⚽ Football Reborn: The Manager from the Future
Chapter 8 – A Flight to Rosario, A Seed of Greatness
Two days after the Spennymoor victory, Ethan Ray was 6,000 miles away, staring out the window of a rattling bus in Rosario, Argentina. Dust clung to the glass, and distant church bells echoed across the rooftops of the old industrial town. This wasn't a scouting trip—it was a pilgrimage.
And the shrine? La Bajada, a humble neighborhood that just so happened to be the birthplace of a kid named Lionel Andrés Messi.
Ethan had spent the night before poring over the AI's profile:
Age: 11
Position: Attacking midfielder / false nine prototype
Current club: Newell's Old Boys (youth level)
Medical flag: Growth hormone deficiency – pending diagnosis
Talent Index: 98/100 – generational
The AI had made one thing crystal clear:
⚠️ "Without early intervention and trust, he is never discovered. Barcelona only signs him under conditions Darlington can now replicate. Offer medical support. Secure family stability. Approach father Jorge first."
Now, as the bus rattled to a halt and the doors hissed open, Ethan stepped out into the dry heat of Rosario, the contract folder tucked under his arm.
He didn't go to the training ground first.
Instead, he followed the directions from the AI until he found himself on a cracked street corner where neighborhood kids were playing barefoot football with a tattered ball. A tiny figure darted between them, cutting angles so sharply defenders tripped over themselves.
Messi.
He was smaller than the rest—noticeably so—but his balance was perfect. He barely touched the ground. Ethan stood frozen. He'd seen this motion before—in grainy YouTube videos and Champions League finals. But to see it in real-time, before the fame, before the world knew the name?
It hit like a prophecy.
A man leaned on the gate nearby, sipping mate from a silver gourd. Jorge Messi.
Ethan approached cautiously. "Señor Messi?"
Jorge turned, guarded. "Sí?"
"I'm from England," Ethan began, switching to Spanish, aided subtly by the AI in his earpiece. "I've come here because of your son."
Jorge's eyes narrowed. "He already plays for Newell's. He's not for sale."
"I'm not here to buy," Ethan said calmly. "I'm here to believe in him."
He pulled out the folder.
"This is a full development program. Medical support included. Training, education, a home for your family in England if needed."
Jorge opened the folder and skimmed the translated pages. His brow furrowed at the medical clause.
"You know about the hormone issue?"
"Yes. And I know most clubs won't cover the cost. But we will."
Jorge looked up sharply. "Why would a club from the fifth division of England offer this to a boy no one's heard of?"
Ethan hesitated, then told a piece of the truth.
"Because I've seen what happens when someone gives your son a chance. He becomes a name every child in the world knows. One of the greatest who ever lived."
Silence.
Then Jorge looked toward the pitch. Lionel had just scored, skipping past three kids and chipping the ball effortlessly.
"I've had ten scouts watch him," Jorge said, not taking his eyes off his son. "They all said the same thing—too small, too weak, too fragile."
"They're blind," Ethan replied.
That evening, Ethan sat in the modest kitchen of the Messi household, sipping mate across from Lionel's mother, Celia. The boy sat at the end of the table, shy, watching him with quiet curiosity.
Ethan leaned forward.
"Do you want to play in Europe one day, Leo?"
Lionel nodded slowly.
Ethan smiled. "Then come to England. Train with us. We'll help you grow, on and off the pitch."
Lionel whispered a single word in Spanish: "Sí."
Jorge signed the agreement that night.
Back at his hotel, the AI chimed:
✅ Lionel Messi: Developmental Offer Accepted
Medical program scheduled. Family relocation optional.
Projected first-team debut: age 15 (accelerated).
Ethan looked out the window at the orange glow of Rosario's skyline.
He'd just changed football history.
And no one even knew it yet.