God Of football

Chapter 458: The Crown

Tyrell Green remained seated for a moment after dismissing his team. His arms folded across his chest, his gaze locked on the sleek presentation screen, which had now faded to black.

The directive had been clear: Pull Izan Hernández away from Adidas—carefully, surgically, like a heist without the alarms.

Outside the conference room, the mood was lighter.

Jokes, murmurs, and small talk about the coming weekend as staff dispersed through the halls, folders tucked under arms and tablets glowing with briefs.

One member of the crew, Nate—an analyst sharp with numbers and even sharper with gossip—trailed behind the others.

He didnʼt take the elevator down with them. Instead, he moved past it and slipped into a quiet stairwell, letting the door fall shut behind him with a hollow click.

He waited a beat, listening for footsteps. Nothing. The silence was clean. Then, slipping a hand into his blazer pocket, he pulled out his phone.

No names. No introductions.

Just a low voice as he leaned against the cool cement wall and made the call.

”Theyʼre going for Hernández,” Nate said simply.

”Full strategy built around poaching him by the end of the season. You were right—they think the Adidas deal is soft. Already laying groundwork.”

There was a pause, then a tinny voice on the other end—neutral, professional. No real tells. But it wasnʼt Nike.

”Good. Keep me posted.”

Nate nodded silently, even though the person couldnʼt see him. ”Youʼll have it first.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone away, expression unreadable. Just another cog in a machine with more than one blueprint.

Far from there, in an office somewhere cloaked in neutral tones and modest branding, someone leaned back in their chair—thumb slowly tracing the Mizuno emblem carved discreetly into the metal of their desk lamp.

The game, it seemed, had already begun.

...….

At Adidasʼ global headquarters in Herzogenaurach, Germany, the atmosphere was charged with urgency.

Hans Webber, recently elevated to Head of Athlete Relations, convened a high-level meeting in the sleek, glass-walled conference room.

His promotion was not merely a reward for tenure but a recognition of his pivotal role in securing Izan Hernández, a prodigious talent whose meteoric rise had significantly enhanced Adidasʼ brand equity.

”Letʼs get to the point,” Hans began, his tone measured yet firm.

”Are we aware of any competitors making moves on Izan?”

Claudia, the head of strategic relations, responded, ”Weʼve received intelligence suggesting that both Nike and Mizuno are expressing interest. However, the details are nebulous, and the source of the leak remains unidentified.”

Hans nodded, absorbing the information.

”We anticipated this. Izanʼs current contract, while substantial, doesnʼt reflect his current market value or his potential trajectory. Itʼs time we consider a more comprehensive, long-term engagement.”

He unveiled a proposal for a ʼlifetimeʼ contract, drawing parallels to the agreement Adidas holds with Lionel Messi.

This contract would encompass:

Annual Base Compensation: A significant annual salary, reflecting Izanʼs market value and performance metrics.

Performance Bonuses: Incentives tied to individual accolades, team achievements, and brand engagement metrics.

Signature Product Line: Development of a personalized line of boots and apparel, leveraging Izanʼs brand.

Global Ambassador Role: Positioning Izan as a central figure in Adidasʼ global marketing campaigns.

Equity Stake: Potential equity in Adidas or affiliated ventures, aligning long-term interests.

The legal advisor, Markus, interjected with caution.

”Hans, while Izanʼs potential is undeniable, committing to a lifetime contract carries inherent risks,” he paused letting his words ring through the room before continuing.

”Should his performance plateau or decline, the financial implications could be significant.”

Hans responded decisively, ”Markus, risk is inherent in all high-stakes ventures. Our data indicates that Izanʼs trajectory is upward, and his alignment with our brand ethos is unparalleled. This is an investment in our future.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the decision palpable.

After a moment, Claudia spoke, ”If we proceed, we must ensure the contract includes performance clauses and exit strategies to mitigate potential risks.”

Hans agreed, ”Absolutely. Letʼs structure the contract to protect our interests while offering Izan a compelling proposition.”

”Contact Miranda,” he said, ”Tell her we want to renegotiate but donʼt show her any cards we have on our hand. That woman is very demanding and we donʼt want her driving up the prices by making us fight against the other brands”

As the meeting concluded, Hans remained, contemplating the path ahead.

Securing Izanʼs long-term commitment would not only fortify Adidasʼ position in the market but also signal to competitors that the brand was prepared to invest boldly in its future.

...…....…

The next afternoon, sunlight washed across the living room in long golden stripes, softened by the sheer curtains that fluttered faintly with the breeze.

The Arsenal recovery training session had ended hours ago, and Izan had finally allowed himself to unwind.

His body still hummed from the drills, the gym work, and the long tactical briefing Arteta had delivered post-session.

He was on the couch now, freshly showered, in an oversized hoodie and athletic shorts, mindlessly flicking through a game on his phone while Olivia scrolled beside him, feet tucked under a blanket.

