Chapter 172

The early morning sun cast a golden glow over the pristine training grounds of Valencia CF as Izan strolled toward the facility.

His strides were confident, his black duffle bag slung over one shoulder, his mind buzzing with anticipation.

Meeting some staff members on the way to the locker room, Izan felt a few stares at him but their stares were lingering much longer than before.

"Must be because of the whole Real Madrid thing?" he thought as he greeted them.

After ten days of rest—an unusual luxury granted by Coach Rubén Baraja—Izan felt recharged and eager to prove that the rest had done more than good, even though he didn’t need it that much.

Opening the door to the locker room, all eyes turned to Izan. Before he could move, Gaya held him in a chokehold trying to hold it but he couldn’t as Izan slipped through before he could realise.

"You’re getting good son" Gaya said throwing a cloth bin at Izan. "You didn’t even come to watch us play against Almería. The least you could do is pack those clothes into the bin" Gaya said with a smile.

Seeing Izan holding the bag, the players moved in unison, putting dirty clothes into the bag. The kit manager stood beside the players with a warm smile on his face.

He moved to take the bin but Izan shook his head. After they were done packing, Izan together with the kit manager walked to one of the rooms that held those clothes.

"Um, Izan," the kit manager said before pulling out a piece of Paper. "My nephew is a fan. Can I get an autograph for him.".

"Sure," Izan said as he took the Sharpie from the man. After Izan was done, he began heading towards the field.

Before he could step onto the field, Izan was directed to the medical room for a battery of fitness tests.

"Oh, not again. Those guys at the lab feel more like Forensics " he thought as he looked at the medical building.

Entering the room, The club’s head physiotherapist greeted him warmly.

"Ready to see where you stand, Izan?" the physio asked, a clipboard in hand.

Izan nodded, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Let’s do it," he said in resignation.

The tests began with a VO2 max test to measure his aerobic capacity as Izan put the mask on his face.

Izan was then made to run on the treadmill, his breathing steady even as the incline increased.

Next came a series of strength assessments: squats, vertical jumps, and isokinetic exercises to measure his muscle balance and explosiveness.

Finally, agility and reflex drills tested his reaction time and coordination.

When the results came in, the staff exchanged astonished glances.

"Unbelievable," murmured one of the medics. "He’s even sharper than the last time we did this. And he’s returning from a break for this one.

His recovery metrics are off the charts."

Assistant Coach Moreno walked in, skimming the results. He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This kid is something else. He’s been resting, and he’s still ahead of the pack. Wait till Baraja sees this."

With the medical clearance complete, Izan stepped onto the training pitch.

The squad was midway through their warm-up drills, but all eyes shifted to him as he joined in. It didn’t take long for Izan’s presence to be felt.

In the rondo, his touches were silky, his passes crisp and purposeful. He threaded the ball through tight spaces with ease, leaving seasoned teammates chasing shadows.

In sprint drills, he was consistently the fastest, proving his mantle as the fastest player in the team, his strides eating up the turf as he ran.

Then came the shooting exercises. Izan’s strikes were precise and powerful, each shot either rattling the net or forcing stunning saves from the goalkeeper.

His signature curl from the edge of the box drew gasps from onlookers, mainly new staff and the other youth players who had joined the senior team for training.

From the touchline, Rubén Baraja observed with his arms folded, his face a mixture of pride and quiet satisfaction.

Beside him, Assistant Coach Moreno leaned in. "He’s setting the tone for everyone out there," Moreno remarked.

Baraja nodded. "He’s not just back; he’s better. That break did him more good than we could have imagined."

The coaches continued to watch as Izan dominated every aspect of the session, his determination contagious. The squad’s intensity seemed to rise as if trying to match his level.

By the end of the session, Izan was drenched in sweat but grinning, his teammates patting him on the back.

It was clear: the young prodigy hadn’t missed a beat. If anything, he had taken another leap forward, leaving everyone—including the coaching staff—in awe of his potential.

