There is a four-hour time difference between Spain and Argentina. It was already past two o'clock in the afternoon when the plane arrived in Barcelona.
Messi's father, Jorge, drove a car slowly on the streets of Les Corts district.
In the back seat, Chen Mo, holding a travel bag, half-squinted his eyes, enjoying the bright sunshine coming in from the window. Looking at the somewhat lazy Chen Mo through the rearview mirror, Jorge turned the steering wheel and said with a smile: "Training with those big kids during this period must be very tiring."
"It's okay. The training in terms of physical fitness and physical strength is indeed much higher than that of La Masia, but coach Pekerman sees that I am young, so he is not too demanding."
"Then this coach is very good. He gave you so many opportunities to play, but it was only because of your ability that you seized the opportunity. Oh, by the way, you mentioned Leon in front of reporters some time ago, and now we have re-signed with Barcelona. According to the contract, Leon’s salary has increased a lot, but it’s not good yet..."
"Please, Uncle Jorge, let's stop talking about this. My dad said that he and my mom were taken care of by you when they first arrived in Rosario."
"Hahaha, you're such a kid. Okay, you continue to sleep, and I'll yell at you in the restaurant."
Jorge looked grateful. Since experiencing Argentina's economic crisis and Messi's illness, their family has been in a very depressed state. Although they contacted Barcelona last year, it was not until the end of the Nike Hope Cup and Messi showed his extraordinary talent in the game that Barcelona began to bear the cost of Messi's treatment.
But even so, in order to pay off the debt they owed to Messi for medical treatment, the family was still living very hard. What Chen Mo said in front of reporters made Barcelona feel the crisis of poaching, and they wanted to give him money again. Messi's signing of a better-paying contract really helped them a lot.
"What a nice kid."
Holding the steering wheel, Jorge's eyes were full of emotions, but Chen Mo didn't take these things to heart. He was still half asleep and leaning on the seat to catch up on his sleep. At this moment, a burst of applause like a mountain roar and tsunami suddenly came from outside the car window.
Chen Mo opened his eyes slightly, looked through the glass window, and saw the majestic Camp Nou stadium.
"Uncle Jorge, is there a game today?"
"Well, Barcelona plays Valencia."
"If we play against Valencia, the fans won't be so excited."
Chen Mo was puzzled. The fans at Camp Nou were very arrogant, and the entire La Liga only paid attention to Real Madrid. He was a little curious when they were given such strong applause, and Jorge suddenly slapped his head: "Oh! I forgot to tell you, today is Mr. Guardiola’s final game.”
"Wha...what?! Curtain game?! Mr. Guardiola is leaving?!"
Disappearing in an instant, Chen Mo's eyes widened suddenly, and he leaned on the back of the seat. Jorge turned his head slightly and said with his forehead: "Yes, not long after you went to the training camp, Mr. Guardiola announced the end of the season. After leaving Barcelona, today is the last game. Leon and I are still discussing about finding an opportunity to treat him to a meal in the next two days to thank him for his cultivation during this period."
The last game? !
Jorge rambled on, and Chen Mo was confused for a moment, staring at the Camp Nou stadium outside the window, "Uncle Jorge, stop for a moment, I have to go see Mr. Guardiola."
"no problem."
Jorge braked, stopped on the side of the road, turned over his shoulder and shouted to Chen Mo who got out of the car: "You'd better find a way to get into the locker room, otherwise Mr. Guardiola will drive away directly after the game."
"knew!"
After closing the car door, Chen Mo rubbed his cheeks and took advantage of the passing cars not paying attention. He strode his long legs directly across the road to the Camp Nou stadium. He had no tickets, but as a well-known local genius, the security personnel did not make things difficult and directly Let him in.
The stadium is easy to enter, but the locker room is difficult to enter.
Standing in the stadium hall, Chen Mo hesitated for a moment and went straight to the men's room. He stepped on the toilet seat and took off the iron grating of the ventilation duct on tiptoes. He pulled his arms and exerted force on his waist and abdomen. He looked like someone from Mission Impossible. Agents generally drill into pipes.
"Wardfa?!"
The British fans who were shaking their big machine guns in front of the urinal turned around and were stunned when they saw this scene.
