The Call From Spain
Cristiano sat in his apartment
Legs in ice
TV playing highlights from his last match
Two goals
One assist
But still not smiling
His phone lit up
Unknown number
Spanish code
He answered
We want you
We'll build the team around you
We'll give you the number you were born for
The voice from Madrid was clear
Calm
Deadly tempting
He didn't reply
Not yet
But his mind stirred
The white jersey
The bright lights of the Bernabéu
The history
The pressure
The challenge
The next morning
He trained harder
Like running from the question
But the offer didn't leave
It followed him
In the locker room
On the pitch
In his sleep
Sir Alex saw the weight in his eyes
Called him in
Cristiano
You've given us everything
But if your soul needs a new mountain
Climb it
Just make sure it's not for money
Not for fame
Only for legacy
Cristiano nodded
Didn't answer
That weekend
He scored a hat trick
Didn't smile once
After the third goal
He just stood
Looked around the stadium
As if memorizing it
The press exploded
Rumors flew
Madrid this
United that
Cristiano quiet
He blocked it all
But one night
He stood alone on the empty pitch after training
Looked up at the stars
He whispered
Is this still where I grow
Or is it where I stop