God Of football - Chapter 219

Chapter 219: Underway Chapter 219: Underway The sun began to set over the vibrant city of Valencia, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple as the Camp de Mestalla buzzed with anticipation.  Thousands of Valencia fans had gathered hours before kickoff, their chants echoing through the surrounding streets, creating a carnival-like atmosphere.  Every corner of the city seemed to be alive with the sound of drums, flares, and songs celebrating their beloved team.  This wasn’t just any match-it was Valencia against Barcelona, one of the most anticipated fixtures of the season.

A fleet of buses pulled up outside the stadium, and the crowd roared as the first one came into view.  It was Barcelona’s team bus, its sleek design adorned with the club’s iconic crest.

Security formed a tight cordon as the doors opened and the players began to disembark.  The likes of Lewandowski, Pedri, and GündoÄŸan stepped off, their faces a mix of calm focus and quiet confidence followed by another gem of a player who had been turning heads whenever he played.

“Lamine, Lamine.

Can I get a picture” a fan said to Yamal as he joined his group.

Dressed sharply in their navy suits, they carried an air of professionalism that only heightened the tension in the air.  The home fans jeered and whistled as the Catalan giants entered the stadium, the hostility a reminder that they were stepping into enemy territory.

Moments later, the unmistakable Valencia team bus arrived, greeted by a deafening roar that shook the very foundation of Mestalla.  Fans waved flags, held up scarves, and chanted, “¡Amunt Valencia!” in unison.  The players could feel the energy even before stepping off the bus.

This was their fortress, their city, and their people.

As the doors opened, Izan was one of the first players to emerge, dressed in Valencia’s signature black-and-orange tracksuit.

The young star was met with cheers that bordered on worship.  Fans surged forward, waving jerseys, footballs, and scraps of paper, desperate for a moment of his time.

Izan smiled, his face lighting up as he stepped closer to the crowd.

“¡Izan!

¡Izan!” they called, holding out pens and phones.

He crouched slightly to sign a young boy’s jersey, ruffling the kid’s hair with a grin before moving on to the next.  The crowd’s admiration was palpable, their belief in him unwavering.

“Can you score for us tonight?” a fan shouted.

Izan laughed, shaking his head playfully.

“We’ll see what the coach decides, but I’ll give everything I’ve got.” As he made his way along the line of supporters, his interactions felt genuine, almost familial.

He paused for selfies, exchanged handshakes, and thanked fans for their support.  His humility stood out even as the pressure of the occasion loomed.  Nearby, other players, including captain José Gayà, also took time to engage with fans, the unity between the team and the supporters evident in every gesture.

After the interaction with the fans, the players walked inside the stadium where the energy from the fans outside seemed to follow them, buzzing in the air around them as they made their way into the Mestalla.  The corridor leading to the locker room was narrow, the walls adorned with photos of Valencia legends and historic moments.  Each step felt heavier with the weight of the club’s legacy, but the players carried themselves with a mix of determination and camaraderie, feeding off each other’s confidence.

José Gayà, ever the leader, walked at the front, his voice carrying above the sound of footsteps.

“Alright, lads, this is our night.

Let’s remind everyone who we are.”  Behind him, Hugo Duro and Thierry Correia joked lightly, their laughter breaking the tension in the air.

“Thierry, if I get the ball in their box, you better be making that overlapping run,” Hugo teased, flashing a grin.

“Relax, Hugo,” Thierry shot back with a smirk.

“I’ll probably have to clean up after your missed shots instead.” The group erupted into light chuckles, the banter easing their nerves.

Even Baraja, walking a few steps behind, smiled faintly at their exchange.

Izan was quieter as he walked with Javi Guerra and André Almeida, his earbuds around his neck but no music playing.  The group’s laughter echoed down the hall, a reminder that despite the pressure, this was still a team united by friendship.

As they approached the locker room door, Baraja’s voice cut through the chatter.

“Alright, enough jokes now.

Focus up.

This is where the real work begins.” The players nodded, the shift in atmosphere immediate.

The joking eased, replaced by quiet determination.  They filed into the locker room, each player taking their place.

Izan looked around, catching the serious expressions on the faces of his teammates.  ….