There was a lot of dust in the ventilation duct, and Chen Mo crawled forward on his hands and feet. As a member of La Masia, they naturally have admiration and curiosity for the Camp Nou dressing room. In addition, Pique, the grandson of the former vice president, likes to act like a monster. They had entered through this special passage in the middle of the night a long time ago. Passing the Barcelona dressing room.
Crawling forward on hands and feet, he went around several corners. Soon a new vent appeared not far away, and the sound of gurgling water came from below.
"They've gone back to the locker room?"
Looking at the bathing figures below, Chen Mo was embarrassed. Everyone was taking a shower, and then a big living person suddenly jumped out...
"do not care!"
As soon as he thought of it, Chen Mo pulled up the iron fence, hooked both sides of the pipe mouth with his backhand, and was about to lower his body. At this moment, the wall suddenly collapsed!
"boom--"
"pain..."
The ventilation duct was bent, and Chen Mo fell directly to the ground, with dust all over his face. When he rubbed his butt and reluctantly opened his eyes, he found four or five stunned naked men standing in front of him. Some of them were brushing their teeth. Someone is rubbing their hair, someone is applying soap...
"Oh my god, what's going on?!"
"Oh! It's a thief!"
"catch him!"
Several people were arguing. At this time, a muscular player poked his head out from the crowd and his eyes widened when he saw Chen Mo's dusty facial features.
"Xiao Mo?!"
"Heh...heh...Mr. Enrique..."
.
Five minutes later, Barcelona locker room.
A series of players such as Kluivert, Petit, Overmars, Rivaldo, Enrique, Xavi, Iniesta, etc. were changing clothes and chatting, and from time to time they would cast their smiling eyes on wardrobe No. 4. direction.
Chen Mo, who had just washed the dust off his head and had wet hair, sat next to Guardiola, as obedient as a baby.
"Have you watched too many movies? You actually walked out of the ventilation duct..."
Guardiola put on a gray T-shirt and rolled his eyes, but his eyes revealed more of a smile. Chen Mo shrugged, spread his hands, and whispered: "I can't help it, the management won't let me enter the locker room."
As soon as these words came out, the other players who were changing clothes next to them all snickered, and Rexach, who had gray hair on his temples, even laughed and said: "I have long heard from Zach and Joseph that you are a brave little guy. Now it seems that you They are bolder than we thought."
"Sorry, Mr. Rexach."
Chen Mo still had great respect for Rexach, the kind old coach. As for Chen Mo, the young genius who was brought to La Masia by himself, Rexach was also very fond of him. He waved his hand and said with a smile: "Okay. It’s not a big deal, I just need to pay for the repair costs.”
"..."
Chen Mo had a bitter face. Next to him, a sturdy young man with curly hair who looked like a Teddy was wearing socks, winking and smiling: "Haha, this maintenance fee is just a small amount for a little genius like you who shined at the World Youth Championship. For a small amount of money, I can accept any endorsements or whatever."
"Oh, Pui, please stop teasing me."
Chen Mo rolled his eyes. Puyol is a Spaniard, and Guardiola is also a Spaniard. They both belong to the "Spanish Gang" camp in the Barcelona locker room, and he was once a student of coach Zac, so the two have had some interactions.
The two were chatting, and two old acquaintances, Xavi and Iniesta, joined in. Next to them, Rivaldo and Enrique were secretly observing in their socks. Enrique smiled and said: "This little guy was in the World Youth Championship." After killing your Brazil, why don’t you teach him a lesson?”
"Oh please, don't make me sound like a villain."
Rivaldo smiled and shook his head, but his eyes were looking at Chen Mo's profile.
The first time he heard the name Chen Mo was because compatriot Ronaldo had publicly praised Chen Mo, but he didn't pay much attention to it at that time. It wasn't until later that Guardiola and Enrique frequently went to La Masia, and the reason turned out to be to accompany him. Two little guys from the youth training camp played football. At that time, the name Chen Mo completely left an impression on him. He thought this was the limit, but some time ago, this little guy actually helped the team defeat his country in the World Youth Championship. The National Youth Team!
As a Brazilian, he naturally knows something about the young talents in his country. Those players are definitely the top level in the U20 team. This fourteen-year-old kid can actually perform well in such a game!
"Coach Rexach really found a good prospect, but his character is a bit too crazy. He even climbed into the ventilation duct in order to enter the locker room..."
