[football] walk side by side

Cyril looked at the guy who appeared out of nowhere and claimed to be a manager: "I just rejected Jose Vega."

Jorge nodded: "I know."

"So," Cyril raised his eyebrows: "Do you think you are better than him? I haven't even heard of your name."

Jorge did not answer this question immediately.

He recalled the conversation between Cyril and Jose Vega just now.

In Jose Vega's view, he has always grasped the rhythm and direction of the negotiations, the truth?Not only did he fail to convince Cyril, he even angered him to some extent.

The fact that he didn't get angry immediately meant that he didn't want to offend a giant crocodile manager.

He is not attracted to Vega's network resources, that is to say, he does not care about the agent's ability in social relations.

So, what exactly does he want?

Jorge thought for a moment, then he said, "I will value you more than him."

"The most important thing is that I will not interfere with any of your decisions in matters related to football," Jorge said, trying to look as sincere as possible: "I am a person who likes money, especially persistence." To make money, I will not harm long-term interests because of temporary interests."

Cyril did not comment on the commitment, tilted his head and asked another seemingly unrelated question: "Do you know what it means to sign me?"

"What?" Jorge subconsciously asked.

"In other words," said Cyril, "do you know what it means to offend José Vega in Portugal?"

Jorge laughed. "Actually, our relationship has always been bad."

Cyril nodded, and then he said in a tone like talking about the weather: "OK, let's sign the contract."

"...you agreed?" Jorge was a little puzzled: "So you agreed?"

"Yes, if your preparation is sufficient, I think we can sign the contract now." Cyril said straightforwardly.

When Jorge successfully got a contract signed with Cyril's name, he was still confused. Before leaving, he couldn't help asking: "Can I ask, why did you reject Jose?" Vega?"

"I'm not happy, I don't like him, I don't sign." Cyril shrugged: "As for why I agreed to you? To be honest, I don't care what kind of person the agent who is signing now is, because sooner or later I will become a person who can not be accepted by anyone." Stars controlled by agents, if one day your ability cannot keep up with mine, or one day you do something that is not good for my career, when I leave, there will be a lot of agents to replace me The kind that pays liquidated damages.”

Jorge couldn't help laughing at this arrogance that was extremely inconsistent with his usual humility. Suddenly, he began to look forward to the future infinitely-the future of his players, as well as his own future.

Yes, he doesn't have Luis Figo under his banner, but what does that matter, he already has a future.

"There won't be such a day," Jorge also replied with a smile: "One day, you will thank you for your decision today."

Many years later, when two people who were already friends sat together to talk about what happened that day, Cyril finally revealed the real reason why he agreed to Jorge——

"Probably because I saw the same ambition as mine in your eyes." Cyril thought for a while, and told his partner who had worked with him for more than ten years: "At that time, I felt that having such an ambition A person who is a good person will not be willing to be inferior to anyone. Instead of choosing a super agent who doesn't care much about me, it is better to choose an agent who values ​​me."

Jorge couldn't help laughing: "Oh? I thought you were just like me, optimistic about my future."

"Is there any difference?" Cyril raised his eyebrows: "My agent will always be the best agent."

At this moment, there are still three months and five days before Cristiano Ronaldo, Jose Mourinho and other well-known stars and coaches terminate their contracts with Jose Vega and re-sign Jorge Mendes.

Cyril stood at the entrance of the alley.

Ahead is a narrow and dirty concrete road, scattered with small stones, cans, plastic bags and other rubbish on the road. From the appearance, this is a small road that is easy to be daunting. , Whether it's the messy ground or the faint smell in the air, it's unbearable.

But for Cyril, passing this trail every day is already a normal part of his life.

The further you go in, the cleaner the ground becomes.Everything that can be seen seems to be suddenly fitted with a magnifying glass and becomes vast.Cyril skillfully walked through the gaps between one house after another, turning eastward and westward.

