Chapter 56: The golden crown [2]
The air buzzed with languages from across the globe. It felt like a gathering of nobles as deals whispered, rivalries rekindled, while laughter hid nerves.
Sam and Kayla took their seats near the front. Hansi Flick sat right behind them, with Raphinha and Pedri flanking him. Across the aisle, Mbappé smirked, Bellingham offered a polite nod, while Haaland just sat still as stone.
And then, the ceremony began.
The lights dimmed as the host, Didier Drogba strode across the stage, applause greeting him like an old friend.
His smile carried both pride and weight, the weight of an African legend denied the golden prize, but now here to witness the new era.
"Mesdames et messieurs," he said fluently in French, his voice booming with an easy smile on his face, "tonight we crown the best footballer in the world. But more than that... we crown history".
With his prompting, the opening reels began, highlights from last season.
Screens lit up with montages of Messi lifting another trophy with Inter Miami, Mbappé slicing through defenses with nonchalant ease, Haaland’s acrobatic goals raining in Manchester. Then Sam...
Once it got to his turn, the mood changed.
The screen showed his endless goals for Barcelona, the different varieties and flavors of them. They also showed tears in green and white as he lifted the AFCON for Nigeria, including his hattrick in the World Cup final, and then his hattrick last week at the Santiago Bernabéu replayed in slow motion.
By the end, the crowd were left murmuring. They’d seen these highlights all year but on this stage, woven into gold and light, it felt mythical.
And then the top ten in the Ballon d’Or rankings were finally displayed.
Names were announced one by one.
"Achraf Hakimi 10th..., Ronaldo 9th..., Haaland 8th..., Balde 7th..."
When Cristiano Ronaldo’s name was read at 9, the crowd gave a standing ovation to one of the kings of the old era. The tension thickened with each name. And then, at number 6. "Lionel Messi".
The theatre rose to applaud again, legends applauding the other king of the old era. Messi smiled and waved humbly, but the symbolism was clear. The old guard was passing the torch.
A few more names were called, Lamine Yamal and Raphinha making the top 5, and then the room suddenly hushed.
The hush was because it was time for the final three in the ranking. Drogba drew the pause deliberately to emphasize this moment, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, then he continued.
"In third place..."
DING!
The screen lit up. ["Pedri Gonzalez."]
The Barcelona midfielder smiled, graceful in defeat, and applause thundered in recognition of what he did last season in FC Barcelona’s midfield. The future belonged to him, but not tonight.
The cameras cut between Mbappé and Sam. The Frenchman had his jaw set, eyes blazing. There was a clear favorite tonight, but the Ballon d’Or had a history of shocking the world at times.
Who knew, maybe tonight was another night like that.
Sam? The Nigerian was calm as a river, his lips pressed thin and his eyes steady. It was down to two.
Drogba deliberately let the silence drag on, then his voice lowered. "And now... the moment of truth," he teased even more with a smile on his face.
Time slowed as the screens dimmed, then the envelope was passed. Drogba slit it open, pulling the card with a slow, knowing smile.
Every camera in the world locked on Sam and Mbappé.
For Mbappé, it was destiny deferred, a wait stretching across years. For Sam, it was immortality knocking far earlier than anyone expected.
And then, Drogba said it.
"Le Ballon d’Or 2026... goes to... Samuel Moses!"
BOOM!
The theatre detonated as applause like thunder erupted around the hall. They didn’t just applaud, they gave him a standing ovation.
The camera panned to Nigerian legends who attended the show tonight like Mikel Obi, Ahmed Musa, and even the likes of Jay Jay Okocha and Kanu Nwankwo. They all had proud smiles on their faces.
The Nigerian flag waved wildly, Barcelona players leaping to their feet in celebration even as the cameras flashed to immortalize the moment.
Lamine Yamal, Pedri, and Raphinha took turns hugging Sam where he sat to congratulate him. "You owe me a treat man," Yamal whispered into his ear after he hugged him.
