Days went by in relentless training as Nico pushed himself to the limit, preparing for the season ahead. He had quickly adapted to Roma's system, impressing everyone with his skill, vision, and work ethic.
August 21, 2015. The night before his Serie A debut against Hellas Verona.
Nico lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind running through tactics, movements, and the anticipation of stepping onto the pitch in Italy's top flight. Just as he was about to close his eyes, his phone buzzed.
Aitana.
A small smile crept onto his lips as he picked up the call.
"Calling me this late? Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep?" he teased.
Aitana scoffed. "Says the guy who's about to make his Serie A debut tomorrow. Nervous?"
"Nah," he said casually, then after a pause, he added, "Maybe just a little."
She chuckled. "You'll be fine, Nico. You always are."
"Yeah, but it's different now. New league, new team. It's not La Liga or Espanyol anymore."
"I know," she said softly. "But it's still you. And I know exactly what you're going to do—play like you always do. Like you belong."
Nico exhaled, closing his eyes. "You make it sound so easy."
"Because for you, it is," she whispered. "I just wish I could be there to watch."
He smiled. "You will. Maybe not in the stadium, but I know you'll be watching."
"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for anything."
They stayed on the line for a moment, just listening to each other breathe. Then Aitana spoke again, her voice softer this time.
"Good luck, Nico."
"Thanks, Aitana."
"Love you."
"Love you too," he murmured before cutting the call.
With a deep breath, he placed his phone on the nightstand and stared at the ceiling again. Tomorrow, a new chapter began.
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22 August 2015 Hellas Verona vs AS Roma( Serie A – Matchday 1)
Stadio Marc'Antonio Bentegodi, Verona
The 22nd of August, 2015. A sweltering late-summer evening in Verona. The Stadio Marc'Antonio Bentegodi stood tall against the golden hues of the setting sun, its concrete walls vibrating with the chants of the Hellas Verona faithful.
As the AS Roma team bus weaved through the narrow streets leading to the stadium, a sea of yellow and blue-clad supporters lined the roads, waving flags and hurling jeers. The air smelled of grilled sausages and flares, a chaotic yet intoxicating mix of hostility and passion. Police officers on motorcycles flanked the vehicle, guiding it through the charged atmosphere.
Inside the bus, the Roma players sat in silence, earphones in, minds focused. Nico Cruyff, sitting by the window, watched the Verona fans pounding on the glass, their faces twisted in anticipation. He smirked. He had seen this before—different country, same energy. He lived for this.
As the bus pulled into the underground entrance, the noise outside grew muffled, but the intensity never faded. Nico took a deep breath as he stepped out, the fluorescent lights of the tunnel casting long shadows on the concrete. Tonight was his Serie A debut.
A new league. A new challenge. The next step in his journey.
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Roma Locker Room
The air inside the AS Roma locker room was thick with focus, the only sounds being the rhythmic tapping of boots against the floor and the occasional crackle of tape being wrapped around wrists. The smell of muscle rub and freshly washed jerseys lingered in the space.
Standing in the center of the room, Rudi Garcia surveyed his squad, his voice calm but firm as he addressed them.
"Listen up, boys. First game of the season, away from home. Verona will come at us hard, they always do in their stadium. We need to control the tempo, keep possession, and break them down with patience."
He turned to Miralem Pjanić and Daniele De Rossi, his midfield generals.
"Keep the ball moving. If they press high, don't panic—use the wings and drag them out of shape."
Then, to Edin Džeko, the towering striker making his Serie A debut alongside Nico.
"Edin, I want you to pin their center-backs, hold up play, and bring the midfield into the attack. Don't force it—play smart."
Finally, Garcia's gaze landed on Nico Cruyff. The youngest player in the squad, about to step onto an Italian pitch for the first time in an official match.
"Nico, today is your debut in Serie A. You've already shown what you can do in Spain. I don't care that you're only 15—I wouldn't put you here if I didn't believe in you. Play your game, find the spaces, and make them chase shadows. And Nico... don't hesitate to pull the trigger if you see the chance."
A murmur of encouragement spread through the locker room. Francesco Totti, the club legend, patted Nico on the back as the team huddled together.