The familiar environment made him relax, and there was a faint smile on his lips along the way, bright and warm, peaceful and gentle.

"Cyril is back?"

"How was today's game? No injuries?"

"Work hard, Cyril, I'm still waiting for the day when I can cheer for you in Antas!"

Along the way, acquaintances kept greeting him, most of them were middle-aged women sitting in front of their houses or choosing vegetables or doing laundry, and occasionally some kind old people basking in the sun or reading newspapers.Among the usual strong and tall European teenagers, the thin and slender Cyril always aroused their affection, rubbing his hair and face, and stuffing all kinds of small things.

When he was a teenager, he stopped and walked, and he was not annoyed by being raised and lowered like a child. He obediently let others rub him, and from time to time he even gave him a soft smiling face.

This well-behaved and obedient appearance made a group of women and old people feel more pity, and one of the old people said seriously: "Have you been bullied in the team? Little Cyril, you are too soft-tempered, this is not good..."

"Who dares to bully our Cyril?" Muric, who runs a bar at home, waved his strong arm exaggeratedly, and loudly said jokingly: "Let's beat him to death!"

Porto B team player: ... Who is bullying whom? qaq

"No, Grandpa Kalia, everyone is very kind to me." The boy smiled and waved his hands, blinking playfully: "Besides, don't I still have Uncle Muric? They dare not bully me Woolen cloth."

After getting rid of the kind neighbors, Cyril stopped in front of a slightly old house, he took a breath, and the smile on his face deepened again.He opened the door—

"Mother?"

This word is spoken in Chinese.

Cyril's mother, Shen Wei, is Chinese, and his father is American, but because the mother and son have lived in Porto since Cyril was born, they are Portuguese in terms of nationality, and Cyril is fluent in Portuguese. Chinese, but the conversations with my mother at home are in Chinese.Although she has been away from home for many years, Shen Wei, a mother, never forgets to teach her children the original mother tongue.

"Are you back? Did you win today's game?" Shen Wei's voice was as soft as ever, but there were some slight gasps in her throat.

Cyril frowned, walked through the narrow hallway a few steps, and saw his mother who was trying to move a wooden cabinet at a glance.He frowned unhappily, "Mom! Didn't I say that, let me do this kind of heavy work?"

As he spoke, he was about to take the weight from Shen Wei's hand.

Shen smiled and shook his head, rejecting his son's help: "It's just moving something, I'm not that weak yet."

Cyril wanted to say something else, but Shen Wei changed the subject: "I've been exercising for a day, are you hungry? I made a meal and put it on the table, eat it while it's hot."

Knowing that he could not persuade Shen Wei, Cyril had no choice but to sit at the dining table.

After finishing the work in hand, Shen Wei washed her hands, untied her apron, and sat at the table herself. She looked at Cyril who was eating slowly, and asked again: "How was today's game?" Because Due to busy work, Shen Wei didn't go to watch the game or squat to watch the live broadcast, and only asked a few questions after waiting for Cyril to come home.

"We drew with Sporting Lisbon b team, but I don't think I have any regrets." Cyril said briefly, "There was also a football agent who asked me to sign, and I agreed." Added rejection.

Shen Wei was a little surprised, but still nodded, because of ignorance, she rarely made decisions for her son in football, and also believed in Cyril's decisions in many aspects: "I believe in your decisions."

"You haven't been injured in recent training, have you?"

Cyril shook his head: "No."

Shen Wei didn't quite believe it, she knew that this son was always considerate and sensible, and didn't want her to worry about it, but it was for this reason that made her even more worried: "Is it really all right?" pants.

"Mom!" Cyril yelled helplessly, and hurriedly escaped from Shen Wei's shackles: "I'm really fine! I'm going back to my room to read." Turning around, he ran away to the room.

Shen Wei couldn't help laughing, and slightly let go of the worry in her heart—seeing Cyril's lively appearance, obviously there won't be any major problems.