I Am Jose

Everyone has a soft spot in their heart—José does, and so does Matías.

Despite his brash personality and reckless attitude, Matías had someone he could never let go of—his father, an ordinary construction worker who tirelessly supported his son's football dream. He ran all over town, begging for opportunities, yet Matías' temper led him to a nomadic youth career. From Real Madrid's youth academy to Getafe's, he had offended plenty along the way. If it weren't for José recognizing his potential, Matías might have already quit football and joined his father on a construction site.

Now, things were different. He had secured a contract with Mallorca B, earning $260 a week—over $10,000 a year. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to live on without burdening his father. At least his old man wouldn't have to break his back with hard labor anymore and could settle for an easier job.

Expenses were minimal. He had a place to stay in the club's dormitory—not luxurious, but Matías had been through worse. Meals were covered by the club, and since Mallorca's climate was mild year-round, he didn't need to worry about winter clothes.

Matías was thriving. He had become a regular starter for the B team and was getting minutes in Segunda División matches. His physicality and aerial ability had always been his strengths, but his sluggish turning speed and slow reaction time held him back. However, with consistent training, he improved his positioning and decision-making, covering his weaknesses. He was no longer a liability on defense.

For Matías, life was good. His coach, Mésquida, had even hinted that with more experience, he could make it to the first team within a year or two. The last player to achieve that before turning 20 was Thiago Motta, the team's current midfield orchestrator. Other key players like Tristán, Luque, and Novo had only broken into the squad in their twenties. Mallorca valued its youth academy but was careful not to rush young players into the senior team. Matías had a bright future ahead.

That's why he decided not to return home for Christmas. He wanted to stay in Mallorca and train—only by improving himself could he solidify his place in the team.

Besides, a plane ticket from Mallorca to Madrid wasn't cheap, and Matías wasn't one to waste money.

"Dad, don't worry about coming to Mallorca, it's a hassle... I'm doing great here. I'm a starter for the B team! Have you watched any of my games in the Segunda? Give me some time, and I might even break into the first team! Once I land a big contract, I'll fly back to Madrid whenever I get a break... or maybe I'll buy a house here in Mallorca. The real estate market is booming, prices are bound to rise. Don't worry, I need to focus on training—there's a first-team spot waiting for me."

After making the call from the training center's phone booth, Matías stepped out and headed toward his dorm.

Not many players lived in the team dormitory—most of the B team players had their own accommodation in Mallorca, as the club still relied on local talent. Even senior squad players like Drogba, who had been sent down for match fitness, had their own places. At this time of year, most young players had gone home for the holidays, leaving Matías alone in the dormitory.