Inside the stadium, the atmosphere grew even more electric.  The stands were filling quickly, the fans transforming Mestalla into a cauldron of noise and color.  The players could hear the chants from the locker rooms, a steady reminder of the passion that would drive them on the pitch.

The roar of the crowd reverberated through the stadium, shaking the very foundations of the pitch.  The Valencia faithful were in full voice, waving scarves and flags, their chants drown out any nervous energy that may have lingered.

Izan jogged out with his teammates, his cleats tapping against the freshly watered grass as they came out for their warm-ups.

He took a deep breath, taking in the sight of the packed stands, the sea of orange and black creating an almost magical backdrop.  This was home, and every corner of Mestalla seemed to echo its unwavering belief in the team.

As Izan began his stretches near the halfway line, he caught sight of Pedri across the field, leading Barcelona’s warm-up.  The Barcelona midfielder spotted him too and jogged over, a sly grin on his face.

“Haven’t heard from you in a bit.

You ready for this?” Pedri asked, playfully nudging Izan as he reached him.

Izan smirked, rolling his shoulders.

“Always.

The real question is if you’re ready to spend ninety minutes chasing shadows.” Pedri laughed, shaking his head.

“Big talk for someone who’s starting on the bench.

But don’t worry, I’ll save some energy for when you come on.” Their easy banter drew a few glances from nearby teammates, but neither seemed to care.  Despite the rivalry, there was mutual respect-a shared understanding of the pressure that came with being a young star in La Liga.

After finishing their warm-ups, the players from both sides returned to their locker rooms to get ready for the game.

…..

After both sets of players were done with their preparations, they came out of the tunnel under the fiery chants of the crowd.

With the referee leading, the players underwent the pre-match pleasantries.

“Welcome to the Mestalla where are in for arguably the biggest matchup of the matchday.

It is Barcelona facing Valencia here at the Camp De Mestalla.

My name is Juan Hernan and I’ll be your commentator for this game.

Joining me is expert analyst Jorge Savin.

Good evening Jorge and welcome to this exciting fixture…” As the players finished the pre-match pleasantries and took their positions, the stadium announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the starting lineups to the roaring crowd.  The excitement in the Mestalla grew louder with each name called, every fan eagerly anticipating the showdown against the Catalan giants.

Valencia Starting XI (4-4-2) Goalkeeper: Giorgi Mamardashvili Defenders: Thierry Correia, Gabriel Paulista, Mouctar Diakhaby, José Gayà (C) Midfielders: Fran Pérez, Hugo Guillamón, Pepelu, Diego López Forwards: Hugo Duro, André Almeida Substitutes: Cristian Rivero, Dimitri Foulquier, Cristhian Mosquera, Javi Guerra, Jesús Vázquez, Selim Amallah, Pablo Gozálbez, Izan, Alberto Marí The Mestalla erupted when the announcer mentioned Izan’s name, even though he was starting on the bench.  The young star had become the face of Valencia’s resurgence, and his presence alone felt like a talisman for the fans.

Barcelona Starting XI (4-3-3) Goalkeeper: Marc-André ter Stegen Defenders: Joao Cancelo, Jules Koundé, Andreas Christensen, Alejandro Balde Midfielders: Frenkie de Jong, Ilkay GündoÄŸan, Pedri Forwards: Lamine Yamal, Robert Lewandowski, Gavi Substitutes: Iñaki Peña, Marcos Alonso, Eric García, Ferran Torres, Oriol Romeu, Raphinha, Ronald Araújo, Fermin Lopez, Ansu Fati “As the referee prepares to blow the whistle, the atmosphere here at the Mestalla is nothing short of extraordinary.  Valencia’s passionate supporters have turned this historic stadium into a cauldron of noise, and their players will need every ounce of that energy tonight against a Barcelona side brimming with world-class talent.

For Valencia, it’s a night to stand tall.

Baraja has gone with a balanced lineup, relying on Hugo Duro and André Almeida to spearhead the attack, while young sensation Izan starts on the bench, a weapon Baraja could unleash later in the game.

On the other side, Xavi’s Barcelona has brought their heavy hitters-Lewandowski, Pedri, and the ever-dynamic Lamine Yamal, a player who seems to thrive in big moments.  The battle between youth and experience promises to be one for the ages.

The referee glances at his watch… the whistle blows… and we’re underway at the Mestalla!” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Art233 Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

Give me more motivation!