20: Turning the Tide

The decision to walk away from Herrera's offer felt both liberating and terrifying for Carlos. He had chosen to stay true to himself, but now came the harder part—proving to himself and everyone else that he was right.

Carlos threw himself into training with a renewed focus. Every morning, he was at the park before sunrise, Chico dancing under his feet as he worked on his control, speed, and precision. Navarro had noticed the change in his demeanor and increased the intensity of the drills, testing Carlos at every turn.

"You've got the talent, Carlos," Navarro said one day after an exhausting session. "But talent isn't enough. What separates the greats is their ability to adapt. Let's see how you handle something new tomorrow."

Carlos nodded, his chest heaving from the sprints. He didn't need words; his determination was written in every drop of sweat.

The next day, Navarro introduced a new challenge. Carlos would play a series of small-sided games against different groups of players, each with a unique style. Some were quick and technical, others physical and relentless. Carlos would have to adjust his game on the fly.

The first match was against a trio of older, more experienced players who relied on precise passing and movement. Carlos struggled at first, chasing shadows as they outmaneuvered him. But he began to anticipate their patterns, intercepting a pass and countering with a quick turn and strike that found the net.

By the end of the session, Carlos had played five matches, each testing a different aspect of his game. He won some and lost others, but each match left him stronger and more aware of his weaknesses.

"You're learning," Navarro said with a nod of approval. "Keep this up, and you'll be ready for whatever comes next."

As Carlos honed his skills, life outside the pitch was changing too. News of his performance in the trial had spread, and local kids began to see him as more than just a talented player. They saw him as someone who could make it big—someone they could look up to.

One afternoon, as Carlos was finishing his drills, a group of younger boys approached him, their eyes wide with admiration.

"Carlos, can you show us how to dribble like you?" one of them asked, holding a scuffed ball.

Carlos smiled, touched by their enthusiasm. "Of course. Let's start with the basics."

He spent the next hour teaching them simple moves, laughing as they stumbled and cheered each other on. For the first time, Carlos felt a new kind of responsibility—a sense that his journey wasn't just about him.

Meanwhile, Diego had been keeping his distance since their conversation about Herrera, but one evening, he showed up at the park.

"Still training like a maniac, I see," Diego said, crossing his arms.

Carlos glanced at him, smirking. "Still pretending not to care, I see."

Diego chuckled, but his expression grew serious. "Listen, Carlos. I know I've been tough on you, but it's because I see how far you can go. Just... don't let anyone take that away from you. Not Herrera, not anyone."

Carlos nodded, surprised by the sincerity in Diego's voice. "Thanks. I won't."

One evening, as Carlos was packing up his things, Navarro approached him with a determined look.

"There's something you need to know," Navarro said. "A scout from another club—Real Azul—is coming to watch a local match this weekend. I've arranged for you to play in it."

Carlos' eyes widened. Real Azul was one of the top clubs in the region, known for their emphasis on nurturing young talent.

"You've got one chance to impress them," Navarro continued. "Show them what I see in you every day."

The matchday arrived, and Carlos felt the familiar mix of nerves and excitement as he laced up his boots. The field buzzed with energy as the players warmed up, the scout sitting quietly in the stands with a notebook in hand.

Carlos' team was made up of local talents, many of whom he'd played against in the past. Their opponents were a tough side from a neighboring town, known for their aggressive style.

The game started at a frenetic pace, and Carlos quickly found himself under pressure. The opposing midfielders closed him down relentlessly, forcing him to think and act faster than ever.

But Carlos had spent weeks preparing for moments like this. He began to adapt, using quick one-touch passes to evade the press and create space. His vision allowed him to pick out teammates with precise through balls, and his confidence grew with every successful play.

In the second half, with the score tied at 1-1, Carlos received the ball just outside the box. A defender rushed toward him, but Carlos feinted left before cutting right, leaving the defender off balance. He struck the ball with precision, and it curled past the goalkeeper into the top corner.

The crowd erupted, and Carlos' teammates swarmed him, celebrating the goal. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the scout jotting something down with a nod of approval.

After the match, Navarro found Carlos sitting on the bench, his face glowing with pride.

"You played like a true professional today," Navarro said. "I'm proud of you."

Before Carlos could respond, the scout approached, a business card in hand.

"Carlos Vargas," the scout said, extending his hand. "I'm Javier Ortiz from Real Azul. I've been watching you, and I think you have what it takes to succeed at the next level. If you're interested, I'd like to invite you to our academy for an official trial."

Carlos shook his hand, the weight of the moment sinking in. This was another chance—one that felt more genuine and aligned with his journey.

"I'll be there," Carlos said, his voice steady with determination.

As the scout walked away, Carlos turned to Navarro, who gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

"You've earned this, Carlos. Now go show them what you're made of."

Carlos nodded, a fire burning in his chest. The tide was turning, and he was ready to ride the wave to greatness.