"Is Barcelona not included in that group? They have Messi!"
Laura Woods leaned forward, her eyes wide, capturing the quote of the summer!
Theodore didn't blink.
He gave a casual shrug, his face was full of confidence.
"Yes. Barcelona are not on the same level as Real Madrid at all," Theodore answered calmly. "Last season, Barcelona lost 2-8 to Bayern Munich in the Champions League quarterfinals. And this summer, they sold Suárez..."
He paused, letting the weight of the statement settle. "When Messi loses Suárez, his threat will be greatly reduced. Of course, that is only my personal opinion, we still need time to see what will really happen in La Liga."
Laura Woods, sensing the goldmine she was sitting on, pivoted to the ultimate prize.
"You just mentioned the Champions League, so let's talk about that. As everyone knows, last season you helped Aston Villa win the Europa League for the first time in their history. But the Europa League and the Champions League are not on the same level in terms of competition. How far do you think Real Madrid can go in the Champions League next season?"
"To the very end," Theodore answered almost without thinking.
"You mean Real Madrid will reach the Champions League final?" she asked, probing for a more concrete answer.
Theodore shook his head slowly. "I mean Real Madrid will win the Champions League."
He continued, his voice ringing with absolute determination. "I joined Real Madrid for only one goal, and that is to help the club win every possible trophy. It will be very difficult, but I am confident I can achieve it."
Laura Woods smiled, preparing her final question.
It was the one the audience cared about most.
"Last season, you won the Premier League Golden Boot. Do you have confidence in winning the La Liga Golden Boot next season? Since the 2015-16 season, Messi has won the La Liga Golden Boot for the last four seasons."
It was a massive question.
For a midfielder to outscore Lionel Messi over a 38-game season was borderline fantasy.
Theodore raised his eyebrows slightly. "Actually, I've never cared too much about individual awards. Compared to winning the La Liga Golden Boot, I hope Real Madrid can win the La Liga title even more."
He offered a slight, dangerous smile.
"Of course, I am very confident about breaking Messi's hold on the La Liga Golden Boot. I'm already looking forward to the new season!"
...
The director yelled cut.
The cameras stopped rolling and the tense, professional atmosphere evaporated instantly.
"Theodore, tomorrow morning at eight, we'll meet at the Bernabéu. Our filming team will record a video of you there. We can also continue the interview work at the stadium."
"Okay," Theodore nodded, rolling his shoulders.
Laura Woods suddenly unzipped her oversized tote bag, her professional demeanor replaced by a sheepish, excited grin.
She pulled out a stack of pristine white Real Madrid shirts.
"Theodore, can you do me a huge favor?" she pleaded, holding out a marker. "Please sign them! I want to keep them as souvenirs."
Theodore looked at the five or six shirts bundled in her arms and chuckled. "Are you keeping all of these as souvenirs?"
"No, no!" Laura Woods quickly clarified, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I'm only keeping one for myself. The others are for my close friends back home, I swear!"
"Sure," Theodore laughed, taking the marker and scrawling his signature across the iconic Number 10 on each shirt.
They chatted comfortably for a while longer before the crew packed up and left the La Finca villa.
...
Early the next morning, Theodore met Laura Woods and the Sky Sports Channel crew at the gates of the Santiago Bernabéu.
Real Madrid PR had been notified, and they were granted exclusive access.
As Laura Woods stepped out of the tunnel and onto the immaculate grass, she stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth falling open.
Even completely empty, the towering, steep stands of the Bernabéu felt like a cathedral.
It was magnificent.
The crew set up for a live broadcast.
The 'Bjorn Effect' was instant.
Just sixty seconds after the stream went live, the viewer count smashed past 100,000.
The barrage of comments was blinding.
"Wow! It really is Theodore! He looks so good in white!"
"Are they actually on the pitch at the Bernabéu?!"
"That's right! The sacred ground! I can't breathe!"
"I cannot wait to see him tear it up in El Clásico!"
"Lead us to the 14th, King Theo!"
...