Garcia clapped his hands.
"Now let's go out there and show them who we are. Forza Roma!"
With that, the players grabbed their jerseys, laced up their boots, and headed towards the tunnel. The Serie A season was about to begin.
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The tunnel buzzed with anticipation as AS Roma's players filtered out onto the pitch, stepping into the electric atmosphere of the Bentegodi. The Verona faithful roared, their blue and yellow scarves raised high, while the traveling Roma fans chanted "Forza Roma!", their voices echoing through the stadium.
The commentators took their cue as the lineup graphic appeared on screen.
Peter Drury (commentary):
"A new Serie A season, a fresh set of dreams, and for one young man, a brand-new chapter. AS Roma kick off their campaign against Hellas Verona, and all eyes are on their latest sensation—15-year-old Nico Cruyff, making his league debut tonight."
Stewart Robson (co-commentary):
"A teenager with a reputation beyond his years, Peter. Barcelona's Crown Jewel, sent on loan to Espanyol, where he was forced to play on the wing but still delivered 21 matches, 25 goals, 23 assists—a staggering return. But tonight, at Roma, he's back where he belongs: in the heart of midfield, pulling the strings as an attacking playmaker."
The camera cut to Nico, standing in the tunnel, eyes locked ahead. The young maestro adjusted his captain's armband from his U-21 days—a silent reminder of where he came from. He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of a new league, a new challenge.
Peter Drury:
"And here's how Rudi Garcia sets up his Roma side in a dynamic 4-2-3-1 formation."
AS ROMA STARTING XI (4-2-3-1):
Goalkeeper: Wojciech Szczęsny
Defenders: Alessandro Florenzi, Kostas Manolas, Mapou Yanga-Mbiwa, Lucas Digne
Midfielders: Daniele De Rossi (C), Miralem Pjanić
Attacking Midfielders: Mohamed Salah, Nico Cruyff, Radja Nainggolan
Striker: Edin Džeko
Stewart Robson:
"That midfield is pure artistry. Pjanić and De Rossi will control the tempo, while Nico sits ahead of them, tasked with unlocking defenses, feeding Salah and Nainggolan on the wings, and linking up with Džeko. This setup gives him the freedom to be at his best—creating, orchestrating, and scoring."
Peter Drury:
"And this is how Hellas Verona line up."
HELLAS VERONA STARTING XI (4-4-2):
Goalkeeper: Rafael
Defenders: Eros Pisano, Vangelis Moras, Rafael Márquez, Samuel Souprayen
Midfielders: Emil Hallfreðsson, Artur Ioniță, Leandro Greco, Jacopo Sala
Forwards: Luca Toni, Juanito Gómez
Peter Drury:
"A team built on experience, with Luca Toni still leading the line at 38 years old. They'll aim to stay compact and use his aerial presence to disrupt Roma's defense."
As the captains shook hands at midfield and the coin toss was decided, Nico stood in the center circle, rolling his shoulders, his gaze locked onto the ball at his feet.
The referee blew the whistle.
The 2015-16 Serie A season had begun.
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The opening whistle had barely faded into the evening air when Roma seized control of the match. There was no hesitation, no tentative probing—just immediate, relentless pressure. Hellas Verona, clad in their traditional yellow and blue, found themselves on the back foot, struggling to contain the onslaught.
At the heart of Roma's dominance was Nico Cruyff. The teenager, making his Serie A debut, played with a maturity that belied his years. He orchestrated the midfield with the poise of a seasoned maestro, his every touch and pass exuding confidence. His vision was impeccable, consistently finding pockets of space and exploiting them with precision.
In the fifth minute, Nico received the ball in the center circle. As he turned, Vangelis Moras, Verona's experienced center-back, advanced to close him down. With a subtle feint and a swift change of direction, Nico left Moras trailing, creating a corridor of opportunity. Spotting Edin Džeko making a diagonal run between the defenders, Nico threaded a perfectly weighted pass into his path. Džeko controlled the ball seamlessly and unleashed a shot aimed at the bottom corner. Rafael, Verona's goalkeeper, reacted instinctively, diving low to his right to parry the ball away.