The room was everything but silent as reporters packed the press hall ahead of Valencia’s clash with Cádiz.

Cameras clicked and murmurs filled the air as Izan and Coach Rubén Baraja took their seats at the podium.

Izan, dressed in the club’s official pre-match attire, sat composed, his expression calm but alert.

Baraja, ever the steady presence, exuded authority as he adjusted the microphone in front of him.

"Let’s begin," the press officer announced, and hands shot up across the room.

The first question was directed at Baraja, asking about his expectations for the match.

"Will Izan be starting this match, considering he hasn’t been in the squad for a while?" a reporter asked.

"Well, we will have to wait and see" Baraja answered ambiguously.

After addressing tactics and the team’s preparation, the spotlight quickly shifted to Izan.

A reporter from Marca leaned forward, his tone inquisitive. "Izan, photos of you in Madrid during your rest period surfaced online.

You were seen with Jude Bellingham. Can you tell us what you were doing there and what those photos mean?"

Izan’s lips curved into a slight smile. "I was in Madrid for a collaboration with a brand as you all saw from Selene’s Post and also to unwind and take some time off during the break.

I visited a few places and caught up with Jude after he texted to hang out. He’s someone I admire, both as a player and a person."

Another reporter interjected, "But there’s been speculation that your meeting had something to do with your future. Are you considering a move to Real Madrid?"

Baraja shifted slightly but remained composed, allowing Izan to handle the question. The young forward glanced at his coach briefly before addressing the room.

"I’m a Valencia player," Izan said firmly. "My focus is on helping the team and giving my best for the fans who have supported me from the start.

My meeting with Jude was purely personal—two players sharing experiences. Nothing more."

The room buzzed with whispered conversations, but Izan’s calm demeanour held the attention of everyone present.

Another journalist from AS pressed further. "Izan, considering how young you are and the attention you’re getting, does this extra scrutiny affect your focus on the pitch?"

Izan straightened in his seat, his tone resolute. "I’ve learned to block out the noise. My job is to play football and improve every day. My agent takes care of the other side of my career.

As for the rest—whether it’s rumours, social media, or speculation—is just background noise."

After a few questions, the press officer stepped in to wrap up the session. "That’s all for today. Thank you."

As Izan and Baraja stood to leave, flashes of cameras followed them with the flashes saturated behind Izan.

The Valencia team bus rolled into the bustling Estadio Mestalla, its iconic architecture illuminated by the golden hues of the evening sun.

Fans lined the streets, waving scarves and chanting Valencia’s anthem. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as the players began to disembark, their sharp, tailored suits and focused expressions signalling their readiness for battle.

Leading the pack was Captain José Gayà, his calm demeanour masking the weight of leadership on such a crucial night.

Behind him, veterans like Mosquera and André Almeida exchanged quiet words, their experience radiating confidence.

Younger players like Fran Pérez carried an edge of excitement, eager to prove their worth in this La Liga clash.

As if the noise couldn’t get any louder, Izan stepped out of the bus. His hair slightly damp, reflecting some of the light that fell on it, giving it shine.

The shouts of the fans nearby went up a notch as they looked at the best player of their campaign.

Wearing the Valencia crest over his suit, Izan followed the remaining players as they entered the building.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to what promises to be a thrilling La Liga encounter here at the iconic Mestalla.

Valencia CF takes on Cádiz CF in a clash that could shape the trajectory of their seasons.

Both teams come into this match with points to prove, and the stakes couldn’t be higher."

The screen shifted to the Valencia players who were now warming up on the pitch, their focus unwavering. The commentator continued his tone sharpening.

"Valencia never expected to be this high up the table this season but the boy, Izan has had every single one of those Valencia fans wanting for more.

It’s a lot of pressure for someone so young, but he’s proved time and time again in his short career that pressure doesn’t faze him.

We will be looking forward to something good tonight. My name is Verra Godin and this is Valencia against Cadiz"