When the final whistle echoed through the stadium, the broadcast caras locked exclusively onto Shane Carter.
"Half a season. Double digits in both goals and assists. Carter is guaranteed to finish his rookie campaign with absolute dream-like numbers, setting an astronomical bar for his sophomore season," the Spanish comntator declared, his voice filled with awe.
"In football, people often talk about the 'sophomore slump,' the dreaded wall that young players hit when defenders finally figure them out. But when you watch Carter play... he doesn't rely on raw pace or unpredictable tricks. His ga is built on absolute, suffocating maturity. If you ignored his face and his age, you would swear you were watching a twenty-eight-year-old veteran maestro orchestrating the pitch."
The cara tracked the eighteen-year-old until he disappeared down the dark tunnel.
Unai Ery violently rubbed his temples.
Sitting in his office in Valencia, he watched the television screen as Carter vanished into the tunnel.
Ery's face was completely grim.
A few weeks ago, Valencia sitting comfortably in third place felt like an absolute certainty.
Now, not only had Atlético Madrid brutally violently ripped third place out of their hands, but their grip on fourth place was beginning to slip.
The heavily-funded, Qatari-backed Málaga was breathing aggressively down their necks.
If Valencia, who had held third place for the vast majority of the season, collapsed in the final stretch and was entirely booted out of the Champions League spots by Málaga, the financial shockwave would destroy the club.
Without the massive influx of Champions League broadcasting revenue, Valencia's ability to reinforce their squad would evaporate. To balance the books, the board would inevitably be forced to strip-mine the roster and sell their best players.
Ery had zero desire to manage a rapidly bleeding club with no financial backing.
But there was one potential salvation.
If he could lead Valencia to the Europa League title, it would be the perfect, triumphant conclusion to his tenure at the stalla.
For so inexplicable reason, Ery always felt like a completely different manager in the Europa League. It was as if the universe had hardwired his DNA to conquer this specific competition.
Am I just naturally born to be the King of the Europa League? Ery shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
Their next match was the Europa League semifinal first leg.
Away at the Vicente Calderón.
This tie against Atlético Madrid was the absolute crucible.
Compared to the other semifinal matchup between Athletic Bilbao and Sporting CP, the intensity and sheer quality of the Valencia-Atlético clash was infinitely higher.
Everyone in Europe knew the truth. Whoever survived this Spanish civil war was going to lift the trophy in Bucharest. The sheer gap in league standing and roster quality made it an absolute certainty.
The only problem?
The current iteration of Atlético Madrid was a terrifying monster.
Specifically, their Arican orchestrator.
His form was completely supernatural.
"A double-double in half a season... what kind of absolute, sickening luck did Atlético stumble into to find this kid?!" Ery cursed, dragging a hand through his hair.
With third place practically mathematically secured, Atlético Madrid was preparing for their triumphant return to the Champions League.
And the global sports dia was obsessively docunting every single step of Shane Carter's ascent.
The "double-double" is a sacred statistical benchmark.
Any player who achieves double digits in both goals and assists in one of Europe's Top Five leagues is considered world-class.
To achieve it in a single season is an incredible feat.
To achieve it in half a season?
That wasn't just impressive. It was genuinely terrifying.
In Spain, the press went into absolute overdrive.
Marca dedicated an entire front-page spread to dissecting Carter's terrifying efficiency.
"...Matchweek 33. Carter delivers a goal and an assist, orchestrating a 3-0 away victory. With this strike, the Arican teenager secures his 10th league goal, officially becoming the second player this season to achieve a double-double, trailing only Lionel ssi..."
"...Carter debuted in Matchweek 17. In just 17 appearances, he has amassed 16 assists and 10 goals. He is averaging nearly one assist per ga and a goal every other match. In La Liga, the only two entities capable of producing this level of sustained, lethal efficiency are Lionel ssi and Cristiano Ronaldo..."
"...Of course, half a season of brilliance does not put Carter in the sa historical stratosphere as the two Ballon d'Or winners. Many players have experienced brief flashes of ssi-Ronaldo tier efficiency, only to fade away when evaluated across multiple seasons. But this half-season unequivocally proves that a new apex predator is rising. If Carter can maintain this terrifying consistency, his eventual coronation alongside ssi and Ronaldo would not be a surprise..."
The Spanish dia's relentless hype campaign was not entirely objective. They were aggressively lobbying to convince Carter to declare for the Spanish National Team.
But the hysteria wasn't confined to the Iberian Peninsula.
Across Europe—in Germany, Italy, France, and England—the dia onslaught began.
In the UK, The Daily Mail, The Guardian, and Sky Sports dedicated massive spreads to analyzing his statistics.
In Germany, Transfermarkt released their latest global player valuations.
They published a list of the players whose market value had exploded the fastest.
First place: Shane Carter.
When Carter had made his debut back in Matchweek 17, Transfermarkt had conservatively valued him at €5 million.
Today, the eighteen-year-old's valuation was updated to a staggering €50 million.
And every scout in Europe knew that valuation was still insulting. You couldn't buy his left leg for €50 million right now.
He was officially the most valuable Under-21 player on the planet.
He had violently surpassed Neymar, the Brazilian prodigy tearing up South Arica with Santos. Neymar's current valuation sat at €45 million.
Neymar was the reigning South Arican Footballer of the Year, anointed by Pelé himself as his true successor. He had been a global phenonon since he was fifteen.
For an Arican teenager to erge from complete obscurity and shatter Neymar's valuation in just four months was causing absolute chaos in the United States.
The Arican sports dia was in a state of pure frenzy.
The USMNT fanbase was reading the translated European reports detailing the Spanish Federation's aggressive attempts to cap-tie Carter.
The panic reached a boiling point.
The official Twitter accounts of US Soccer and Jurgen Klinsmann were being relentlessly bombarded by thousands of furious fans every single hour, demanding to know why Carter hadn't been called up.
In reality, the United States Soccer Federation had finally made their move.
The morning after the Matchweek 33 victory, Diego Sione summoned Carter into his office.
"Sothing happened yesterday, and the club feels it is necessary for you to be inford imdiately," Sione said, his face completely deadpan. "The United States Soccer Federation sent an official fax to the club. They have requested to call you up to the national team for a training camp... lasting two months. Yes, a two-month training camp."
Sione slid the official fax across the desk.
"Two months? A training camp?!"
Carter stared at the docunt, absolutely bewildered.
He checked the dates printed on the official letterhead.
Call-up duration: April 20th to June 20th.
"A two-month training camp?! Two straight months of no competitive matches?! How is any professional supposed to maintain their match fitness like that?!" Carter's voice cracked in disbelief. "And this isn't even an official FIFA international window! Do they not realize we are in the middle of a European semifinal and a Champions League qualification race?!"
Carter genuinely felt like he was losing his mind.
How could a national football federation be this catastrophically stupid?
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