Peter Drury (on commentary):
"Oh, that is sublime from young Nico Cruyff! He danced past Moras as if he weren't there and delivered a pass of pure silk to Džeko. Denied only by the sharp reflexes of Rafael!"
Roma's intent was unmistakable. They pressed high, regained possession swiftly, and dictated the tempo. Verona's midfield struggled to cope with the fluidity and movement of their opponents.
In the 12th minute, Nico found himself in space just outside the penalty area. With a deft touch, he maneuvered the ball onto his right foot and unleashed a curling effort destined for the top corner. The crowd rose in anticipation, but Rafael, showcasing his agility, leaped acrobatically to tip the ball onto the crossbar. The woodwork shuddered, and Verona breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Stewart Robson:
"Nico Cruyff is running the show here. That strike had finesse written all over it. Rafael's fingertips are the only reason Verona isn't behind. The youngster is making a statement tonight."
The 18th minute saw another golden opportunity for Roma. Nico, dropping deeper to collect the ball, initiated a swift one-two with Mohamed Salah down the right flank. Salah's blistering pace took him past his marker, and he delivered a low cross into the six-yard box. Miralem Pjanić, arriving unmarked, seemed certain to score. Yet, in a moment that defied belief, he misjudged his connection, and the ball trickled wide of the post.
Peter Drury:
"How has that not gone in? Pjanić, with the goal at his mercy, has squandered a gilt-edged chance. Roma's artistry deserved a finish, but the scoreline remains unchanged."
Stewart Robson:
"Roma's dominance is clear, but they must capitalize on these opportunities. Nico Cruyff is orchestrating every move, but his teammates need to find their finishing touch. Verona are on the ropes; it's up to Roma to deliver the knockout blow."
Nico, undeterred, continued to rally his team, urging them forward with every gesture. His leadership on the pitch was evident, and while the breakthrough hadn't yet come, his influence was unmistakable. The young maestro was painting a masterpiece; all that was missing was the final flourish.
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Roma's relentless attacking waves had kept Verona pinned back, but the hosts were hanging on, absorbing the pressure and looking for any chance to counter. Yet in the 23rd minute, a Verona attack was swiftly cut off.
Kostas Manolas, sharp as ever, lunged in with a perfectly timed tackle near the edge of Roma's box, dispossessing Giampaolo Pazzini with precision. Before Verona could react, Roma's transition was already in motion.
With the ball rolling free, Daniele De Rossi stepped in, taking one touch to steady himself before firing a crisp pass forward. Nico Cruyff was already on the move. He received the ball near the center circle and, with a deft flick, spun away from Emil Hallfreðsson, leaving the Icelandic midfielder lunging at thin air. A second Verona player, Leandro Greco, rushed in to halt him, but Nico, with the elegance of a matador, shifted the ball with a subtle elastico, gliding past him effortlessly.
Now, 37 meters from goal, the pitch opened up before him. The noise of the crowd dulled into the background; time itself seemed to pause. His eyes flickered to Rafael in Verona's goal, reading his position, his stance. Then, a final glance at the ball. The Roma faithful, sensing what was coming, began to rise in unison.
Nico moved his leg back and struck.
The ball exploded off his foot with violent precision, spinning and curling with an unnatural trajectory. Rafael, eyes wide, leaped, his fingertips stretching towards the top right corner. But it was futile.
The net rippled. Goal.
Peter Drury (on commentary):
"Oh, my word! Nico Cruyff, take a bow! That is an absolute masterpiece! A strike of pure genius on his Serie A debut, and he's just rewritten the history books!"
Stewart Robson:
"15 years old, and he's doing this? That was breathtaking! The power, the swerve, the confidence—this kid is something special. Rafael had no chance!"
The Roma bench erupted. The Stadio Marcantonio Bentegodi, filled with traveling Roma supporters, roared as one. And in the midst of the chaos, Nico remained composed. He sprinted towards the Roma fans, then slowed as he reached them. With an air of royalty, he knelt down—his signature celebration, the pose of a prince claiming his throne.
At just 15 years old, Nico Cruyff had just become the youngest goalscorer in Serie A history. And the world was beginning to understand—this was just the beginning.
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