Gil watched Sculli’s expression and said in a low voice, “Did you see it?”
Sculli did not shift his gaze.
“I saw it.”
In the 18th minute, Tobías delivered another pass that made one’s scalp tingle.
This time, he received the ball with his back to the goal near the center circle, with two B Team players marking him closely.
He did not force a turn; he simply back-heeled the ball to a teammate behind him while immediately making a diagonal run forward.
The teammate passed it back.
Tobías met the ball without stopping it and immediately played a chipped pass, sending the ball between the B Team’s left center back and the full-back.
The A Team’s right winger burst out from the back line.
The angle for the one-on-one was a bit tight, and the final shot hit the side netting.
But this move made even the B Team goalkeeper curse under his breath.
“Don’t just stare at the ball!
Watch the players!”
The B Team’s left center back was anxious.
“How are we supposed to watch him?
He was still at the center circle before he passed!”
“So how did that ball get behind me?”
No one answered, because they wanted to know the answer too.
Sculli took a deep breath.
He turned to look at Gil, his tone much heavier than before.
“I retract what I just said.”
Gil was stunned.
“What?”
“It’s not Makélélé.”
Sculli stared at Tobías, his eyes growing brighter.
“He is a Redondo-style midfield genius.”
Gil’s heart jumped violently.
Sculli continued, “He doesn’t just have defensive strength.
He can predict, he can intercept, and he can protect the area in front of the defenders.”
“But more importantly, he has offensive talent.”
“His passing has imagination; it’s not the kind of ‘safe’ ball taught in youth team templates.”
“He knows how to position himself, how to lure the defense, and how to use a single pass to throw the entire defensive line off balance.”
Gil’s breathing sped up as he listened; this praise was too high.
Coming from the mouth of the sporting director, it carried even more weight.
Sculli looked toward the pitch, no longer in the mood to stand and watch the rest.
“I want to have a detailed talk with him right now.”
Gil’s expression changed.
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now.”
Sculli said, “You can’t wait on a player like this.
If we wait until the derby ends, until the footage gets out, and until the scouts from Europe hear wind of it, that would be a dereliction of duty by the club’s management.”
Gil’s mouth twitched.
He was, of course, happy that Tobías was being noticed.
But when he thought of that string of clauses—the youth team internal scout development bonus, discovery reward, and debut reward—his heart ached.
If Tobías was taken away directly by the sporting director, whose credit would it be later?
As the head coach of the youth team, he would certainly have a share, but any less meant less money.
“Tobías!”
Tobías stopped and looked toward the sideline.
Gil waved at him.
“Come off.”
Giovanni was stunned.
“Coach?
He’s in great form!”
The A Team players were also a bit surprised.
“Subbing him off already?”
“Tobías just opened up the game.”
“Are you trying to protect him?”
Tobías didn’t ask anything; he just ran to the sideline.
After subbing him off, Gil said in a low voice, “Go take a shower and change your clothes.
Mr.
Sculli wants to talk to you.”
Tobías glanced at Sculli, who was standing nearby.
Sculli nodded at him.
“You played very well.”
Tobías said calmly, “Thank you.”
Gil watched Tobías walk toward the locker room, his heart still aching over his bonus.
Sculli, as if reading his mind, suddenly smiled.
“Don’t worry, Gil.”
Gil was stunned, and Sculli patted his shoulder.
“The scout reward that belongs to you will be guaranteed by the club.
You were the first to submit the report; no one will erase that.”
The tension on Gil’s face instantly relaxed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
Sculli smiled.
“But I also know that the bonuses for you youth team coaches aren’t much.”
Gil coughed dryly and stopped pretending.
After training ended, Tobías changed his clothes and was taken to the office building.
Sculli was waiting for him at the end of the hallway, holding a thermos.
“Tobías, would you like some mate?”
Tobías glanced at it and shook his head.
“I only drink coffee.”
Sculli was stunned for a moment, then laughed.
“Very good, you have personality.”
He handed the thermos to a staff member beside him.
“Then prepare some coffee for him; we at River Plate respect a player’s habits.”
Tobías did not respond.
Sculli led him into the office.
This office was not luxurious, but there were many photos hanging on the walls.
There were group photos of the River Plate first team winning championships, as well as stars who had moved on from River Plate.
Although Tobías was young, he knew that the person in front of him was no simple figure.
Sculli was not just an ordinary member of management.
He had orchestrated several major transfers for River Plate and held significant power within the club.
Which youth team player could be promoted, who could be highlighted, and who could enter the view of the first team—his word was crucial.
After sitting down, Sculli did not beat around the bush.
“Tobías, I’ve seen your training, and I’ve also seen your previous records.”
“You were inconsistent in the past, and your physical contact ability wasn’t strong; these problems still exist.”
“But what you showed today is enough for the club to re-evaluate your future.”
He pushed a document toward Tobías.
“River Plate wants to sign a new contract with you.”
Tobías opened the document.
Annual salary: 400,000 Euros.
Release clause: 12,000,000 Euros.
Image rights and naming rights: The club will not forcibly claim them, retaining only the right of first refusal for cooperation.
Additionally, the supplementary clauses in the contract were written very clearly.
As long as Tobías maintained stable performance in the youth team, the club would arrange for him to participate in first-team training trials within this season.
After reading it, Tobías didn’t speak immediately.
Sculli observed his expression.
A typical sixteen-year-old player would have lost control long ago upon seeing this contract.
A 400,000 Euro annual salary was already an extremely generous offer for a youth team player.
The 12,000,000 Euro release clause also meant the club wouldn’t let him go easily.
Not to mention not claiming image and naming rights—this was extremely important for his future commercial value.
But Tobías was too calm, so calm that he didn’t seem like a young man who had just been recognized.
Sculli spoke first.
“If you have any thoughts, you can say them directly.”
Tobías closed the contract and looked up.
“River Plate wants to quickly mold me, give me matches, give me exposure, and then package me as the next generation of midfield genius in South America.”
Sculli raised his eyebrows slightly.
Tobías continued, “If I make it, European clubs will make offers.
River Plate will profit from the transfer fee, and I will be able to go to a higher platform.”
The office was silent for half a second.
Sculli laughed.
“You are more clear-headed than I thought.”
Tobías said, “I have only one request.”
“Speak.”
“In the future, if there is a suitable offer from a European club, I hope River Plate will not use the contract to forcibly block me.”
Sculli leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk.
He was not angry; on the contrary, he was more satisfied.
For a sixteen-year-old player, knowing what he wants is more important than anything else.
River Plate was never the final destination.
The greatest value of the River Plate youth team is development, matches, packaging, and exporting to Europe.
With both sides sharing the same goal, the negotiation was very simple.
/c/DRUNK_TL(remove space between)