Rise of a Football God-Chapter 427: The legend of Sam

Afterall, he was also in a great mood; he was excited.

Charging to the corner flag, Sam jumped over the broadcasting board and when he got to the blockade, he jumped again, climbing it and with that, the fans closest to the blockade embraced him excitedly.

"COME ON!!!"

They screamed, hugging Sam, pumping their fists excitedly.

Sam hugged them back, feeling his blood pump rapidly like it was being channeled from a high-pressure pumping machine. His adrenaline levels were high.

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

Not just Sam, other FC Barcelona fans joined him, celebrating with him as the whole club and its gigantic fanbase went haywire in the passion of the game.

As for Manchester City?

After that last goal, Ruben Dias, the Manchester City defender finally gave up, falling to his butt as he sprawled helplessly on the pitch, looking at the sky with a distant, confused expression on his face.

Anyone who saw him could read the silent question on his face.

'How?!'

Just how did the bastard do it?

Scoring a hattrick of freekicks in a single game, and in such a pivotal game too, against Manchester City, in the quarterfinal of the UEFA Champions League.

Most of the other Man City players, especially the defenders were like Ruben Dias, sprawled helplessly on the pitch, some sitting, distant looks on their faces while others simply laid down on the pitch, utterly exhausted.

And then, the commentators finally started waxing lyrical.

They couldn't help it, it felt like a travesty not to gush about this performance, and literally worship it.

"Ah, what a game!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, what we are witnessing tonight is not merely football, it's artistry painted in technicolour on the canvas of the UEFA Champions League".

"Etch his name in the stars, because tonight, under the lights of the Spotify Camp Nou, a legend has been carved into stone!"

"Four goals. FOUR!"

"Against Manchester City, the behemoth of English football, the oil-rich juggernaut that crushes dreams for breakfast".

"But not tonight. Tonight, they were made to bow".

"And not just bow, to kneel before a one-man orchestra in Blaugrana".

"Barcelona's maestro, the architect of chaos, the sculptor of moments divine!"

"Three, yes, THREE freekicks, script that!"

"Three freekicks, each one more audacious than the last. As if Poseidon himself curled the ball with tridents of pure magic".

"From over 30 yards, from the flank, even from a near-impossible angle that mocked geometry itself; each strike bent time, defied physics, and found the net like destiny written in flame".

"He's not just a player. He's a religion. A philosophy. The reincarnation of every great that ever wore the crest".

"And that overhead kick? My God!"

"A moment of pure insolence. Sam against Ruben Dias and John Stones, Sam against the world, and yet, physicality bordering on divine, control bordering on the otherworldly, and a finish that whispered, 'You are not worthy', as the ball almost kissed the underside of the crossbar before nestling home".

"The Nou Camp isn't roaring, its weeping. Overwhelmed".

"The gods of football have chosen their prophet. His boots are dipped in gold, his breath sings hymns of victory, and his name… oh, his name will echo through the rivers of time like thunder".

"Samuel Moses, Barcelona's golden child, the tormentor of Manchester, the miracle in human form".

"Take a bow, genius".

"The night belongs to you!"

The celebrations took even longer than expected, stretching on as the fans did not want to let their players back to the pitch and even the players were reluctant to return to the pitch.

The score line was now 4-1, and the aggregate score was now 5-3.

The tie was more or less decided, but then, the game must continue.

As soon as the players returned to the pitch though and Manchester City dispiritedly kicked off the game, a familiar sound cut through the stadium.

The referee's whistle.

FWEEEE!

The game was over.

Immediately, the stadium that was just barely calmed down erupted again in ecstasy, the players running across the pitch as they celebrated this legendary performance in their home stadium.

Tonight, it was all Samuel Moses.

His name was written and plastered all over the game but in the end, it was a collective team effort, and so his teammates could also bask in the glory.

While they ran across the pitch, celebrating, the fans also celebrated, jumping restlessly in the stands like a crowd of drunk.

Tonight was a night to never forget in the Spotify Camp Nou.

It was a night where history was created.

A night where Samuel Moses solidified his name among the list of all-time greats at just 20 years of age.

Sam didn't just stop at running round the pitch, celebrating excitedly with his teammates. After hugging all his teammates, he charged towards an emotional Hansi Flick, his coach who still stood in the touchline.

As soon as Sam arrived, he hugged his coach, lifting him up excitedly.

Hansi Flick laughed, cried, and celebrated.

The German coach was a veteran of the game. He already overseed lots of Champions League nights like this one and not just for FC Barcelona, and yet, what he felt this night, he had never felt it anywhere before now.

Tonight was unforgettable.