"My son is a genius!" Alfonso Morata said angrily.
The father was furious. He had brought his son to Real Madrid for a trial. However, the coach of Real Madrid's under-13 Team A only let his son run a few sprints with the ball and practice a few shots before he waved them away.
It was a perfunctory job. He did not give his son a chance to show his talent. Morata's father immediately realized that the coach did not give his son a chance to have a fair trial.
"Genius?" Perez, the head coach of Real Madrid's under-13 Team A, glanced at the cowardly child. "Haha, he said his son is a genius?"
The surrounding staff members all laughed. Of course, there were some who could not bear it and thought that Perez had gone too far.
"B * stard! I said my son is a genius. His talent in football is recognized. " Morata's father's eyes were red. He glanced at his son quietly. The poor child was being ridiculed. His head drooped and his little face was covered in tears.
"It's not up to you to decide if he's a genius or not!" Perez said. "It's up to us! Take your son and leave. "He waved his hand and laughed contemptuously. It was as if he was waving away an annoying fly.
*****
Alfonso Morata flew into a rage. His son was the apple of his eye, the apple of his eye. His son, who was already lacking in self-confidence, was humiliated in such a manner. It was the cruelest thing for a child to suffer.
"B * stard!" Morata's father rushed up and was about to punch the head coach of Real Madrid's under-13 Team A in the face. Then, he was held back by the other staff.
"Security! Security! " Perez was shocked. The 190-centimeter tall man in front of him brought him great fear. He thought about how he was almost beaten up and screamed, "Someone, security! Yes, call the police! Call the police! "
Cadredick, the assistant coach next to him, could not stand it anymore. He came over and said, "Just ask them to leave. There's no need to call the police." He lowered his voice and said to Perez, "If this matter gets out …"
Perez glared fiercely at Cadreidk. He understood what the other party meant. This matter was basically their fault. Because of Candelaria's instructions, they did not give this child a fair trial at all. Instead, they humiliated him. If this matter was exposed, it would definitely be a scandal for Real Madrid to treat a child who came for a trial like this.
Perez waved his hand and motioned for the security to drag the father and son out.
"Let go! Let go! "Morata's father, who was being held up by a few people, shouted.
"Don't hurt my father." Little Morata cried, looking particularly helpless at the side.
"Son!"
"Dad!"
Little Morata suddenly rushed up and gave a security guard a punch. The latter was about to fight back.
"Assistant!" Morata's father shouted angrily when he saw that the other party was going to attack a child. "We'll leave on our own! "Don't do it!"
He broke free from the pull and came up to hug his son. He patted his son's head and then held his son's hand.
"Son, raise your head!" Morata's father suddenly roared.
Little Morata raised his head and looked at the Real Madrid coaches and staff. Perez was sneering, and a few others were watching coldly from the side. Some of them did not dare to look the child in the eye.
"Son, remember!" Morata's father said to his son. "Do you remember what the gentleman just said? You are a genius. Remember, you are a genius! It's just that some people are blind! "
Morata watched all of this in silence.
"Remember, remember what happened today." He touched his son's head and looked at the crowd. He pointed his finger and said, "You will regret it!"
"My son is a genius! You will regret what you have done today! "
With that, the father held his sad and silent son's hand and turned to leave.
The Real Madrid people looked at the backs of the father and son and were silent for a moment.
"Ha, Real Madrid will regret it?" Someone sneered. "They really dare to say that."
Cadreidk glanced at the person and snorted. He said to Manager Perez, "We went too far in this matter! This is not something a club like Real Madrid should do! I am ashamed! "
With that, he chased after them. He felt that he needed to apologize to the father and son.
This was a father and son who yearned for Real Madrid. The child was still wearing the Real Madrid jersey, but he was treated like this. It was really wrong.
Cadreidk chased after them, but he did not see the father and son.
He let out a long sigh. He roared angrily.
Damn Candelaria and the youth director, Rodriguez. It was all because of these people that Real Madrid's youth department was in a mess.
*****
At the entrance of Chamadine Training Base, the guard looked at the embarrassed father and son with some surprise.
"Dad, it's my fault. I made you suffer." Morata, who had been silent, suddenly said, "If I had performed well, you wouldn't have …"
"No, son." Morata put his arm around his son's shoulder. "You did well. You were outstanding. Really. They didn't have the foresight. You were great! "
The father and son walked slowly, side by side.
"Dad."
"Yes, son."
"I really wanted to perform well today, Dad."
"Son, I know. You were great."
Little Morata was silent for a while.
"Son, I'll call a taxi." Morata's father took out his phone and called for a taxi.
Little Morata stood on the side of the road and turned his head to look. The gate of Chamadine Training Base was faintly visible. The gate was open, but in the child's heart, it was tightly shut.
After the phone call, Morata's father looked back and saw this scene. His heart ached.
He walked over. "Son, you have to raise your head! You have to believe in yourself. They were blind! But have you forgotten that someone appreciates you? " Alfonso Morata just wanted to comfort his son. At this moment, he thought of Li Ang and immediately found a straw to clutch at. He knew that he had to give his son confidence now. Otherwise, his son would not be able to recover from this setback. "Son, do you still remember Li? The Sporting de Gijón coach. "
Hearing his father mention the name of the Sporting de Gijón coach, Morata looked up at his father and nodded.
"Do you remember what he said?" Morata's father looked at his son and conveyed confidence with his eyes and voice. "He said that you are a genius. He said that you have a pair of feet that are numb to goals!"
Little Morata looked at his feet. He was a genius?! Was this a pair of feet that were numb to goals?!
The child was a little confused. Today's setback, being humiliated by the Real Madrid coach, was almost a cruel blow to this child.
"Son, what do you think of Li? Is he a good coach? "Morata's father suddenly asked.
Little Morata hesitated and then nodded.
Alfonso Morata took a deep breath.
He patted his son on the shoulder.
"Let's go, son."
"Where are we going, Dad?"
"Let's go back and pack up." Morata's father looked at the taxi coming over. "Then, let's go to Gihon!"
"Get in, son," Morata's father shouted.
The father and son got in the car and his father told the taxi driver the address.
The car turned around and drove away.
Little Morata looked back. Chamadine Base was far away and finally out of sight.
His father's voice echoed in his ears. "Go to Gihon!
Go to Gihon! "
PS: Thank you to readers Moonlight's Udon, Berserk Beetle, Nirvana Free, and Night Rain Gloomy for their tips and likes.
Thank you for your favorites, recommendations, and support.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
