If You Were Xavi Simons...




This is based on a true story and a possible aftermath, which may or may not have happened.


Imagine, if you will, this situation. Here you are, an 18-year old boy who left Barcelona's academy, La Masia, for the green pastures of Paris Saint-Germain and to get an opportunity to play with one of the most famous Barcelona legends of all, the great Lionel Messi, as well as a made man of Paris, Kylian Mbappe, a World Cup winner and future star for Real Madrid. 


The opponent is OGC Nice. The venue: the Parc des Princes, a venue that has been a part of the team's history since 1970. With 10 minutes left in a Round of 16 match in the Coupe de France, in front of a small audience so much as to suggest you would be forgiven for thinking it was a friendly, and a chance to face storied rivals Olympique de Marseille, you are called up to enter the pitch to replace Colin Dagba, who is of the PSG Academy fold and lives and breathes the club he started in.


No score through 90 minutes. By competition rules, the match goes to a penalty shootout. The seventh round of spot kicks arrives. Dante, a Bayern Munich name of the past, delivers a panenka past Gianluigi Donnarumma, who denied Marcus Rashford, Jadon Sancho and Bukayo Saka to win a European championship last year for Italy. At long last, you are called to convert a spot kick to continue the arm-wrestle at Le Parc against a side bound for European competition, managed by Christophe Galtier, who has a history of impressive victories against Paris in the past.


But therein lies the rub: the goalkeeper for Nice is a Pole named Marcin Bulka, who is on loan from Paris Saint-Germain because of having too many goalkeepers available. He is not as adept with stopping shots. Surely, with all the hype, all the fanfare, one swing will be routine as usual, right?





You take the shot. Bulka saves and is surrounded by his Nice teammates in white. As you walk back to the squad in their dark jerseys and shots, you are consoled by Presnel Kimpembe, another FIFA World Cup winner. Your mind is shattered. You are reduced to tears. You feel like you want to be executed in front of all those you loved because you let them down. You regret leaving La Masia. All those tears were in vain. A massive part of you wants to die on this pitch, alone, helpless, like those who perished on the football pitch in the past.





Time passes. You wake up, you wonder to yourself, did that nightmare just happen? Did all that just happen? You sit on your bed, deep in thought, your eyes still red from the tears you shed after all you went through. You choose to pick up your cleats and your ball and return to the Camp des Loges to do something. At the back of your head, you know that you will be watching Paris and Real Madrid face each other from your television set. You do not expect to be called up. The rest of the players on international assignment will return with one goal in mind: save Paris Saint-Germain from being trophyless and maybe spare their manager the long-awaited sacking.


You place a ball on the penalty spot near a practice goal, and you look straight at it, and you concentrate for the longest period of time. In the distance, PSG's first team are doing warmups and drills, but you are by yourself, concentrating, staring straight at the goal and the ball and the ball and the goal. The trees in the background look on, awaiting your decision.


In another part of the playing surface. Lionel looks over, confused at what he is seeing, and then he remembers that once upon a time, he was in this situation as well. When he started out, he took his lumps. He missed penalties. He failed as well. But he was young, and he chose to motivate himself to do better and be better. So he nods and returns to his drills with the rest of the team.





As for you, you continue to stare at the goal and the ball placed on the spot. You remember in the back of your head all the moments great players missed penalties and how they rebounded to be the heroes they were, of the sport. The pictures of heartbreak. The scenes of redemption. The montage, placed over the goal and the ball on the spot.


You see these scenes and realize that you have to make a choice. You can choose to let that scene in the Parc des Princes define who you are for the rest of your life: a nobody, an overhyped, overrated Dutchman who no longer has love for the sport and life and years on is found in a situation he does not want to be: dead. Or you can choose to let that scene be the springboard for a comeback story that will take time to develop but can happen, maybe culminating in scoring a winning penalty for the Netherlands in the FIFA World Cup.





You may not be at this club much longer. Your contract ends in the summer and depending on whether or not your club replaces its manager and personnel, you could be finding a new team to play or return home to Barcelona, figuring that your Parisian adventure did not work out. Other clubs from other competitions will figure that you need some confidence in taking spot kicks and getting playing time in a new country, perhaps the USA and MLS, could be the solution.


All these intangibles, and understanding why each and every one of these dynamics happen, cause you to finally declare your final answer, which you will speak loudly with actions, and not just words.