[Drop some powers, leave a comment or review if you want and enjoy the chapter]
...
Shaking off the flurry of thoughts swirling in his mind, he chuckled softly. "Mr. Mendes, I understand your confidence. After all, you're a leader in this industry. But tell me, why place such trust in a small Championship player like me?"
Mendes met his gaze, unfazed, as if he had anticipated this very question. "Because I watched you lead your team to victory against one of my important clients. I saw the whole match unfold right before my eyes."
Tristan's curiosity piqued. "Were you at yesterday's FA Cup match as well?"
"Absolutely." Mendes nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "From the perspective of a professional football agent, you are a very talented young player. Not every athlete warrants my personal attention."
His tone shifted, seriousness etching itself across his features. "I see a superstar's potential in you. Frankly, the Championship is too small a stage for your talent. Don't you want to play at a higher level? The Champions League awaits you!"
Tristan felt a ripple of intrigue at Mendes' confident assertion. With the winter transfer window closing in less than a week, Mendes had the experience and connections to make such a move happen swiftly. The allure of the Champions League was undeniable—it was the pinnacle every player dreamed of reaching, where fame and fortune awaited those who succeeded.
Tristan maintained his composure outwardly, but internally, he was wrestling with his aspirations. As a professional player, career planning was vital, especially after having been given a second chance in life. The dream of climbing to the summit of football to see the breathtaking views from the top beckoned him.
Yet he knew football was a team sport. No matter how talented he was, success hinged on the strength of his teammates. He envisioned himself fighting for titles alongside players he could rely on. The thought of leaving Leicester, where he had trained and grown, stirred uncertainty within him. He didn't want to be like certain players, renowned for their skills yet lacking silverware—a case in point being Harry Kane, who had scored over 200 Premier League goals without a single title to his name.
'By the way," he mused, "the Audi Cup doesn't count as a trophy!'
With all this in mind, he recognized the importance of a professional agent—someone who could help him navigate the complexities of transfers and negotiations. Although his parents were his biggest supporters, he didn't want to burden them with the business side of football, especially after the failures of his first life. He wanted them to enjoy the fruits of their dreams.
Every profession has its specialists, and Mendes was proving to be the right person at the right time. Tristan recalled Mendes' remarkable reputation—his role as both a father figure and a guiding force in Ronaldo's career. He was known for genuinely caring about his clients, ensuring their choices benefited their careers rather than simply chasing commissions, but at the same time he also involved in some shady business. However, that shouldn't impact him considering how famous he made some of his players and what type of players they were.
Mendes' dedication was evident, as he had taken time from his busy schedule to meet with Tristan. That alone spoke volumes about the value he placed on Tristan's potential.
After a moment's reflection, Tristan lifted his gaze to Mendes, his voice steady. "It's undeniable that your proposal is tempting. But if I were to sign with you, which specific clubs could you help me join?"
Despite asking this, Tristan was not yet ready to leave the club that had nurtured him. He had a vision of being part of the miracle season in 2016. He was wary of Mendes' tactics; he didn't want to feel like a pawn in someone else's game.
Mendes was clearly prepared for this inquiry. "Sporting CP, Porto, and Benfica in the Portuguese Super League; Anderlecht and Club Brugge in Belgium; Ajax and PSV Eindhoven in the Netherlands. With your talent, any of these teams would welcome you."
Tristan nodded, intrigued yet cautious. "But why not any clubs from the top five leagues?"
"Right now, my suggestion is to avoid the biggest clubs in the top leagues. At your age, you should seek out opportunities in secondary leagues where you can get ample playing time and participate in the Champions League. In places like Portugal, the Netherlands, or Belgium, you'll quickly earn the trust of head coaches and could become a key player."
Mendes continued, "By excelling in these leagues and making a mark in the Champions League, you'll attract interest from the biggest clubs, and you can choose your next destination."
Tristan couldn't help but admire Mendes' professionalism and strategy. "This is what true expertise looks like," he thought, but as he glanced at Mahrez sitting beside him, a question surfaced. "What if I decide I want to stay at Leicester City?"
Mahrez's expression brightened at this, though he internally cursed the timing of Mendes' push. He had hoped that by introducing Mendes to Tristan, it would strengthen their bond, not push him away. And Mendes was the agent of a close friend of his, so when he asked to meet Tristan, he didn't think much of it, he just thought he wanted to sign Tristan.
