Chapter 37: Standing tall, breathing easy
The European football world awoke the morning after Matchday 3 of the new-look UEFA Champions League league phase with fresh storylines, surprise results, and early statements of intent.
The standings told their own tale.
Barcelona, fresh from a resounding second half dismantling of Benfica in Lisbon, now sat joint-top of the league phase table with 9 points from 3 games.
Their +8 goal difference was second only to Manchester City’s, whose ruthless demolition of RB Salzburg had made headlines.
Real Madrid were just behind on 9 points too but with a lesser goal difference after their gritty win away at Lazio, keeping themselves well within the qualification pack.
The numbers mattered, but so did the manner of their victories, and both Spanish giants had delivered football that demanded respect.
[Updated UEFA Champions League – League Phase Standings:]
[Top 10 – After Matchday 3:]
1. Manchester City – 9 points – GD: +10
2. Barcelona – 9 points – GD: +8
3. Real Madrid – 9 points – GD: +6
4. Paris Saint Germain – 9 points – GD: +6
5. Chelsea – 7 points – GD: +3
6. Inter Milan – 7 points – GD: +2
7. Liverpool – 6 points – GD: +6
8. Bayern Munich – 6 points – GD: +5
9. Borussia Dortmund – 6 points – GD: +1
10. Arsenal – 5 points – GD: 0
The European giants had flexed their muscle, but there were varying degrees of comfort in their wins.
Manchester City looked like a machine with Erling Haaland in terrifying form, his hat-trick against Salzburg pushing his season tally into double digits by early October. He played like 2023 Haaland.
Liverpool had overpowered Porto at Anfield in a 4-1 showcase of relentless pressing, Mohamed Salah and Florian Wirtz both scoring.
PSG were beginning to silence their doubts for a second consecutive season, following a clinical 3-0 victory over AC Milan that saw Ousmane Dembele and Khvicha Kvaratskhelia linking up like they’d played together for years, while Desire Doue’s dribbling drew applause from neutrals.
Bayern Munich faced a sterner test against Napoli, but a thunderous Michael Olise strike and Harry Kane’s penalty gave them a controlled 2-0 win in Munich.
Chelsea scrapped a nervy 2-1 away win at Shakhtar Donetsk, while Borussia Dortmund edged out Marseille with a late Youssoufa Moukoko goal.
There were also upsets. Juventus had fallen 0-1 to Galatasary in Istanbul, sending shockwaves through their campaign.
No one also saw Atletico’s 1-1 home draw against Celtic coming as it drew criticism from Spanish pundits who accused them of lacking cutting edge.
But it was Barcelona and Real Madrid’s results that owned the Spanish front pages. Both clubs were in terrific form.
Like expected, the Media Reactions was a frenzy.
["Barcelona are not just winning – they are evolving,"] wrote Marca, praising Hansi Flick’s tactical adjustments and the synergy between Sam Moses and Raphinha.
["Real Madrid’s patience pays in Rome,"] read AS, highlighting Xabi Alonso’s decision-making and Jude Bellingham’s commanding midfield performance against Lazio.
On social media, the debates were already on fire.
["Barca and Madrid are both top contenders – El Clasico in October is going to be war."]
["Sam Moses is inevitable."]
["Raphinha’s resurgence changes everything for Barca’s attack."]
["Madrid aren’t perfect, but they’re dangerous. Just wait until Mbappe clicks fully."]
The footballing world knew the coming months would be a battle of endurance, and no one was pulling punches.
...
For Sam, the past weeks had been a blur... three Champions League matches, then four La Liga fixtures, and international media duties stacked end to end.
His internal engine, driven by that unseen system that never let him slack was still running at full tilt. But for once, someone managed to hit the brakes.
That someone was Kayla.
The morning after the Benfica game, she stood at the doorway of their Barcelona apartment’s kitchen, arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
"You’re not touching your boots today," she said.
"Huh?" Sam looked up from his breakfast. "I’ve got recovery work to do. Also, light gym..."
"Nope," she waved a hand dismissively. "Not today. Today is mine".
Sam blinked. "Yours?"
"Yes, mine. No football. No training. Just me and you".
Sam just stared.
She had been planning it for weeks; a belated birthday celebration for the man who had turned 21 on August 6th but had been too busy chasing goals and trophies to properly mark it.
Well, while they were unmarried, maybe Sam could still wriggle through a situation like this. But now? No way.
By midafternoon, they were driving along the Catalan coast, Sam behind the wheel of his matte-black Range Rover, Kayla navigating them away from the city’s buzz.
The sun dipped low, painting the Mediterranean in shades of gold.
Their destination was a quiet seaside restaurant in Sitges, a favorite of locals but largely unknown to tourists. Tables were set on a wooden deck above the sand, candles flickering against the gentle sea breeze.
The staff, discreet and warm, led them to the farthest table overlooking the waves. No fans, no flashing cameras, just the sound of the ocean and the occasional pull.
They are slowly. Grilled sea bass, garlic prawns, and Kayla’s choice of a rich Catalan seafood stew.
Sam laughed more than he had in weeks, the tension in his shoulders easing as Kayla teased him about how he still managed to eat like a teenager despite being a global superstar.
"I mean, I’m a foodie, so yeah," he laughed.
After dessert, a shared slice of almond tart, Kayla reached into her bag and pulled out a small velvet box.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "What’s this?"
"Open it," she said.
With suspicion written all over his face, Sam opened it. Inside was a silver pendant on a fine chain, its design simple but elegant. Engraved on its back were a set of coordinates.
He turned it over in his hands, reading the numbers.
Recognition hit him instantly. "Abraka," he whispered. His hometown. The place where it all began.
Kayla smiled softly. "No matter where the world takes you... this will always bring you back home".
For a moment, Sam couldn’t speak. He just reached across the table, pulling her hand into his, the waves murmuring in the background.
After dinner, they strolled along the moonlit shore, shoes in hand, their footprints trailing behind them in the cool sand. Kayla leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.
"You don’t know how good it feels to just... have you here, no schedule, no pressure," she said.
Sam smiled faintly. "It’s strange. I’m so used to chasing the next match, the next challenge... sometimes I forget how to stand still".
She looked up at him. "Then remember this. You’re not just Samuel Moses, Barcelona’s star. You’re my Sam too".
Sam smiled and drew her in, hugging her tightly.
They paused to watch the waves roll in, the Mediterranean stretching endlessly before them. For once, Sam didn’t think about training sessions, tactical drills, or matchday lineups.
He thought about now. About her.
When they finally headed back to Barcelona that night, the pendant rested cool against his chest.
It wasn’t just a gift, it was a reminder.
A reminder that even legends need moments to breathe.