Sam couldn’t react to any of it though. He froze for a heartbeat, blinking, chest tight, right until Kayla squeezed his hand and whispered, "Go."
Only then did he snap out of it. The first thought in his head was, ’I did it’. Sam took a deep breath, and then he rose.
The applause rolled like waves. Mbappé clapped, an easygoing smile finding its way back to his face. Like every other person in the world, he knew there was a clear favorite from the beginning, so he wasn’t affected by his loss.
Messi smiled faintly, and Ronaldo nodded once in acknowledgement.
Sam walked the aisle, his pendant glinting faintly against his chest as the stage lights gradually swallowed him. He instinctively touched the pendant right as he climbed the stage.
Didier Drogba embraced him.
The Ballon d’Or award sat on its pedestal, glowing, reflecting gold onto Sam’s face as the cameras zoomed close. The Nigerian boy from Abraka, who once kicked a deflated ball barefoot in the dust now stood crowned the best in the world.
Sam placed both hands on the trophy.
It was warm under the lights, heavy, almost alive. He couldn’t help the bright smile that was creeping over his face. He lifted the award slowly, raising it high as the theatre erupted again.
History was made... Africa’s third Ballon d’Or was secured tonight. Barcelona’s new king, the world’s brightest star got it.
Finally setting the trophy down, Sam took a deep breath before speaking, his voice steady but thick with emotion.
"Thank you. Merci. Gracias, damn, I want to use all the languages if I could". He smiled mischievously, finally regaining his calm.
He scratched the back of his head. "Well, I actually prepared a speech before now but standing here now, I don’t remember anything".
The crowd laughed.
"Ahem, anyways, I grew up in Abraka, Nigeria, a small town where football wasn’t luxury," he laughed. "In Abraka, football was survival".
"We played barefoot with broken balls, in dust and heat. I never dreamed of standing here. I dreamed only of playing, of feeling the ball".
"To make it here has to be the biggest twist of my life," he smiled.
"To my parents, my sister, my family, and my best friend, you gave me everything when we had nothing. You gave me all that I needed to flourish, I’m grateful for it all".
"And to my wife, Kayla," he blew a kiss at her with a loving smile on his face. "Thank you for keeping me grounded, for always being my stalwart amid the media frenzies of my profession, for always being my anchor".
The camera panned to Kayla who could not help blushing at the compliment on live TV.
Sam smiled and continued. "Finally, to Barcelona, to my teammates, to Nigeria, this is for you. For Africa, for every boy or girl kicking a ball in the street, wondering if the world will ever see them. I am proof that it can".
"This is not the end," he grinned. "I promise you, this is just the beginning. Legacy is not trophies, legacy is what you give back, and I promise to give back."
Applause roared, some rising to their feet.
Even Mbappé, tight-lipped, clapped firmly. Drogba’s eyes glistened. For him, for all of Africa, this was more than football.
After that, the ceremony wound down as awards passed and photos were taken. FC Barcelona won the award for the best club of the season.
Eventually, Sam posed with the golden sphere, Kayla at his side, Raphinha and Pedri both grinning wildly in joy.
Messi walked up to Sam and embraced him softly, whispering a "congratulations, you deserve it" in his ear, a memory that Sam won’t forget in a hurry. Ronaldo also shook his hand firmly, nodding.
Sam was so emotional that it was taking his all not to directly burst out crying.
And outside, it was an eruption on social media. The world tweeted, posted, and screamed as the media frenzy started.
*["Samuel Moses - youngest Ballon d’Or since Messi."]
*["Abraka to the world."]
*["History, pure history. Crazy!"]
Outside the Théâtre, crowds sang his name into the Parisian night. In Lagos, fireworks lit the sky. In Abraka, drums and trumpets filled the streets.
And in Sam’s heart, one truth crystallized.
The world had crowned him. Now, he had to prove it wasn’t a fleeting moment. He had to prove that it was destiny.