Before Mendes could respond, a phone rang, cutting through the talk. Tristan's heart raced as he pulled out his phone, seeing it was Coach Pearson.
"Excuse me, I have to take this call," he said, stepping outside.
"Coach?" he answered, anxiety creeping into his voice.
"Tristan, where are you?" Pearson's tone was serious.
"I'm just out for coffee. What's up?"
"I have something very important to discuss with you."
Tristan felt a rush of confusion. What could be so urgent? "What is it?"
"Arsenal just sent an email to the club, looking to trigger your release clause and buy you out!"
Tristan paused, surprised. Arsenal? Wenger's interest caught him off guard. It made sense, considering his recent performances and the media buzz surrounding him, especially after eliminating Chelsea, with even Mourinho praising him. He had become a name to watch.
Pearson's voice broke into his thoughts. "Tristan, are you still with me?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Even though Arsenal can negotiate directly with you, the club—and I—hope you'll stay with us. We're ready to offer you a new contract with a higher salary, guaranteed playing time, and your preferred jersey number."
Tristan listened, taking in Pearson's proposal. "Coach, thank you. I really appreciate how highly you and the club regard me. However, I need some time to think."
"Of course," Pearson said, understanding the gravity of the moment.
Returning to the café, Tristan felt the weight of the decision ahead of him. He sat down across from Mendes, who awaited his news. "Mr. Mendes, I just received a call that surprised me."
"Oh? What's that?"
"Arsenal is interested enough to trigger the release clause in my contract and is interested in bringing me to London."
Both Mendes and Mahrez were taken aback. Mendes quickly recovered, spreading his hands in a gesture of affirmation. "Not surprising at all! Your talent was bound to attract attention. Wenger has a keen eye for young talent."
"Mr. Mendes," Tristan began, feeling the need to clarify, "if I become your client, what would your professional advice be in this situation?"
Mendes sat up, understanding the significance of the question. "I'll first consider your wishes and then provide my professional insights. Ultimately, the decision will be yours."
Tristan felt a surge of satisfaction at Mendes' response. However, before he could sign anything with Mendes he'd have to discuss it with his parents and consider other options as well.
...
Leicester City's sports director, Rudkin, and head coach, Pearson, were as anxious as ants on a hot pan. They were waiting for Tristan's reply, but their minds were already racing at the thought of competing clubs potentially swooping in.
Before they could even process it, news of other clubs' interest in Tristan spread like wildfire. With a contract penalty set at only one million pounds, numerous clubs quickly sent transfer emails following Arsenal's lead, eager to snatch him up at that price.
Among the clubs vying for his signature were not just teams from the English Championship but several Premier League heavyweights: Arsenal, Chelsea, Tottenham, Crystal Palace, Southampton, and Swansea. Even bitter rivals Nottingham Forest, currently sitting fifth in the Championship, sent an email, seemingly intent on causing Leicester City trouble. They seized the opportunity to annoy their rivals, taking every chance to get at them.
While some speculated if certain clubs were simply fishing in troubled waters or if staff had leaked the news for personal gain, the media had a field day. Within hours, the revelation that Leicester's young talent, Tristan, was up for grabs due to a surprisingly low penalty fee sent shockwaves through English football.
Fans were left wondering which Premier League club he would choose. Most bystanders believed it was a no-brainer; Tristan would surely seize this chance to elevate his career.
But for Leicester City fans, the news felt devastating. When the "Fox Society," Leicester City's largest fan organization, learned that other clubs were circling, they immediately convened a meeting, ready to create banners and protest outside the club's offices.
Messages flooded Leicester City's official website and Twitter account:
"Keep Tristan!"
"If you let him go, the top management should leave!"
"We want Tristan!"
In addition to overwhelming the club with pleas to retain Tristan, fans left messages on his Twitter:
"Tristan, don't go!"
"We love you, man. Stay!"
"This is your home!"
Adding to the outpouring, Leicester City legend Gary Lineker, who followed Tristan, tweeted his thoughts: "Guys, stay calm; I believe Tristan will make the right decision!"
Time: January 26, 2014, 5:00 p.m.
Location: London.
Tristan arrived in London aboard Mendes' private jet, officially becoming a client of "Gestifute" after a long discussion with his parents, making sure he had control over his moves and life. Gestifute was an agency founded by Mendes, who plays a crucial role in the careers of many professional players, acting as an intermediary between them and clubs. He negotiates contracts to ensure competitive salaries, advises on career management including transfers and endorsements, and coordinates player movements between clubs.
