My Footballing Legend

Returning players still had remnants of sunburns and grains of sand as they shared stories on the training ground. This for Laurence Gonzalez, however, was as if the break never happened. He hadn't gone anywhere, and while his body stayed on the island, his mind was wandering across Spain, preoccupied with stadiums, youth academies, scouting reports, and contract clauses. 

As LaLiga resumed play, CD Tenerife sat 10th in the table with 17 games played, 5 wins, 7 draws, and a goal difference of -5. Modest on paper; miraculous by expectation. But Laurence knew better than to relax. The second half would be harder. Teams would adapt, legs would tire, and the real fight was only just beginning. 

Mauro Pérez was still negotiating carefully in San Sebastián with Real Sociedad for Antoine Griezmann. The stumbling block was the pride of Real Sociedad. They were not blind to what Griezmann could become, but he was not quite ready to displace their aging veterans. The politics of rotation weighed heavier than form. And Griezmann, now 19, was restless. His agent was reaching out to clubs promising ambition and game time. 

Mauro kept the pitch simple.

"We won't promise Europe. We won't promise trophies. But we promise ninety minutes. This system revolves around movement. A coach that grows talent. Let the kid play; let him grow. If he does not like it, no pressure. But if he does... you'll be left with either a better player or a clean sale."

Thus, the terms were simple—a loan for six months with an option to buy for €3 million. Not binding. No great risk. Sociedad stalled for a moment. But the boy was already leaning.

Back in Santa Cruz, the competition resumed.

January 9, 2011 — Estadio Heliodoro Rodríguez López

CD Tenerife vs. Hércules CF

The poetic restart. The same Hermculeans whom Tenerife defeated for their first-ever La Liga victory back in September. On that day, Neymar had danced like a child finding his feet: raw, explosive, uneven. Now, just four months later, he moved like a young star that had learned to keep the rhythm of the league and bend it.

The visitors came prepared from the outset. They pressed with purpose, tracked Casemiro's pivots, and tried to suffocate Natalio from central channels. They had studied the evolution of Tenerife. But there were trying-go-small gaps. The kind only Neymar, and players like him, could see-and-exploit.

The minute 24 actually saw it.

Victor was shouting from the technical area:"Recycle! Drop! Reset!" 

But Neymar wasn't going to listen. He had just received the ball near the halfway line, a short pass from Kitoko. He turned around. A defender came forward. A flick with the shoulder and he was gone. Another one tried to close the lane — he was too slow. Now Neymar was surging through the guts of Hércules' shape. The crowd rose with him.

One more defender by the edge of the box.

A stepover. A feint. A cut inside.

And then the finish — curling with the inside of his right foot, bending away from the keeper, kissing the inside of the far post, and settling into the net.

1–0. Tenerife.

The stadium went wild. The kids jumped in their seats waving tiny flags. The ultras chanted his name. Neymar pointed back to the bench and smiled — a smile not filled with smugness or arrogance but pride, the sort of smile an exuberant kid wears after figuring out a puzzle he'd been staring at since August.

No celebrations for Laurence. Not immediately. He turned to Victor, then to Mauro, who had slipped in through the director's box in the middle of the first half. They exchanged a look.

They didn't just have talent.

They had a superstar.

The rest of the match was wrapped up with professionalism. After the break, Hércules pushed forward but lacked ideas. Dubarbier, deputizing at left-back, floated one high cross in at 78 minutes, which Natalio managed to glance perfectly across for the far-corner finish.

2-0. Game.

Three wins running at home. Comfortable mid-table. And thick belief in the Canary air.

____

At the post-match press conference, Laurence answered the usual questions.

What did he think about Neymar's display?

"He's special. He's learning. And more importantly—he wants to learn."

"Were there more transfers coming?

"We're looking. The window's open. If we can improve, we will."

He smiled politely and spoke carefully, just as Mauro had coached him.

But inside, Laurence was tense.

That morning, the club's board had quietly accepted a bid for Omar Ramos.

The offer came from Getafe. €700,000 up front, rising to €1.1 million with performance bonuses. Omar had been an important player. He mainly played as a winger but was used by Laurence as a false fullback, a right-sided box-runner, and even as a roaming 10 when needed. He wasn't flashy or irreplaceable, but he understood the system.

He trained hard, said little, and grasped spacing and defensive angles. And now he was gone.

Laurence hadn't blocked the move; he wasn't allowed. The club needed the funds. Truthfully, Omar had deserved the step up. But it left a hole. A silent one.

He didn't mention it to the press or the squad, not yet. But he knew what it meant: they needed that Griezmann deal to go through. Fast."