The live interview lasted for half an hour.
Laura Woods deliberately dragged out her questions, pacing herself.
She knew that once the camera shut off, she had to board a flight back to London.
She wouldn't see him again for at least a month.
Finally, the crew wrapped up and loaded their gear into the waiting vans outside the stadium.
As Laura Woods turned to say goodbye, Theodore suddenly spoke up.
"By the way, will you still be following the team for interviews next season?"
"I'm not sure yet, but there is a very good chance I will," she answered, a hopeful note in her voice. "Real Madrid are one of the biggest beats in Europe now that you're here..."
"Good," Theodore nodded. "Then when you come to Madrid next time, I'll treat you to a meal when you have some free time. I found a really good restaurant near the training ground."
Laura Woods's face lit up instantly. "It's a deal! You're not allowed to back out!"
"Don't worry," Theodore smiled. "I won't."
...
With the media obligations finally cleared, Theodore locked himself into a strict regimen.
Pre-season training camp was two weeks away, and he needed to be razor-sharp.
Playing for Real Madrid wasn't just a job; it was an intense, global crucible.
He felt a mix of nerves, excitement, and a heavy sense of responsibility.
July 30th.
Day One of Pre-Season.
Theodore pulled into the sprawling Valdebebas complex.
However, it was eerily quiet.
The international superstars who had competed in the late stages of European competitions were still on extended holidays.
The camp was populated entirely by academy prospects (Castilla players) and deep reserves.
Consequently, when Theodore walked into the dressing room, the atmosphere changed instantly.
To the young academy players, the €320 million man wasn't just a teammate, he was a living god!
They swarmed him instantly, begging for autographs and selfies.
"Theodore!" "Welcome to Madrid, man!"
Just as he finished signing a pair of boots for a nervous Castilla winger, a familiar voice cut through the chatter.
He spun around.
It was his Norwegian national teammate, Martin Ødegaard.
"Martin?!" Theodore exclaimed in genuine shock, pulling the midfielder into a massive hug. "What are you doing here?"
Ødegaard hugged him back, but his smile was tight, laced with a bitter sort of resignation.
"My loan at Real Sociedad ended, so I came back," Ødegaard explained, keeping his voice low. "But from what I know about Florentino and Zidane... if I don't perform flawlessly in preseason, they will definitely send me out on loan again. It's the Madrid way."
Theodore felt a pang of sympathy.
Ødegaard had joined Madrid as a 16-year-old prodigy, much like Theodore, but had spent years bouncing around Europe on loan, never quite securing a permanent spot in the brutal Madrid midfield hierarchy.
"Don't worry about it," Theodore said, slapping his friend hard on the shoulder. "I've got your back."
Ødegaard looked up.
"I'll give you the assists in the matches, you just focus on burying them. We'll make sure you stay at Madrid this season."
A genuine, relieved smile finally broke across Ødegaard's face.
"Theodore! My brother! Hearing you say that... I feel ten times better!"
Because Zinedine Zidane was still vacationing in Ibiza, the first week of training was overseen by his trusted assistant, Hamidou Msaidie.
Msaidie kept things light for the first two days, focusing purely on cardio and recovery.
By day three, the physical contact drills began.
Theodore dominated them effortlessly.
...
A week later, August 7th arrived and the Galácticos had returned.
The parking lot at Valdebebas looked like a luxury car dealership.
Karim Benzema, Luka Modrić, Toni Kroos, Casemiro, Eden Hazard, Sergio Ramos, Marcelo, and Thibaut Courtois all strolled into the complex.
Sergio Ramos, the legendary captain, sought Theodore out immediately.
"Theodore, welcome to Real Madrid," Ramos said, offering a firm handshake and a clap on the back.
"If you have any problems, with the team, the city, the press... you come straight to me."
"Understood. Thank you, Captain," Theodore replied respectfully.
Ramos commanded absolute authority in the dressing room.
You didn't cross him.
