#64 Connection (3)
Yesterday, Borja Navas had said something like that to me. By now, plenty of clubs were probably keeping tabs on me, and some might even be preparing bids already.
Borja Navas's prophecy-like words...
"Getafe has put in an offer."
...had come true in just one day.
"They bid exactly on your buyout clause, so we're in no position to turn it down. If you agree, the transfer goes through."
There wasn't a shred of energy left in Iñigo Chapé's voice. That explained why his tone had sounded so off during their call earlier—it was all because of this offer.
"Since you don't have an agent, I had no choice but to call you directly. Because... right now, in the conference room, Getafe's sporting director and the agent he brought along are waiting for you."
"They're here?"
Iñigo Chapé nodded slightly.
"They want to talk to you if possible."
Probably because I didn't have an agent, they planned to negotiate with me face-to-face.
"They knew you weren't coming in today and were just going to get your contact info and head out. But I told them I'd try calling you in."
"Why?"
Iñigo Chapé hesitated for a moment before answering cautiously.
"...To gauge your intentions."
With a bittersweet look in his eyes, he added, "If you decide to go to Getafe, we'll need to find a new striker fast. The transfer window doesn't have much time left. You leaving would be a massive loss for us."
"Hmm..."
"That's why, as director, I needed to know which way you're leaning after you talk it over today."
I stared at Iñigo Chapé for a beat before asking, "Shouldn't convincing me to stay be your first priority?"
For some reason, it felt like he assumed I'd solidify my decision to transfer after the meeting.
Iñigo Chapé let out a small chuckle.
"Theo, if it came down to you staying in exchange for me going between your legs, I'd do it ten times over."
"...?!"
"You're the player who can take this club to La Liga for the first time in its history. I believe that without a doubt. As director, there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep a talent like you. If we make it to La Liga, it'll be a huge boost for my career too."
Iñigo Chapé's eyes burned with pure sincerity.
"But pro sports is a cutthroat business world. And players in the second division almost always want offers from top-division clubs. It's only natural. Salary matters, but so does the stage you play on, right?"
I could only nod silently in agreement.
"Plus, you don't have an agent right now. If you did, I'd hand the transfer negotiations to them and focus entirely on convincing you to stay. But without one, I can't exactly stop you from talking to Getafe."
Maybe because things had come to this, Iñigo Chapé was laying out his honest thoughts one after another.
"Honestly, I saw it coming. After your standout play in the fourth division, it was obvious some clubs would have you on their lists. I just figured the earliest would be this winter. You've only really faced pro-level opponents in two games, after all."
"Hmm..."
"And I didn't think mid-to-lower La Liga clubs would come calling. Those teams rarely have more than €20 million to spend in the summer window. Some can't even hit €10 million."
Iñigo Chapé explained that most mid-to-lower La Liga clubs had already wrapped up their reinforcements as the transfer window neared its end.
"Getafe's a bit different, though. They've made a tidy profit from transfers this window, enough to comfortably cover your €1.5 million buyout."
"I see."
"What I'm saying is, we haven't fully prepared for a new striker yet. We've been scouting, but I wanted to observe more before winter."
Iñigo Chapé gave an awkward smile.
"Sorry for rambling. Anyway, go meet them. Forget our previous promises—just tell me how you really feel afterward."
He nodded toward the conference room next to his office and added, "Through an agent if you want."
My gaze naturally drifted that way.
If they'd summoned me to Getafe CF's offices, I probably wouldn't have bothered going. But since they'd come all this way to wait for me, I figured I'd at least meet their sporting director.
It was the team willing to pay my €1.5 million buyout outright—the first in my career to do so. That piqued my interest a little.
And my first impression of Getafe CF's sporting director...
...wasn't bad.
He had a fairly clean-cut look, and his voice was steady. But if I wasn't mistaken, there wasn't much desperation in his eyes when he looked at me.
"This is the agent, Juan. I heard you haven't signed with one yet, so I brought someone I know well."
Juan extended his hand, and I shook it with a quick nod.
"You've only been in Spain a short time, right?"
"About six months now."
"Played a year in Korea before coming here."
"That's right."
"No agent back then?"
"Nope."
"Ah, that explains it. I was shocked to hear a pro player didn't have one. Makes sense now, haha."
Getafe CF's sporting director smiled and patted the agent's shoulder.
"An agent is crucial for any pro. Hell, it's been ages since I've negotiated a transfer directly with a player like this."
