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"What is going on over there, why is our little Messi arguing with that foreigner," a dark-haired teenager at the side of the street football court asked a nearby spectator.
The spectator, a wiry man wearing a Juventus scarf, leaned against the metal fence. "Not sure," he replied, his eyes glued to the scene. "That guy just showed up, said something to little Anto, now it looks like he and Leonardo are about to square off. You know how these kids are—any excuse for drama."
The teenager chuckled, crossing his arms. "Well, he'd better watch out. Our Messi's got a temper, especially when someone questions his skills."
On the court, Rakim found himself standing in front of the chubby kid who was doing his best to turn his XL kit into an XXL. The moment he called him a monkey a part of him felt like channelling his inner Tyson, but rationality took hold. For one he had much worse stuff from players on the field or even fans and two he grew up in white America.
Turns out that just because your family is rich Racism still remains prevalent and just takes on a different type of beast. Kids in school asking if they can say the N-word if it's in a song or trying to excuse it because of that. The worst of it is the innocently racist questions like, 'Have you watched Roots? Does it look like I was born in the last century?' You speak good English like I ain't lived here for most of my life, "I'm not a racist. I have several Black friends,' Bitch so do I and they swing on sight,"
Doing his best to ignore the passive-aggressive ideas that popped into his head Rakim did his best to retain his cool as the fat wannabe Messi went on a trade of English and Italian. "If you think you're so good, why don't you prove it? Let's see if you can even keep up with us." He suddenly stated with a confidant smile after going on a slew of Italian words that were spoken too fast for me to understand.
"You know what Teletubby Boy, you have finally said something smart. Let's play a quick game I've already lost enough of brain cells here." I responded before proceeding to take off the shades I had bought on the way and the black cap hiding my dreads. "Your Carlo mind if run with you guys for a rematch?"
"Y'yeah, I mean of course you can but ain't you Rakim the Dream aka Mr Showtime himself aka The Special One?" The bald man named Carlo responded with a stunned expression obviously recognizing who exactly was standing in front of him.
The moment his words fell a respectable teenager stated with a light smile, "Why is Carlo D$*k riding so hard?" His words immediately caused nearby people in the peanut gallery to make similar statements.
"I don't know but he finna choke if he doesn't stop soon," a second guy commented instantly setting off a tirade of comments as Gen Z logic took over.
"Maybe he is trying to tell us something," another guy commented lowering his voice, but it was still audible. "That he takes it from..."
"Shut up! This guy is Rakim Rex, He will be playing against Ronald at the Allianz Stadium tomorrow," Carlo quickly retorted, stopping the gossiping onlookers and earning Rakim a few second glances.
"Why You lying Carlo, I heard Rakim died in a plane crash yesterday, may he rest in peace," A stylishly dressed man stated before explaining what he had read in the morning news.
"Yuh, Carlo do your research if you want to lie next time," Leonardo commented from the side before he proceeded to walk to his side of the pitch with his teammates.
"Fake News!" Carlo exclaimed only to be met with more ridiculing gazes. "What You think you're that orange guy from America or something?"
Carlo could only sigh in disappointment as he proceeded to guide Rakim towards their side of the half. He had thought the guy looked familiar the whole time Anto and Leonardo were arguing but a part of him didn't want to believe it. That last part was what held him back especially since he had seen his clips of him destroying professional defenses. So random street ballers disrespecting someone who is considered a young phenom around the world didn't make sense to him.
"Hi, you can call me Mr Showtime, but my Mum calls me her baby, but I think Rakim is good enough," Rakim stated the moment they huddled together causing the air between the six players to grow silent.
"Hahaha Good one bro, Carlo where did you get this Joker?" A teenage boy who goes by the name of Jason wearing a PSG kit stated causing the others to burst out laughing.
"Well, Jason," Rakim said with a smirk, casually bouncing the ball between his feet, "I got my jokes from the same place I got my skills—straight from the source." With a swift flick of his ankle, he sent the ball spinning up into the air, catching it effortlessly on his head and balancing it on his forehead. The next moment he suddenly tilted his head forward locking eyes with Jason across from him. "But don't worry, I'll keep it light on you guys. Wouldn't want anyone leaving here crying."
The group erupted in a mix of laughter and mock protests, but Carlo cut through the noise. "Alright, alright! Enough talk. Rakim or not let's see if my boy here can actually back it up, Ben you mind sitting this one out?"
"No prob's, things were getting too hot anyway, Leo Pig looks like he wants to skewer us," The blond man in his 30s stated with a tired smile as he took some laboured breaths. One could easily tell he was only playing here for recreational purposes. "Thank you," Rakim told the man grateful for him giving up his spot.
With a quick nod, Rakim stepped onto the makeshift street court, taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere. The gritty texture of the concrete beneath his Samba Classic sneakers, the faint smell of sweat and asphalt in the air, and the sharp clang of the chain-link fence rattling as spectators jostled for better views—all of it was a far cry from the pristine grass of a professional stadium. But that didn't matter. Here, it was all about the love of the game and proving yourself, no matter who you were or where you came from.
Leonardo, already positioned with his team, smirked and clapped his hands. "Alright, Monkey Boy let's see what you got." Rakim grinned, rolling his neck to loosen up his green eyes now gleamed with a dangerous glint as he locked eyes with the boy. "Let's get the show on the road Leo Pig,"
The ball was placed at the centre, and since Carlo's team had lost the last round, they kicked off the match. Knocking the ball back towards Philippe who played in the back line with Tony. The defender didn't stop the ball but merely flicked it to his chest before juggling it as one of Leo's teammates charged at him.
Philippe didn't even bother taking him on as he knocked the ball over to Rakim with a volley. In part, he wanted to see what this guy could do after the little he had seen and another part of him believed what Carlo said about this guy being a pro baller. Rakim deftly received the ball with his heel flicking it up and seeing the elephant charge of Leo he watched the guy in a 2Pac shirt perform a deft sombrero.