"Listen to me, Theodore," Ramos continued, his dark eyes intense. "If you can play at the exact same level you showed for Aston Villa, and when you destroyed us with Norway... I believe we can win both the Champions League and La Liga this season."
Ramos wasn't blowing smoke.
He had felt Theodore's power firsthand during their international clash. He knew exactly what the kid was capable of.
"I'll give everything I have, Captain."
As they spoke, a hush fell over the dressing room.
Zinedine Zidane had arrived.
The legendary Frenchman, an icon both as a player and a manager, walked straight toward Theodore's locker.
Zidane offered a warm smile, patting Theodore's shoulder.
"Not bad, Theodore. You have kept your body in very good condition. It looks like you are already prepared for the new season."
"I am, Coach. I'm ready."
Zidane's smile faded slightly, replaced by a stern, authoritative look.
"Very good. But I need to make one thing perfectly clear from day one. I don't care that the club spent a world-record fee to bring you here. I don't care that you are a global superstar."
He locked eyes with the teenager. "You still need to earn your minutes on my pitch through hard work in training and performances in matches. Real Madrid is not Aston Villa. We never lack talented superstars here. No one is guaranteed a starting spot. I hope you understand that."
It was a classic managerial power play, designed to keep a young ego in check.
"Of course," Theodore answered simply, meeting Zidane's gaze without blinking. "That is not a problem."
Zidane, unaware that the eighteen-year-old standing before him possessed the mature mindset of a reincarnated adult, nodded, satisfied with the response.
Zidane blew his whistle, calling the entire squad to the center circle of the training pitch.
Hamidou Msaidie organized the players into two neat rows.
Zidane stood before them, his aura commanding absolute silence.
"Last season, we won La Liga," Zidane began, his voice echoing across the empty fields. "But we lost to Real Sociedad in the Copa del Rey. And in the Champions League, we were badly beaten by Manchester City in the round of sixteen!"
He paced slowly. "For a super club like Real Madrid, last season was a failure. The standards here are higher."
"This season, we have three targets. Target one: The Champions League. Target two: Defend La Liga. Target three: The Copa del Rey and the Supercopa. We want everything!"
He gestured to the new faces, including Theodore.
"This summer, players left, and incredible talent joined us. I expect everyone to fight for the badge, support each other, and help this club win."
The squad applauded in unison.
"Two final things," Zidane said, raising a finger. "FIFA has instituted two changes for the new season. One: VAR is now fully active. Two: We are allowed five substitutions per match, but only three windows to make them. Understand the rules."
"One week from now, we fly to the United States for our pre-season tour. Our first opponent is Ajax, Prepare yourselves!"
The intense tactical and technical drills began immediately.
During the morning passing circuits, Theodore deliberately paired up with Ødegaard.
Their telepathic connection from the national team was instantly apparent.
They pinged the ball between themselves with blind, one-touch precision.
At 1:00 PM, Zidane organized a full-pitch 11v11 scrimmage to assess match fitness.
Theodore was placed on the 'Blue Team' alongside Modrić, Benzema, and Ødegaard.
The 'Red Team' was stacked with elite talent: Courtois in goal, Rodrygo, Vinícius Jr., Toni Kroos, and Casemiro.
The match was scheduled for thirty minutes.
And it ended in an absolute massacre.
The final score was 11-0 to the Blue Team.
The Red Team, packed with Champions League winners, was utterly humiliated.
The primary reason for the annihilation was Theodore Bjorn.
Playing with terrifying intensity, Theodore scored four goals himself.
True to his word, he also provided three pinpoint assists, serving them on a silver platter for Ødegaard to complete a hat-trick.
When Zidane blew the final whistle, the Red Team players collapsed onto the turf, staring at the sky in disbelief.
Toni Kroos and Casemiro exchanged shell-shocked glances.
It was their first taste of the Norwegian monster.
They finally understood why Florentino had paid €320 million for him!
Zidane stood on the touchline, attempting to hide a massive grin.
The kid was ready!
For the friendly match against Ajax in the United States, Theodore's name was the first one Zidane wrote on the squad list.