller?"
Standing right beside him, Haley compared their heights and made the remark. As she said, Yohan's height had increased compared to the year before. It hadn't been a dramatic growth spurt, but children's growth rates were fast — no one could predict what would happen next.
"Yeah. I'm taller than you now."
"Don't make me laugh. You've still got a long way to go."
"No… No matter how much you insist, the fact is I'm taller."
"Ice cream."
Haley's firm voice, holding the ice cream hostage. Yohan flinched and muttered,
"But lying is…"
"Ice cream."
"Okay. Sorry."
"Good."
There weren't many matches left for the Pulcini team. Even so, Yohan found it deeply frustrating that he couldn't play because of his injury.
I need to heal fast and train like crazy.
That was the only thought in his head.
Without Yohan, Roma's Pulcini finished the season with a loss in their final match.
Overall it could have been considered an excellent campaign, but whether everyone had let their guard down at the end or not, they lost by three goals to an amateur club — and the coach thoroughly scolded the players for it.
As for Roma's first team, they had qualified for the Champions League for the first time in a long while. Having secured the spot by overtaking Lazio, both the players and the fans were overjoyed.
The manager was especially popular. There was a festive atmosphere outside the club — people saying his passport should be confiscated so he couldn't leave, that he should re-sign immediately. He had somehow salvaged a season that had been falling apart, so the celebration was only natural.
With Roma heading to the Champions League, transfer rumors were already swirling vigorously. And Yohan's football-obsessed friends put their heads together and held heated debates about who the club should sign.
"Defense first, no question. Melendez is retiring."
"We need midfield too. The other players are so dumb that Ricci's carrying the whole load alone."
"Gio, what do you think?"
They asked Yohan for his opinion more and more often. Since he was actually playing for Roma, they figured he knew the club better than they did.
"If they come, they come. If they go, they go."
But Yohan just shrugged it off, showing no interest in the transfer rumors. He had plenty of opinions — yet if he actually named someone he'd like to see signed, it would feel like disrespecting the players already in those positions, and that made him uncomfortable.
So he thought only of training, diligently receiving coaching on his fully healed leg as summer vacation arrived.
"It's June now, right? From now on, June is the day the Newman calendar year ends."
Haley, grinning because she was in a good mood after the closing ceremony, said something bizarre. Yohan tilted his head at the strange remark.
"What are you talking about?"
"Do you know what Newman is?"
"Yeah. It's your last name."
"Right. I've been in Italy for two years now. So this year becomes Year 1 of the Newman calendar."
"Huh? Shouldn't that make it Year 2?"
"Dummy. Last year was the day I made my grand entrance in Italy, so it doesn't count as a year. Think of it like Genesis. From now on, we count years by the Newman calendar."
"Hmm… I don't really get it. Can't we just do it the normal way?"
"I gave you a custom education for dummies and you still don't get it? This is a problem."
"Isn't the person who can't explain the dummy?"
"You wanna die?"
"No."
"Then why are you talking back?"
"I wasn't talking back…"
"Don't talk back. Shh. Close your mouth."
"Okay."
"What are you doing today? If you've got nothing planned, come over to my place. Mom said she'll make something delicious if you come."
"…."
Yohan stared blankly at Haley — a look that said, You told me to close my mouth, so why are you asking me questions?
Seeing this, Haley let out a snort of laughter mixed with a huff and said,
"You can answer questions."
"You keep changing the rules. It's confusing."
"Just answer."
"I have to go to the club today."
"Does it end around six?"
"Around then."
"Then Mom and I will come by then."
"Okay."
After making plans with Haley, Yohan returned to the convent with Sister Caterina. He greeted the nuns, watched a bit of television with them, then boarded the club bus that arrived on schedule and headed to the training center.
"Gio, you're here?"
As he came out after changing clothes, Coach Mauro happened to be stepping outside, rubbing his increasingly soft belly. Yohan bowed his head to him.
"Hello, Coach."
"Right. I heard school let out for vacation?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"I called the convent and they told me."
"A call?"
"I needed to get consent for something. Starting next week, want to train somewhere else?"
"What? Where?"
"The Esordienti training ground. You and Bianchi have been selected for early promotion."