Chapter 59: A signature for eternity
DING!
{NEW! Incoming Gmail message from Adidas...}
The email sat on his iPhone like a golden ticket.
[From: Adidas Global HQ]
[Subject: Lifetime Partnership Offer.]
Sam blinked three times to be sure it wasn’t a dream. And no, it wasn’t. The Ballon d’Or trophy glittering faintly from the corner of his apartment table confirmed that this was his new reality.
’Damn...!’ He was flabbergasted.
Sam was no stranger to lifetime contracts from major corporations. Global sports superstars like Michael Jordan, Lionel Messi, and Cristiano Ronaldo all had lifetime contracts.
To think that he would get his own at the age of just 21!
"I love my life!" He hollered into the night.
...
By morning, Sam’s agent dialed him, voice practically buzzing through the line with the endless enthusiasm that always followed big deals.
"Sam, this isn’t just a sponsorship," he said energetically. This is the crown jewel. A lifetime contract, endorsements, signature boots, and global campaigns".
"Adidas doesn’t just give these out. They gave one to Messi, to Beckham, to Derrick Rose, to Jordan, and now... you."
Sam rubbed his temples, pacing the living room. He knew what it meant, but he still asked for outside confirmation. "Lifetime? Like, forever?"
"Yes," his agent laughed. "As long as you live, as long as they sell football boots, your name will be stitched into their fabric. Samuel Moses isn’t just a player anymore, now, you’re a brand!"
When he eventually told Kayla, she dropped the frying pan she was holding.
"You’re joking!" she gasped, rushing over to snatch his phone.
Reading the email herself, her mouth hung open. "A lifetime deal? Samuel, do you know what this means?!"
Sam chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "It means I’ll never buy boots again?"
Kayla swatted his shoulder. "It means you’ve made it! You’re immortal now! You’re going to be like Messi and Ronaldo. People will wear your name on their feet for decades!"
Sam sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, smile spreading wider and wider. "My own boots... Samuel Moses boots. From Abraka dust to this."
He laughed suddenly, shaking his head. "I don’t even know how to process this, it’s just so much."
Two days later, a private jet whisked them to Herzogenaurach, Germany, Adidas’ global headquarters.
The campus was sprawling, futuristic glass buildings gleaming under the morning sun. Employees lined the walkway with banners that said:
["Welcome Samuel Moses."]
Some wore Barcelona shirts, others Nigeria jerseys, all chanting his name.
Sam and Kayla stepped out hand-in-hand. She looked every inch the superstar’s wife in a cream blazer dress, while he kept it sharp in a tailored navy suit. Cameras flashed as they walked the red carpet rolled out between the doors.
"Feels like a Champions League final," Sam whispered.
"Bigger," Kayla smirked. "This is forever."
The meeting room was a theatre of glass and gold.
There was a long polished table, screens flickering with highlights of Sam’s season- the AFCON trophy, the Champions League, the World Cup Golden Boot, and that Bernabéu hat-trick replaying on loop.
At the head of the table sat Adidas CEO Bjørn Gulden, flanked by executives in immaculate suits.
"Samuel," the CEO began, rising to shake his hand warmly. "It is our honor. You are the future, the present, and the legacy. We want you with us for life."
The words hit Sam harder than any whistle, any roar. For life... such simple words but with so many implications to his life.
An assistant carried in a velvet folder. She opened it to reveal the contract, the Adidas trefoil embossed in gold.
Sam stared at the number. His throat went dry. It wasn’t just money, it was astronomical. Hundreds of millions spread across a lifetime, royalties from every boot, every jersey, and every Adidas campaign.
Kayla’s eyes widened. It took all of her willpower not to mouth it out. ’Generational wealth’.
Sam exhaled, hands trembling slightly as he picked up the pen.
For a second, he saw Abraka, the dusty fields, barefoot games, his father’s voice warning against football. Then Enyimba, Fulham, Barcelona, and the Ballon d’Or. He smiled, and signed.
Flashbulbs erupted, followed by applause echoed as the CEO shook his hand again, this time firmer.
"Welcome to history, Samuel."
Immediately after, they led him to the unveiling stage. Cameras rolled live across the world as a giant banner dropped behind him, revealing the words.
["Samuel Moses x Adidas — Lifetime Partnership."]
Beside it, a glass case slid open, revealing a prototype of his first signature boots. Black and gold, sleek, with the initials SM10 stitched on the heel.
Sam picked them up, running his fingers over the leather.
He grinned. "These... these are mine?"
"Yours," the CEO nodded. "The first of many."
Sam held them up to the crowd. Employees cheered, fans screamed, and journalists snapped frantically. The moment went viral instantly, hashtags exploding across Twitter and Instagram.
#SM10
#AdidasLegacy
#FootballGod
Sam gave a speech.
He stepped up to the microphone, Kayla standing proudly beside him. His voice carried both disbelief and pride.
He smiled. "When I was a boy, I played football barefoot in Abraka. We didn’t have Adidas, heck, we didn’t even have proper balls".
"If someone told me then that one day I’d stand here, signing a lifetime deal with one of the biggest brands in the world, I would’ve laughed, but that’s life".
"And this is proof, proof that dreams are real, proof that you can start with nothing and end with everything".
"I don’t just want kids to wear these boots, I want them to believe in themselves when they do, to know that anything is possible. Thank you for believing in me. I promise to make this legacy worthy."
Applause roared across, as Kayla dabbed her eyes with a tissue. She knew Sam was always meant for great things from the beginning, but not even in her wildest dreams did she imagine this.
The flashing cameras immortalized the moment.
After the ceremony, as they returned to their hotel, Kayla leaned against him in the car. "You realize what just happened, right? You’ll never walk into a store again without seeing your name."
Sam laughed, eyes sparkling. "Then I’d better keep scoring, or no one will buy them."
She kissed his cheek. "Trust me, they will."
Sam stared out at the glowing German night, the contract heavy in his pocket, the prototype boots at his side.
This wasn’t just money. It wasn’t even just recognition, it was forever.
From barefoot boy to Ballon d’Or winner to global icon, he had signed his name into eternity.
And in his heart, he knew this was only the beginning.