By 2008, Maradona Pérez had already captured the attention of everyone at Real Madrid. At just 15, his rise through Real Madrid Castilla had been nothing short of meteoric. The club's youth setup knew they had something special on their hands, but even they were unsure of just how far this young player could go. His skills were undeniable—vision, technique, passing, and the kind of natural leadership that you only saw in players who had been at the top of their game for years. Now, after years of relentless work and proving himself time and time again, the inevitable call had come. It was time for Maradona Pérez to make the jump.
The phone call from his grandfather, Florentino Pérez, had come that morning, cutting through the stillness of his room. The Real Madrid president's voice had carried with it a certain weight, no doubt matching the significance of the words he spoke.
"Maradona, come to my office. We need to talk."
For a moment, Maradona thought he could hear the faintest trace of excitement in his grandfather's voice, a voice usually reserved for business rather than emotion. But Maradona had long learned that this was no ordinary day. He threw on his clothes quickly and headed to Santiago Bernabéu, knowing that whatever this conversation was about, it would change everything.
When he arrived at Florentino's office, the view of Madrid stretched out in the distance, an ever-present reminder of the weight of the legacy he was stepping into. His grandfather sat behind a massive desk, papers neatly stacked, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes—a gleam Maradona had seen before when his grandfather was about to make a monumental decision.
"I've been watching you closely, Maradona, and the time has come. The board agrees—you're ready for the next step."
Maradona's heart skipped. His voice barely contained his excitement as he asked, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
Florentino leaned back, his gaze sharpening as he replied, "Starting next week, you'll be training with the senior team."
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Training with the first team. He had known this day was coming, but the reality of it still hit him hard. He had spent his entire life dreaming of moments like this—of wearing the Real Madrid colors, not just for Castilla, but for the senior team. He nodded, though his face remained composed, as it always did.
"I won't let you down." His words were simple, but they carried all the resolve he had in his being.
His grandfather smiled, a rare, genuine smile. "I know you won't."
The next week, Maradona found himself walking into the first-team dressing room at Valdebebas, the club's training ground. The atmosphere was unlike anything he had ever experienced. This was where the legends of the game gathered every day—the likes of Raúl, Cristiano Ronaldo, Iker Casillas, and Guti. The room hummed with a mix of veteran calm and fiery determination. It was intimidating but exhilarating at the same time.
As he stepped onto the training pitch, he felt the eyes of every player on him. Some nodded in greeting, while others looked him over, sizing him up. But it was Bernd Schuster, the manager, who had the final say in what happened next. Known for his tactical expertise and laid-back management style, Schuster had a reputation for giving young players freedom to express themselves, trusting them to find their rhythm.
Schuster's voice echoed across the field as the session began. "Alright, Maradona, show us what you've got."
Maradona stood tall and nodded, a quiet confidence in his eyes. He had been waiting for this moment for years. This was his stage, his time to prove that he was ready for the next level.
From the moment the ball touched his feet, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he belonged. His first pass—a simple flick over the top to Karim Benzema—was perfectly weighted, and Benzema finished with ease. The players watching couldn't help but murmur their approval. But that was just the beginning. Maradona's control of the game was evident in the way he dictated the pace, his ability to read the play and always make the right decision. He wasn't just a midfielder; he was the team's orchestrator.
The training session continued, and Maradona's confidence grew with each touch. A pass to Cristiano Ronaldo from deep in the midfield—perfectly threaded through the defense—was met with a powerful shot that rattled the crossbar. Ronaldo shot him a nod of approval, his expression a mix of respect and recognition.
Even Raúl, who had seen countless young players come and go, pulled Maradona aside after a particularly impressive move. "You've got vision, kid. You've got something special. Just remember, this isn't Castilla. You have to prove it every day."
Maradona simply nodded, the fire in his eyes undimmed. He had no intention of fading into the background. Not now, not ever.
Over the next few days, as the buzz around him grew louder, Maradona could feel the pressure mounting. Marca and AS were full of stories about him: "The Prodigy Who Could Replace Raúl" and "Maradona Pérez: The Heir to a Legacy". The fans were excited, but with excitement came expectation. Was he ready to step into a squad full of the world's best players?
Maradona didn't care about the headlines. He wasn't doing this for the media. He was doing this for himself, to carve his name into the history of Real Madrid.
Then, the news came. There was a Copa del Rey match on the horizon, and Schuster had decided that it was time for Maradona to make his official debut. The game, against a second-division side, was the perfect opportunity for the young star to step onto the Bernabéu pitch and showcase his talents in front of thousands.
The night of the match, Maradona sat on the bench, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched the game unfold as Raúl and Cristiano Ronaldo both scored in the first half. By the 60th minute, the score was comfortable, but Schuster made the call.
"Maradona, get ready."
His name rang through the Bernabéu, and the crowd's reaction was immediate—there was a sense of anticipation, a feeling that something special was about to happen.
As he jogged onto the pitch to replace Kaká, the roar of the crowd almost drowned out everything else. Maradona took his position in midfield, calm as ever, despite the weight of the moment.
His first touch was precise—a short pass to Xabi Alonso, who returned the ball. Maradona took a touch and quickly spotted Benzema making a run. Without hesitation, he threaded a ball through the defense with the kind of pinpoint accuracy that only players like Zidane and Kroos could manage. Benzema controlled it beautifully and finished clinically.
The crowd went wild, but Maradona didn't flinch. He'd been here before—he just had to keep showing everyone that this was where he belonged.
As the match continued, he exhibited the full range of his abilities. A quick turn to evade a defender, a perfectly timed tackle in midfield, and a beautiful cross for Benzema to finish off his second goal. It was a statement performance. The world would know that Maradona Pérez had arrived.
Back in the locker room, as the players celebrated the win, Maradona felt that familiar surge. The system had recognized his growth. A new ability unlocked, enhancing his already impressive skillset.
[New Ability Acquired!]
Patrick Vieira's Physicality & Defensive Presence
Strength, tackling, stamina, midfield dominance.
He could feel it course through him. Maradona Pérez was no longer just a young talent—he was a complete player, capable of taking on any challenge, no matter how tough. The first-team spotlight was his now, and he was ready for whatever came next.
As he walked off the field, the cheers from the Bernabéu rang in his ears. He had arrived.