Football singularity

Chapter 788 Call Ups

If you’re enjoying the story, consider voting to show your support. Feel free to join me on Discord to chat and share your thoughts: https://discord.gg/hTQJtj2K9U.

#More than 10 Chapters ahead on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/TrikoRex. If you have a moment, leaving a review would mean a lot to me and help me see who’s interested in the story’s future.

~~~

[2021-05-30 | Estádio do Dragão, Porto | 10:30 WEST]

While the world slowly awoke from its slumber and last night’s extravaganza, Rakim was the exception. He was already up at 7 am, not by choice but out of obligation. He had a big choice to make. While in the finals preparation bubble, he had been allowed to procrastinate, but he could do so no longer.

Thus, while the rest of his teammates slept off their partying, with some even having a hangover. Last night had been crazy, and it was safe to say that he was seated at one of the terrace tables at The Yeatman Hotel restaurant, watching the morning sun illuminate the world. He had gone through his morning routine, which consisted of dynamic stretches, yoga, and resistance-band work to kick-start his recovery.

"So, son, have you made your choice?" Ben asked as she sipped on a steaming cappuccino, not minding the heat. He was dressed in a white cardigan, a polo, and matching cotton pleated trousers. Judging by Jacques Marie Mage’s shades and the Calatrava timepiece, he looked as if he were on holiday.

"I know you want to play for Germany because of me, but you have an option just as good," he said with a relaxed smile, watching his sun cut into an avocado and placing it on top of his egg Benedict. "I’m sure your mum and grandparents would be more than thrilled to see you play for the Three Lions."

Rakim chewed slowly, taking his time to respond. The morning Porto breeze carried the scent of fresh bread and coffee from the restaurant’s kitchen. Down below, the Douro River glittered in the sunlight, boats already moving along its surface.

"It’s not just because of you," Rakim finally said, setting down his fork. "I grew up wanting to play for the US, but after what happened, I realised it was the lesser of the three evils. Plus, it’s a system that suits me well, giving me the best chance to win a World Cup. I’m just worried about the politics."

"That’s good, then we support whatever decision you make." He said with a smile, taking a bite from his cheesecake. "As for politics, don’t worry about that, with me there and you playing the way you are, no one will do anything funny. Plus, old man Piëch and his family won’t let anyone interfere after making that large investment in you."

"True, I guess my decision is made," he hummed, his choice already made. "But have you heard who will replace Lowe? No matter how I look at it, the DFB won’t renew his contract unless he wins the Euros, and even then, the process will matter."

"Word is that Hansi Flick’s the frontrunner from what I heard about the tension between him and Brazzo," Ben said, setting down his cappuccino, considering the question. "He won’t last much longer, especially after you guys left him trophy-less other than the Super Cup. Managing Bayern is like Red Bull F1 winning trophies; it is expected as the minimum passing grade, not something hoped for."

"Salihamidžić," Rakim interjected, using the sporting director’s full name. "The whole thing is messy; not letting a manager control or have a major voice in transfers is ridiculous. Especially with a team considered a giant like Bayern, where coaches should be allowed to express themselves to hunt for trophies."

"Exactly," Ben nodded. "But that means Flick’s available, and with him being a proven winner. The DFB would be stupid not to get him."

"He’s good," Rakim admitted, taking a sip from his OJ. "But that’s after the Euros. I still have to deal with Löw first, and honestly, I don’t know what his tactical philosophy is right now; it’s like he was stuck in 2014 and jumped into the 2020s."

"You worried about that?"

Rakim shrugged. "No, I’ve played under him in friendlies, but this is a real competition. Plus his fifteen-year-old legacy will be on the line, so he’ll either gamble or..."

"Or play it safe." Ben finished his words. "Don’t worry too much, just take whatever chance God gives and bide your time learning when you don’t get to play."

"Cheers, Dad. I feel better about my decision now."

~~~

**Tweet~Tweeet**

[TheDream22: Guess I’ll postpone my summer]

Rakim tweeted a picture of his call-up letter resting next to the Champions League trophy with the cenary of Porto in the background. The tweet immediately exploded as football fans who were just rising from the dead, looking for any football news, caught onto this. Only some of those in the know knew that Rakim was eligible to participate in three countries.

They had gotten to know this because each association, either subtly or not so subtly, leaked info about the call-up letter. The USA did its best to rebuild the bridges it had burned, but Rakim’s response was lukewarm. While they responded with two of the two European giants, the US side was left with a polite refusal, even after media play.

Still, they had a president who one day recommended bleach as a cure for COVID and woke up the next, realising it was a real thing. So they couldn’t really focus on him, given that football there was called soccer, they had other sports they were more interested in. But the lure of England had become quite strong, especially with the prospect of Mateo, Musiala, and Jude joining them.

However, that dream had been smashed when Mateo declared he would represent Spain in a post-match press conference, not interested in forming a big four. Like the castle of Babale collapsing, Musiala, who had been on holiday before, Rakim also declared his participation for Germany, denying England. If asked, he could understand the decision, as despite Jamal having played his young career in both countries, he loved Germany more.

Plus, with the BBC like hyenas called reporters being a person of colour representing the Union Jack isn’t a safe occupation. That especially goes for football, which Englishmen love more than drinking and hoarding cultural heritage from other countries. All that made it a powder keg for any player, especially if you didn’t look English, as you are likely to take one for the team in a messed-up white-washing campaign.

For the Germans who had seen him up close for the past two years, it was never any question of whether they wanted him. In fact rakim had received his fair share of fan letters, so polite he thought Canadians had written them, asking him to separate the fatherland. While the Germans had their fair share of people who didn’t like any traditional non-Germans or those representing them on technicality, the majority only wanted to see the Germans conquer the world without being ganged up on.

They had little to be excited about on the international stage since Brazil, but this year, with three highly anticipated talents officially joining Die Mannschaft, it was a dream come true. So when they saw his tweet and the official DFB letter, they flooded his social media, sending the post trending alongside UCL mentions.

"Yo, the gaffer needs us down in five, the bus is already waiting out front," Wirtz said, barging into their room just as Rakim stored away his personal bag in his carry-on bag suitcase already handled by the hotel and team staff. "Bro, can you believe it? We won the Champions League!!!"

"I know I was there, heck, I even scored," he responded, trying to sound cool, but quickly lost that battle as a wide grin appeared on his face. "Champion, champion Champions!!!"

"Champions....Champions!" As if their voices had been the trigger, shouts of champions resounded in a chain reaction through the hotel.

"C’mon, let’s go conquer Europe, my friend," He said, slinging an arm around his friend as he picked up his bag. "I’d rather go on holiday with May, though, she’s going to Miami, dude."

"Bro shes just going home," He retorted, pushing Rakim off him with a hint of exasperation. "Don’t act like she is going out on one of those girls’ trip bs, that’s just a license to be ho ho ho."

"I know, but I still just want to rest on a beach somewhere, swim with dolphins," he said, but as if feeling his point wasn’t convincing, he continued. "You know, press save and take a few side missions, the main quest is becoming a headache."

"Bro, you can take part in the Anime Expo next year," he retorted, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Besides, it’s all virtual this year, so you’re just watching people in costumes, which, if you’re doing that, you might as well rewatch the show. Maybe meeting the authors is worth it, but you are playing in the Euros, so suck it up."

.

.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED...