Garrincha. Jairzinho. Didi. Leonidas. Gabigol. That was what I expected by the end of my time here at Botafogo, maybe I am thinking ahead but it will happen.
I stood still for a moment, staring ahead as the gates of Botafogo FR's academy opened in front of us.
This was it.
The Botafogo academy was a sight to see, not like the streets. Not like the pitches I grew up on.
Two main buildings stood tall, both dressed in black like they were wearing the badge with pride. Between them stretched a courtyard that felt too clean, fountains running softly, water catching the light, flowerbeds lined up perfectly like someone had measured every inch.
The club crest sat on both buildings, bold and impossible to ignore. And right across the front, written like it meant something more than just words.
"Existem coisas que só acontecem ao Botafogo."
I exhaled slowly.
"Yeah…" I muttered under my breath.
"Guess we'll see about that."
Noa stood beside me, quieter than usual for once. "This place is… different."
"Scared?" I smirked.
He scoffed immediately. "Of course not. Ok…Maybe a little."
I laughed lightly, then looked forward again.
Players moved around the courtyard, some training, some talking, some just watching us like they already knew we didn't belong here yet.
Carlos stepped ahead of us, hands in his pockets like he'd been here a thousand times before. "Try not to embarrass me," he said casually.
Carlos slowly stepped towards the doors, holding his phone like he was holding the key to the whole place. Which turned out it was.
"Did I ever mention I worked for Botafogo?"
Carlos said casually, like he was talking about the weather.
"NO????" Noa's jaw dropped.
I stopped walking for a second, blinking at him. "…You're joking."
"Well, that is kind of how I got you this opportunity…" Carlos shrugged, completely unfazed. "I work as a scout… sorry to break your hearts, kids."
He stepped into the building. The inside of the building was a sleek, modern interior that felt more like a corporate headquarters than a place of sport. Soft grey carpet stretched across the floor in patterns, softening every footstep, while pale walls and clean lines gave the space a quiet elegance. A low partition split the room without closing it off, revealing a lounge area dressed in light and muted tones, where sofas sat untouched, as if waiting for important conversations that hadn't happened yet. A tall vase filled with bare branches stood like a deliberate piece of art, adding just enough life to break the precision of the room. On the wall, a glowing screen displayed a football pitch, a silent reminder of the game that defined everything here. Near a glass-paneled door leading deeper into the building.
"Ahhh, Carlos. Good to see you here, who are the children?"
The voice came from the reception desk, rough and low.
Carlos didn't miss a beat.
"This is our newest youth prospects!" he said, almost proudly. "Scouted by the man himself. Carlos Demi. Meet Noa Bernard… and Gabriel De Souza."
A man approached us like the ground should move out of his way. Big presence. Heavy steps. Like he could walk straight through a wall if he felt like it.
He wore a brown tweed cap that somehow looked official, like it belonged there. Black-framed sunglasses, even indoors. A long quilted black jacket hung off him, and when he took the cap off, a burst of dark orange hair fell out, wild and thick. His beard stretched down his neck, rough but kept.
He stopped in front of us.
"My name is Angus McFife," he said, voice deep and steady. "And I'm the head coach of the Brazil U-20. It's good to meet you youngsters."
Another man stepped out from behind him, quieter, more composed. Same style, black jacket, clean look but without the tweed cap. Instead, a simple baseball cap and a black scarf wrapped around his neck.
"And I'm Josh. Josh House," he added. "I'm Angus's assistant. You can say we're here to scout players for the upcoming 2025 U-20 World Cup in China."
"These must be the boys you've been speaking about," Angus said, brushing his hair back slowly, eyes scanning both of us like he was already making decisions.
"These are the kids you've been coaching?" he added, glancing at Carlos.
Carlos folded his arms, a small grin forming. "The very same."
Angus nodded slowly.
"I see potential in both of them."
Josh stepped slightly closer, his eyes sharper than Angus's, more focused.
"Potential's one thing," he said. "But can they handle it?"
His gaze landed on me.
"Because talent alone won't get you anywhere near that squad. How old even are these kids…?"
Carlos didn't hesitate.
"Fifteen," he replied, calm as ever. "Both of them."
Josh raised an eyebrow slightly, like he was doing quick calculations in his head.
"Fifteen…" he repeated. "And you're throwing them into this level already?"
Carlos smirked. "They earned it."
Angus let out a low hum, stepping a little closer to us now. Up close, he felt even bigger, like he filled the space without trying.
"Seventeen is young," he said, voice steady. "But not too young."
His eyes shifted between me and Noa.
"Depends on what's in here."
He tapped his temple.
"And here."
Then his finger dropped, tapping lightly against my chest.
I didn't flinch.
Josh watched that. Noted it.
"Confidence isn't the same as readiness," he added.
I tilted my head slightly. "Then test it."
A small pause.
Carlos's grin widened..
Josh let out a quiet breath through his nose, almost like a half-laugh.
"You don't waste time, do you?"
"No," I said simply.
Another silence.
Short.
Then Angus clapped his hands once, the sound echoing slightly in the clean space.
"Good," he said. "I like that."
He turned, gesturing toward the glass-paneled door deeper inside the building.
"Then let's not stand around talking about it."
Josh stepped aside, but his eyes didn't leave me.
"We'll see what you're made of," he said.
I smirked slightly, maybe I could get a call up without even playing a game.