Messi Read Online Free

charge of the academy (Quimet Rifét, Quique Costas, Juan Manuel Asensi, the coaches Rodolfo Borrell, Xavi Llorenç and Albert Benaiges) met on pitches two and three next to the Mini Stadium, one with grass and the other with artificial turf, to follow the progress of the group and especially the new boy.
    Charly Rexach was not present, having gone to Australia to watch the games at the Sydney Olympic football tournament that was packed with well-known young players (among them Tamudo, Xavi, Puyol, Zamorano, Suazo, Mboma, Lauren and Eto’o). But in truth the matter of a young Argentinian boy did not require his presence: his prime responsibility lay with making decisions about the first team, not the academy. If down in that cauldron of talented youth they could all agree, then the boy recommended by Minguellawould be signed. If not, he wouldn’t. Charly had arranged the trial; for the time being he didn’t have to do much else.
    Messi felt calm as he made his way to his first day of training. Still a bit nauseous after the exertions of his journey, but he was there because this was what he had wanted and what he had fantasised about. He had a week at most (he had to go back to school) to demonstrate what he could do with the ball. That was the easy part.
    Imagine never having seen the Camp Nou or the Mini Stadium. Leo hadn’t.
    Arriving at the pitches adjacent to the Mini, a Camp Nou in miniature, ‘the Flea’ hesitated before entering the dressing rooms. He felt embarrassed walking in by himself. His shyness (no, he is not shy, he is reserved) is extreme. He started to get changed outside the locker room and ended up doing so inside, away from the rest of the group. In a corner with no one nearby. Standing up. Tense.
    Imagine never having seen Lionel Messi. Like that group of players of the same age, or those coaches who had only briefly heard of him.
    ‘He’s so small,’ said the youngsters. Rodo was in the dressing room. ‘Sit down, young man,’ he said to Leo. The kid hadn’t said hello when he entered. Or, the noise he made when he came in did not sound like a greeting; it didn’t seem like a friendly hello.
    For Cesc, for Piqué, who were also getting changed, the Argentinian was just another kid coming for a trial with Barcelona. They were rarely foreigners, but occasionally one or two were. A few new boys every month. Rodo approached the group while Leo was changing in the corner. ‘Be careful with him, he’s very small, don’t break him.’
    Piqué: In that first week, Leo was isolated, very isolated. If there was a group of people talking or having a laugh, he was on the bench, right at the end, very reluctant. Quiet. Introverted.
    Cesc: So many new players came that we didn’t attach any importance to it, but I remember perfectly well his first day.
    The young players were giving him mocking looks. Messi was bandaging his ankles.
    Piqué: He was very short, he hardly said a word and no one could have imagined what was going to happen.
    He measured one metre and forty-eight centimetres – four foot ten and a quarter inches.
    Cesc: He had longish hair, and spoke soft, quiet Argentinian so you could hardly hear him. In fact, he hardly spoke at all. He was a noodle. We thought, this bloke is a waste of space. …
    That was the general consensus.
    One of Borrell’s assistants was worried. He saw how he was putting on bandages and asked him if he was injured. No, no, it’s an Argentinian custom. To prevent sprains.
    Leo said nothing.
    The jokes kept coming from the group of 12- and 13-year-old boys. ‘The bloke’s a midget.’
    Messi ran onto the pitch next to Piqué, who looked twice his size. Leo came up to his waist.
    Jorge was in the stands and heard what was being said. ‘He’s very small, he’s too small.’
    The group began to warm up. Always with the ball. Firstly, it was all about controlling the ball. One touch, two, three … ten, eleven, twelve … ‘He’s not dropping the ball,’