The house smelled faintly of sandalwood from a candle Olivia had lit earlier, mixing pleasantly with the afterglow of post-training calm.

Izan had barely sunk into the cushions when his phone buzzed again. Miranda, flashing across the screen.

He squinted, before laughing at the thought that she might have called to complain about something like she always did.

He answered immediately. ”Hey.”

”Izan,” Mirandaʼs voice came through, brisk but tightly wound like sheʼd just walked out of a storm and hadnʼt had the time to brush off the rain.

”You got a second?”

”Yeah,” Izan said, sitting up straighter.

Olivia glanced over, sensing the shift in his posture.

He stood and walked toward the balcony again, sliding the glass door closed behind him.

Miranda didnʼt waste time. ”I just got word. Someoneʼs been sniffing around your Adidas deal. Multiple someones.”

Izan blinked. ”Okay? Who”

”Nike,” she confirmed. ”Puma and a few others. Theyʼre quiet. Quiet, but aggressive. This isnʼt just casual interest. Thereʼs a full strategy in play. Meetings, projections, internal reports. Theyʼre treating you like an open target.”

Izan frowned, resting his arms on the cool metal railing.

”How? We havenʼt spoken to anyone.”

”We wouldnʼt. Thatʼs how they play this game,” Miranda replied.

”They donʼt go through you. They go through channels and relationships. I wouldnʼt even know if one of my people didnʼt catch a leak.”

”A leak?” he asked, voice low.

”Someone from inside Nike,” she said, frustration barely contained.

”Theyʼre not being subtle. Theyʼre planning a coordinated pitch. Even have a whole segment in their internal campaign lineup about ʼtaking the crown from Adidas.ʼ You are the crown, Izan.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of her words settling fast.

”I had no idea.”

”I know. I just found out this morning,” she said.

”Thatʼs why Iʼm calling now. Adidas have caught wind too. But they donʼt know where the leak came from.

Just that someoneʼs been getting fed info—internal projections, contract terms. Might be Mizuno, might be Puma. Nobody knows whoʼs actually pulling the strings yet.”

A pause.

”Izan,” she added more softly, ”this is the big moment. This isnʼt about some boot deal or promo shoot. This is empire-building.”

He didnʼt say anything, letting her words sink in.

”Adidas,” Miranda continued, ”already had something in motion before but they scrapped it. Now if what I think will happen then itʼs early Christmas for us.”

”Eight-annual figure salaries. Signature boots that you already have but think more exclusive. Global campaigns, full creative input” she said breathing in after rapping all those words,

”Youʼll be the face. The face. Not just the rising star. Theyʼre pivoting from the post-Messi era, and youʼre their anchor.”

”…Whatʼs the catch?” Izan asked, suspicious.

”There isnʼt one. Not from Adidas,” she said.

”They just want to lock you in before things spiral. Theyʼre spooked now.”

”And what do you think?” Izan asked.

”I think youʼve already outpaced your deal,” Miranda said plainly.

”Twenty million over seven years? That was a steal—for them. Youʼve paid that back in media value already. With interest. Youʼve broken into superstardom before even hitting your physical peak. If theyʼre willing to give you Messiʼs treatment, itʼs not blind faith. Itʼs late recognition.”

Izan stared out over the city, expression unreadable. Cars passed below. Birds drifted lazily overhead.

”I still donʼt want to leave Adidas,” he said eventually.

”Not unless they fumble it. If they can match the tone of the others—doesnʼt have to be more, just close enough—I want to stay.”

”Iʼll tell them,” Miranda replied.

”But this wonʼt be calm waters for long. Pumaʼs preparing something flashy. Nikeʼs coming with legacy talk. And Mizuno? Theyʼre quiet, but when they speak, they do it with impact. Theyʼd want you to be the spearhead of their football resurrection.”

”So weʼre in the middle of a brand war now,” Izan muttered.

”We always were,” she said. ”Now itʼs just visible.”

The call ended soon after, leaving Izan staring into the horizon.

When he walked back inside, Olivia looked up from the couch. ”Everything okay?”

He nodded slowly and collapsed beside her again, the weight of the conversation still lingering in his gaze.

”Just hungry,” he said finally.

She laughed and tossed him the remote. ”Well, lucky for you—I already ordered something.”

He leaned his head back against the couch and exhaled.

Another kind of battle would be ensuing soon and he was the prize.

”Nice- oof” Izan tried saying but Olivia jumped onto him, trying to enter the oversized hoodie too.

”Youʼre clingy,” Izan said looking at Olivia who had poked her head out, the latter staring back with a smile

”Ahh, but you love it,” she said as she pulled the hoodie over Izanʼs head, hers going into the hoodie which held Izanʼs head in place.

A/n: Second of the day. Have fun reading and I will see you tomorrow.