Chapter 43 – The Late Hero

It was matchday again, and the Camp Nou pulsed with quiet intensity as the players filed into the locker room. The clash against Getafe wasn't expected to be flashy or glamorous, but everyone knew it wouldn't be easy. Getafe always came to fight. No moment of carelessness would go unpunished, no run untracked.

The locker room was calm, the walls vibrating faintly from the fans chanting outside. Players moved with silent focus—taping ankles, tightening laces, sipping electrolytes. Then, the door opened, and Hansi Flick walked in, clipboard in hand, with his staff following behind. He didn't waste time. Everyone quieted instantly.

"Alright," he began, his voice steady but energized. "This is who's starting today."

He turned the clipboard to face the room.

Starting XI:Goalkeeper: Iñaki PeñaDefenders: Araujo, Cubarsí, Balde, KoundéMidfielders: Pedri, Marc Casadó, GaviForwards: Lamine Yamal, Lewandowski, Luca (#80)

A few nods. Some fist bumps. Luca glanced around, heart pounding faster. Another start. Another chance. And this time, he could feel the weight on his shoulders—not crushing, but real. This wasn't just another game. With Raphinha still out, Luca had to prove he could carry more than just potential.

Flick folded his arms. "They'll come at us physically. That's what they do. They'll press Pedri. Try to isolate Lamine. Target Lewy in the air. That's fine. We control the game through our tempo. Don't lose yourselves in their chaos."

He looked around the room, locking eyes with players one by one.

"Luca," he said, "today, I want you to be bold. You feel the rhythm? Take it. This team needs risk. And you've got it in you."

Luca nodded. "Yes, coach."

Flick smiled faintly. "Good."

First Half – Frustration in Motion

The opening whistle blew, and from the first few minutes, it was clear Getafe came with a plan—to close space and choke the tempo. The blocks were tight. The tackles firm. Lewandowski was being shadowed by two center-backs. Every time Lamine got the ball, two defenders swarmed him.

Barcelona tried to play between the lines. Pedri moved the ball with elegance. Casadó won back possession like a seasoned pro. But clear chances were rare. Luca drifted inside from the left, trying to combine with Gavi and Lewy, but the final ball wasn't clicking.

In the 24th minute, Getafe struck. A long ball behind the line caught the defense slightly too high. Araujo tried to recover, but the Getafe striker slipped the ball past Peña and into the net.

0–1.

Camp Nou groaned, and Flick turned to his bench, arms crossed. No panic. But everyone could feel it: Barcelona needed to wake up.

The response came just before halftime.

In the 43rd minute, Pedri dropped deep and found Koundé on the right. The Frenchman played a quick one-two with Lamine, who then floated a delicate ball into the box. Lewandowski rose, shook off his marker, and powered a header into the bottom corner.

GOAL!Barcelona 1 – 1 Getafe

The stadium erupted, and the team huddled quickly before jogging back to position. The job was far from done.

Halftime – Calm in the Storm

Back in the locker room, Flick didn't raise his voice.

"We knew they'd make it hard. Now, it's our turn. Keep the tempo high. Move them side to side. Keep going until they break."

He turned to Luca.

"You're playing well. Don't be afraid to attack the gaps behind their line. Pedri will find you. If they give you a look at goal—take it."

Luca took a deep breath. He could feel the electricity in his legs.

"Yes, coach."

Second Half – Knock, Knock, Knock

Barcelona dominated possession. Pass after pass, run after run, they chipped away at Getafe's shape. Luca had a chance in the 53rd minute—a quick ball from Pedri sent him racing down the left. He cut inside, curled a shot toward the far post—but it whisked just wide.

Lamine had a similar chance minutes later, slicing inside from the right, but his effort was saved.

Time ticked.

60 minutes.70 minutes.75 minutes.

Getafe bunkered in. Every player behind the ball. Barcelona threw everything at them, but the breakthrough wouldn't come.

Then, in the 85th minute—magic.

85th Minute – A Touch of Class

It started with Gavi, bulldozing through two Getafe midfielders with sheer grit and heart. He passed it to Casadó, who turned and quickly shifted it to Pedri. A wave of movement began—Lamine drifted wide, Lewy checked deep, and Luca darted into the space behind.

Pedri saw it.

One delicate chip, perfectly weighted, dropped behind the defender.

Luca took it down with his left foot, controlled it into space with his right, and struck it low with venom into the bottom left corner.

GOAL!!!

Barcelona 2 – 1 Getafe

The Camp Nou exploded. Luca ran straight to the corner flag, sliding on his knees as the rest of the team swarmed him. Lamine jumped on his back. Gavi roared beside him. Lewandowski patted his head with a grin.

Up in the stands, the crowd chanted his name.

"LU-CA! LU-CA!"

His first late winner. His biggest goal yet.

Full-Time – Applause and Fireworks

The whistle blew after four more tense minutes. Getafe tried to respond, but Araujo and Cubarsí were solid as stone. Peña made a crucial save in the 88th minute, ensuring the three points stayed home.

Final score:Barcelona 2 – 1 Getafe

As the players walked off, Flick waited near the tunnel. He pulled Luca aside, smiling.

"You want the ball?"

Luca blinked. "What?"

"Your first late winner at Camp Nou. You want the match ball?"

Luca laughed, breathless. "Yeah. I do."

Flick handed it to him. "Good. Because I think it's the first of many."