"I see."
"Dealing one-on-one with a director is tough for players in a lot of ways. You have to hash out money stuff, and post-signing details can lead to arguments that make things awkward."
I gave a small nod.
At AD Alcorcón, my position had been rock-solid even back in the B team, so unlike what he was saying, it hadn't been uncomfortable at all. I'd used Camilla Bravo as a proxy, but I'd led the salary negotiations myself.
"That's why I'm introducing you to this agent. He's a close contact of mine, so if you have any requests for me, just go through Juan—it'll be quicker and smoother."
I glanced between the two, tilting my head slightly.
It wasn't weird for a director to recommend an agent to a player. But something felt off. This agent hadn't said a word yet, letting the director handle even his own introduction.
For a moment, it felt like the director was the agent's proxy.
I stared hard at the agent Getafe CF's sporting director had brought.
A bushy beard covered his jaw, his round body looked like it could tumble down a hill without a scratch, and his innocent eyes paired with an oddly awkward smile filled my view.
"Handle the agent contract details with him separately... From what Chapé said, I've decided to bring you to our club."
I shifted my gaze back to Getafe CF's sporting director.
"We've been watching you since your B-team days at Alcorcón. After the preseason friendly against Rayo Vallecano and yesterday's game against Barça Atlètic, we made our internal call. You're the striker we need."
I listened quietly.
"We're looking for a backup striker right now. And we don't think there's anyone better for it. That's our internal assessment."
As soon as he finished, Getafe CF's sporting director waved his hand in the air and continued.
"Ah, no need to worry about 'backup.' Our manager isn't the type to stubbornly stick to set starters. If you keep scoring like you are now in La Liga, you'll win the starting spot easily. I'll pitch you to him as our No. 2 striker and make sure you get your chances."
I listened silently before tossing out a question.
"So, what's the weekly wage?"
Bringing up money first made the director's eyes change slightly.
He crossed his arms casually and fired back.
"Jumping straight to salary? Without an agent, one-on-one? Is that why you haven't hired one yet?"
The vibe was: this won't be easy.
I just stared at Getafe CF's sporting director.
He chuckled and said, "Fine, whatever. Money's the most important part anyway."
Getafe CF's sporting director uncrossed his arms and leaned forward over the table.
"If you went from B team to pro contract, you're probably on rookie pay. At Alcorcón... about €2,000 a week?"
"..."
"I think you deserve more than that. So, double—€4,000. No bonuses for goals or appearances included."
My lips twitched at his generous tone.
Noticing I wasn't impressed, Getafe CF's sporting director elaborated.
"You won't get higher than this anywhere in your career right now. Even at other clubs. Sure, you shone in the fourth division, but to cash in big on that, you'd need to be a teenager. And at pro level, your highlight is just that opener yesterday."
"..."
"The fact that I'm offering €4,000 is because I rate your potential highly. It's generous."
"..."
"This is why players need pro agents for negotiations... You don't even know how good a deal this is..."
Getafe CF's sporting director shook his head, muttering like he pitied me. Beside him, the chubby agent watched me with sparkling eyes, as if to say trust me.
...Oh man.
This was too funny to hold in.
Getafe CF's sporting director turned back to me.
"Anyway. Scoring four goals and an assist against Barça Atlètic? Even in one game, that's worth recognizing. Fine, we'll sweeten the bonus options. We can discuss details with this agent..."
"Pfft!"
I finally burst out laughing.
The director tilted his head at me, and without a word to him, I pulled out my phone and made a call.
The other end picked up before the third ring.
I skipped greetings and got straight to it.
"Getafe made an offer, and I'm hearing them out, but can you take over? I've got plans later."
"Getafe? So you're at their club house right now?"
"No. Alcorcón's club house. They came all the way here—super polite."
A very brief silence came through the speaker.
Then his voice hit my ear.
"Call me Borja from now on. All my clients do."
"Got it, Borja. Looking forward to working with you."
"Same here. I'm on my way—head out of there now. I'll call when it's done."
I ended the call and looked at Getafe CF's sporting director, who wore a baffled expression.
"My agent's coming here. Talk to him instead. Borja Navas—you might know the name."
"...!"
At the mention of Borja Navas, the director's eyes widened visibly, even from here.
"If you'd had an agent, we could've..."
"I didn't. Until just now."
I shrugged and added, "I hired him on the spot."