With Mendes, players benefit from his marketing expertise, as he helps secure lucrative endorsement deals, while also offering guidance on their overall development, lifestyle, and public relations. Additionally, Mendes mediates conflicts that may arise, fostering relationships with club officials and creating a network that can greatly benefit his clients. He would take 4% of all commissions, but in return, Mendes would help Tristan become a football superstar. After stepping out of the agency and into a sleek black SUV arranged by Mendes, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
Mendes, seated beside him, broke the silence. "Your transfer destination is causing quite a stir online."
Curiosity piqued, Tristan pulled out his phone and opened Twitter. The outpouring of support from fans brought a lump to his throat.
Just then, his phone rang, starting him. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen, and for a moment, he considered ignoring it. However, a sudden impulse made him answer. "Hello?"
"Is this Tristan?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"I'm Wenger, Arsène Wenger."
'Wenger?! How did he know my number?'
The thoughts raced through Tristan's mind.
"Hello? Tristan? Can you hear me?" Wenger's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Yes, Mr. Wenger, I can hear you," Tristan replied, trying to mask his surprise.
"I heard you don't have an agent yet, so I asked someone to get your phone number. I hope this isn't too intrusive."
"Of course not! I feel very honored to receive your call!"
In that moment, Tristan couldn't help but feel flattered. Wenger was a legend, a tactical pioneer who had reshaped the Premier League, and now he was speaking to him directly.
"I'm calling to invite you to join Arsenal."
Tristan's heart raced at the proposition. Could it be? He was so sought after that Wenger himself was on the line.
"Join Arsenal?" he echoed, half in disbelief.
"Yes, I can assure you that you will get playing time in both the Premier League and the Champions League."
Mendes watched Tristan intently, pleased to witness the interest his client was generating. He silently urged Tristan to take the opportunity, impressed by the call's significance.
Tristan, however, shook his head slightly at Mendes, indicating he wasn't ready to discuss it just yet. If Wenger was making this pitch, it deserved a personal response.
"Mr. Wenger," he began, choosing his words carefully, "thank you very much for reaching out. Arsenal is a fantastic club, and I hold you in high regard. However, I've decided to stay at Leicester City. I want to help the team earn promotion to the Premier League."
Wenger fell silent for a moment, perhaps weighing Tristan's determination. Finally, he replied, "I'm sorry to hear your decision, but I respect your choice. Young man, I hope to see you in the Premier League next season."
"Yes, Mr. Wenger, I believe we will meet again!"
After hanging up, Mendes looked at him, impressed. "You handled that well. But let me take the reins next time; after all, I need to earn my commission somehow!"
Tristan laughed, the tension easing as they drove toward the airport.
Time: January 26, 2014, 7:30 p.m.
Location: Leicester.
Meanwhile, at his family's home in Leicester, manager Nigel Pearson sat at the dinner table, his family enjoying a meal. Yet, Pearson's eyes kept darting to his phone beside his plate, a clear sign of his anxiety.
"Are you waiting for someone's call, honey?" his wife asked, noticing his distracted demeanor.
"Tristan. He said he'd think it over, but it's already seven, and I haven't heard anything."
Across the table, his son James asked, "Dad, is Tristan really planning to transfer?"
"I'm not sure. We'll see what he decides."
"If he leaves, does that mean I might get promoted to the first team?"
Pearson frowned at the thought. As much as he hoped for his son to succeed, he couldn't sugarcoat the truth. "Even if Tristan leaves, your current skill level isn't enough to secure a place in the first team!"
James fell silent, understanding his father's seriousness. Pearson, a no-nonsense, old-school coach, believed in hard work and earned success.
After dinner, Pearson picked up his phone, ready to call Rudkin, the club's sports director. "Any updates?"
"No. How about you reach out to him again?"
"Do you think he'll feel pressured if we keep calling?"
"You're the one who brought him to the first team. It shows how much we value him!" Rudkin insisted.
Pearson considered this, finally nodding. "Alright, I'll give him another call!"
Just as he picked up his phone, it rang. The caller ID displayed Tristan's name. Without hesitation, Pearson answered, "Hello, Tristan"
"Coach, it's me."
"Well? What have you decided?"
"I've thought it over. I'm not going anywhere!"