On the Pitch: Diego's Story

Chapter 17

As the moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the city, Diego lay sprawled across his bed, the dim light from his bedside lamp creating a soft halo around him. It was well past midnight, but the young footballer couldn't sleep. The anticipation of the upcoming international tournaments, the UEFA European Championship, and Copa América, kept him awake. The entire football world was buzzing with excitement, knowing it might be the last time legends like Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi graced the international stage.

The significance of these tournaments was immense. Toni Kroos had already announced his retirement from international football after the Euros, adding to the gravity of the occasion. For football fans and players alike, this was more than just a game—it was history in the making.

Diego's room was filled with the faint glow of his laptop screen, open to a sports news site that continuously updated with the latest squad announcements. His phone buzzed periodically with notifications from social media and messages from his friends, all eagerly discussing the prospects and predictions for the tournaments. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, keeping him wide awake, even as the world outside settled into silence.

Scrolling through the latest news, Diego couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy and excitement. Seeing his idols on the international stage was inspiring, but there was also a deep longing within him. He yearned to be among them, to wear the national jersey and represent Argentina on one of the grandest stages of all. But that dream felt distant, even as he played professionally in Europe.

DIEGO'S ROOM - NIGHT

Diego's phone lay beside him on the bed, its screen dark and still. The occasional ping of notifications had died down as the night wore on, and the world seemed to fall into a quiet slumber. Just as he was about to close his laptop and try to get some rest, the phone suddenly vibrated, breaking the stillness of the night.

The unexpected call made him jolt slightly. Glancing at the screen, his heart skipped a beat when he saw the caller ID: Lionel Scaloni. Diego stared at the phone for a moment, his mind racing. Could this really be happening? He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the screen, as if unsure whether answering the call might shatter the fragile hope blossoming within him.

Finally, taking a deep breath, he swiped to answer the call, pressing the phone to his ear. "Hello?" His voice was cautious, almost as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly might wake him from a dream.

"Diego," the voice on the other end was unmistakable—calm, confident, and carrying the weight of authority. "This is Lionel Scaloni."

Diego's heart raced even faster, his mind struggling to process the reality of the situation. The head coach of the Argentine national team was calling him. It had to be about the Copa América. "Yes, Coach," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, though excitement seeped into his words.

"I wanted to personally inform you that you've been selected for the national team," Scaloni said, his tone warm and congratulatory. "Congratulations, Diego. You've earned your spot for the Copa América."

The words hung in the air, each syllable resonating in Diego's mind like a melody. He felt a surge of emotions—joy, pride, disbelief—all crashing over him like waves. For a moment, he was speechless, unable to form a coherent response.

"Thank you, Coach," Diego finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt surreal, as if he were living in a moment he had only ever dreamed of. "Thank you so much."

Scaloni chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You've worked hard for this, Diego. We're looking forward to having you with us. I'll see you at the training camp."