From La Masia: Was Always Destined for Greatness

Superstition in sports — a tale as old as competition itself.

"You'd think, at this level, everything's science, everything's stats... but when you're playing at the edge, chasing perfection, you'll take any edge you can get. And sometimes? That edge is something you can't explain."

That's how many professionals describe it — not magic, not logic — just a ritual. A rhythm. In the intensity of high-stakes competition, when tactics and talent meet pressure and unpredictability, athletes often need something that grounds them. For some, that anchor is superstition.

Cristiano Ronaldo, one of the most efficient and relentless goal-scorers of all time, insists on stepping onto the pitch with his right foot first. He's said that anything less throws off his rhythm. To some, that might sound strange. To him? It's structure.

Johan Cruyff, the father of Total Football and architect of Barcelona's footballing identity, once had a ritual that included smoking a cigarette before games, chewing gum, and slapping his goalkeeper's stomach. Bizarre? Maybe. But it helped him feel in control.

Then there's Laurent Blanc, the French defender, who religiously kissed goalkeeper Fabien Barthez's bald head before every match during France's legendary 1998 World Cup run. It became so symbolic that the entire team picked it up — part joke, part faith, all unity.

Outside of football, superstition thrives too.

Michael Jordan, arguably the greatest to ever touch a basketball, always wore his University of North Carolina shorts under his Chicago Bulls uniform — every single game. His secret armor.

LeBron James? The chalk toss before tip-off — iconic. A statement. A breath. A ritual.

And perhaps the most superstitious of them all — Rafael Nadal, tennis legend. The man who aligns his bottles a certain way, never crosses the lines on the court unless his foot does so perfectly, tugs at his shorts, and wipes his brow in the exact same sequence every point. For Nadal, ritual isn't quirk — it's fuel. The real life version of Shintaro Midorima from a popular basketball anime.

Superstition and elite performance seem strangely intertwined. For many of these athletes, their rituals aren't about luck. They're about focus, about stillness in the eye of the storm. A way to feel centered when millions watch, when legacy is at stake.

And then, there was Ronaldinho.

Not a man of routine — but of rhythm. The Samba soul of football. Yet even he had his tether.

"I've worn this during great moments. When it's on me, I feel me," he once said, holding up the frayed red Kabbalah bracelet he always tied around his left wrist.

In interviews, he admitted he felt "mentally off" without it. Not worse — just... disconnected.

"It doesn't ruin my talent... but maybe I don't feel the same," he'd say with a small smile.

Teammates, both at Barça and Brazil, swore by it — when the thread was missing, so was something else. Not the technique. Not the vision. Just... the spark. That untouchable aura.

It was just a thin, almost insignificant thread, but to him, it was like armor.

The tale of the man who made football dance wasn't only about joy and goals. It was also about that red thread — wrapped tightly, quietly, a guardian of rhythm, frayed by time, but tied with meaning.

And now, Mateo?

Mateo, who had been blessed with gifts some players spent decades chasing — touch, awareness, composure, finishing — suddenly felt... off.

The moment he saw that system prompt — [Ronaldinho's Superstition & Lucky Charm Beliefs] — something clicked.

Or rather... unclicked.

Because what the greats had all tried to describe? That dull edge when routine breaks, that strange sense that something is just slightly wrong, even when everything else is right?

Mateo felt it immediately.

His greatest strength His system— his ability to feel natural on the pitch, to move with confidence and freedom — had just grown a voice in the back of his head. And it whispered doubt.

And just like that...

His strength became his burden.

he stadium buzzed with life, chants from all corners rumbling like thunder across the Camp Nou. The referee's whistle cut through the noise, crisp and clear.

Kickoff.

Mateo nudged the ball forward a few paces and then tapped it back to Busquets with a simple pass, signaling the official start of the match.

"Ehn? Superstition? Beliefs? What?" Mateo blinked, still mildly stunned by the system prompt he'd seen seconds before kickoff. He shook his head hard, clearing the fog. Not now.

Shouts echoed from all over the pitch — instructions, quick movements, Getafe players pushing up already. Mateo snapped back into gear. Forget that, Mateo. This is game time. Focus.

He took off at a light jog, eyes darting. As a striker, his job wasn't just to score — it was to read, to predict, to be where the defenders didn't expect. He glanced once over his shoulder, checking the center-backs. Getafe were sitting in a mid-block, the kind that baits you, dares you to break them down. No space behind yet. Noted.

Barça's midfield moved with their usual rhythm — short passes, one-twos, always probing. Pedri picked up a pass from Busquets and began gliding into the half-space. Mateo curved his run slightly to stay onside, lifting his hand to signal.

Pedri saw it.

The ball came zipping toward him — chest height, slightly curling — and Mateo's thoughts aligned in perfect rhythm. Yes. Let's do this.

He prepared to control the pass with the underside of his boot, letting it roll into his path — his eyes scanning ahead, already clocking Griezmann making a diagonal run off the shoulder of Getafe's right center-back. I'll trap it and slip him through. Easy.

He raised his foot, body already leaning slightly left as he anticipated the contact…

…but the contact never came.

Mateo's foot swung through air.

He had misjudged the ball's speed and spin — it dropped a fraction earlier than he expected. His planted foot wobbled. His balance was off. In an almost cartoonish moment, his kicking leg fully extended with no ball underneath it — and momentum did the rest.

With a small yelp and a stunned expression, Mateo landed squarely on his backside.

A short gasp erupted from the crowd — then some confused murmurs — and then the moment passed.

Álvaro Benito, on commentary duty for LaLiga TV, let out a soft groan:

"Ay Mateo… completely misread that one!"

Jorge Valdano, his voice calm but amused, followed:

"That's a gift for Getafe! And look — Djené Dakonam was alert! He steps in and clears it deep!"

The ball, however, didn't travel far.

Gerard Piqué was alert — the experienced center-back shuffled across, calmly chesting the loose ball before tapping it back to Ter Stegen, who reset play from the back.

"Barcelona regains control," Álvaro Benito continued. "But there's a rare mistake from the wonderkid — the first sign of nerves, perhaps?"

Valdano chuckled softly.

"It happens, even to the best. Maybe it's good for him — reminds everyone he's still just seventeen."

Back on the pitch, Mateo sat up with a wince, rubbing the side of his hip.

"Yo, you good?" Pedri's voice reached him a second later, a hand already extended toward him.

Mateo blinked, then forced a grin as he took the hand. "Yeah, man… just a fluke. Sorry for wasting your pass."

Pedri chuckled, pulling him up with ease. "No worries, just stay sharp. There'll be more."

"Right." Mateo brushed his shorts, hiding his frustration as he jogged back into position.

But inside his head, the words echoed: I hope it really was just a fluke.

A/N

If you want to read 22 chapters ahead with daily uploads and to support me subscribe to my Patreon below There is also a picture of how mateo looks like posted and later there would be votes and all on the site some you wont need to pay to vote but you can if you want to support me thanks

patreon.com/David_Adetola

Thank You your support is greatly appreciated thank you all

Also for Bonus chapter if we can get 110 power stones within the next 24 hours i would post a new chapter

Also i want to apologize for taking a very long break somethings happened to me so i went but now im back and without bonus chapters i would maintain a weekly suply of 5-6 chapters

Also P.S the next few chapters are slow burn to give mateo a more personal feel and not just seem robotic thank you