Dreams Becoming Reality
Things I once thought were unattainable dreams now felt like they were turning into reality. As I silently repeated the names of the seven teams Borja Navas had mentioned, my heart raced uncontrollably.
Everyone has their own criteria for what counts as a big club, but those seven were undeniable big clubs by my standards.
But that wasn't the end of it.
"Actually, there are more."
"More?"
"Yes. Liverpool and Paris Saint-Germain have reached out too."
"……!"
Dry saliva slid down my throat with a gulp. The fact that nine big clubs were seriously interested in me still felt utterly surreal.
"That said, these two want to sign you next summer, so I excluded them for now. They're just looking to lock in a pre-contract."
"Ah…."
"It's not a bad offer, but I don't think we need to commit early and wait until next summer."
Borja Navas added, Your value will only go up in the meantime. I shared the exact same thought.
With seven teams already expressing interest in signing me this winter, as long as I stayed injury-free, offers would pour in next summer too. No need to settle for a pre-contract now.
Sure, locking in a big-club move now and playing for AD Alcorcon's La Liga 2 title and promotion until then had its merits… but waiting until summer made more sense.
"Let's move to another room."
Borja Navas stood up casually and led me to the room next to his office. Several BN Agency staff were already gathered there. It was a room equipped with a beam projector and a large screen, where something faintly visible projected on it. The bright lights made it hard to make out clearly.
"This way."
Borja Navas gestured to a seat, gave a silent nod to his staff, and one immediately approached the side of the screen while another turned off the room lights. As I sat down, Borja took the seat right next to me and said,
"Let's begin."
"Yes."
The man standing by the screen nodded slightly, cleared his throat, and began.
"I'll present information on the seven clubs expressing winter interest, including squad details and managerial tendencies."
What was on the screen was none other than a PPT presentation.
"First, Premier League clubs. Starting with Manchester United."
The quality of the PPT was exceptional. It covered basic squad analysis—even individual player personalities—coaching styles and preferred player types, and crucially, predictions on my potential role and impact upon joining. Data scrolled across the screen nonstop.
It even included analysis on whether the club's home city had a livable vibe, top-notch facilities, fan characteristics, cost of living, taxes, and real estate prices.
"…That's all."
As the PPT wrapped up, the staffer turned the lights back on without missing a beat. Borja Navas turned to me.
"How was the PPT?"
"Whoa, it was so detailed I was shocked. I can see why you say no agent matches your intel—it's no bluff."
"Haha! Hearing that as a bluff stings a bit."
"Ah… I didn't mean it like that, honestly."
Borja Navas chuckled silently at my fumbling.
"Before we dive deep into each team… let's look at the common threads first."
He tapped the desk lightly with his nails.
"I think these offers might feel a bit underwhelming."
I knew exactly what he meant. Not that they underwhelmed me, but none of these seven were close to winning the War of the Stars, the UEFA Champions League.
"Juventus and Inter Milan are at least competing for Serie A titles, but the rest are far from league champions right now."
True enough, if we nitpicked. Atlético Madrid and Borussia Dortmund often battled the so-called LeBayMun—the world's top prestige clubs—for league titles, so they stayed in the top ranks but rarely clinched them.
The Premier League—PL for short—didn't have a clear dominant force, but massive TV revenue distributed evenly to all twenty teams allowed even lower-table sides to build competitive squads, making every match brutally tough. With fierce title races against the so-called Big 7—Arsenal, Chelsea, Tottenham, Man City, Man United, Liverpool, Newcastle—the league's title difficulty was overwhelmingly number one in Europe.
This season, Manchester United, Chelsea FC, and Tottenham Hotspur were scrapping just to catch the last Champions League spot, let alone contend for the title.
"Of course, the winter window hasn't opened yet, and other big clubs could still come calling, so no need to be disappointed early."
"I'm not disappointed at all. If anything, I'm thrilled to get these offers."
"Save the joy for later. Once you hear the terms I'll negotiate, it'll be double—no, triple—what you're feeling now."
I nodded with utter trust in his confident words.
"First, I'd like to hear your thoughts briefly."
All eyes turned to me. I organized my mind for a moment, then spoke slowly.
"None of those seven clubs turn me off. Managerial tactics, player personalities, cliques… none of that bothers me."
Borja Navas grinned.
"Obviously because you're confident you'll excel anywhere?"
"Yes. Plus, all these teams desperately need striker reinforcements, so I know I'd be the centerpiece."
A striker's core is goals. No matter how ugly the game, pop the winner and everything's forgiven—that's the striker spot. Defenders and keepers get crucified for one slip even if they dominate otherwise.
Sure, racking up three-plus goal contributions per game in the PL, La Liga, Serie A, or Bundesliga won't be as easy as now… but impossible? Nah.
Even a third of my current stats would earn me world-class status and global stardom. After all, players consistently hitting one-plus contributions per game are rare in Europe—one or two per season at most, maybe three or four in busier years.
"But I do have a preferred league."
"Which one?"
"Premier League."
La Liga and the PL always vie for Europe's top league spot. The rest struggle to close the gap—capital and prestige are just too far.
"Preferring the PL makes sense if you want the best stage."
"Exactly."
"But PL over La Liga… is it because of Alcorcon?"
We could crumble in the second half and miss promotion, but I trusted my teammates to hold first place.
If I went to Atlético Madrid, we'd face AD Alcorcon next year. It tugged a bit….
"Can't say it's nothing, but it's barely a factor."
"Got it."
No need to avoid La Liga clubs over Alcorcon loyalty. Pro sports are cutthroat business.
"La Liga 2 and La Liga are worlds apart, sure. But after a year in Spanish football, if I'm switching nests, I'd rather try another country's style."
"Fair enough."
"Plus, I've watched tons of PL, so the desire to play there burns strong."
Borja Navas nodded in understanding.
"So England's three clubs jump to the top of the list."
"For now… yeah."
He grinned.
"We'll start negotiations with those three first. That said, I always respect the player's choice… but I'll push back on ridiculous terms."
"Same here. Not desperate to force it. Just most drawn to them among the options."
I added,
"My real priority is the club that wants me most desperately. And they won't lowball me."
Borja smirked in agreement.
"I won't let them, either."
We left contract details to him. If he deemed terms acceptable, they'd be top-tier.
As we wrapped up and I stood, Borja tossed a sudden question.
"Any specific demands? Money or otherwise—anything goes."
I paused mid-rise, sat back, chin in hand, thought, then spoke.
"Borja, remember the conditions I mentioned before?"
"The ones for non-big clubs?"
Don't refuse national team call-ups. Include a reasonable buyout clause. Invest boldly for success.
"Yes. I want to sign with a club that accepts those three."
Borja's expression darkened slightly.
"Hmm… the English three will hate the buyout especially. Makes them seem like a pit stop. Others will push for pay cuts too."
I knew. But there was a reason.
"I want to win titles. League and Champions League."
Those three were a ways off from titles right now. Things could change—like how AD Alcorcon became contenders after I joined.
If I elevated them to Europe's elite, I'd stay even with a buyout. But if not?
"I get it. Push those terms, and we'll see who's hungriest."
I'd sketched the big picture; the details were for the pro, Borja Navas.
"I'll call soon with good news."
Parting with Borja, I headed to the parking lot when—
Bzzz!
A light vibration in my pocket. I could guess the sender without checking—probably Niela, knowing I was here, wanting to meet.
…Or so I thought.
"Hm?"
I tilted my head at the unexpected name. But a small smile soon crept across my lips.