He didn't have the number seven yet
But he was already wearing it in his soul
Number seventeen sat on his back
Lightweight
Almost temporary
The crowd still chanted Beckham's name
Shirts with the number seven were everywhere
Cristiano knew he wasn't the heir yet
Not officially
But deep down
He was already chasing that throne
In training
He outpaced wingers
Outjumped defenders
Outshined expectations
Teammates started noticing
Not just the flash
But the grit
The hunger
One day during a closed scrimmage
Cristiano scored four goals in twelve minutes
Two with his weak foot
One with a header
One with a spin that dropped the defender to the grass
Giggs stood on the sideline
Smiling slightly
"That boy's not normal"
He muttered to Scholes
The staff nodded quietly
But even with all that
Cristiano didn't celebrate too much
He knew something
Until he wore the number seven
For real
He was still a shadow
One afternoon he walked past a merchandise booth
Kids were buying jerseys
Some asked
"Will he be the next?"
The seller shrugged
"Too early to say"
Cristiano heard it
Didn't flinch
But that night
He trained again
He imagined the number seven glowing on his back
He imagined fans chanting his name like it was thunder
He imagined defenders trembling when they saw him sprinting forward
He wasn't ready yet
But the game didn't care about readiness
Only results
So he wrote another line in his notebook
"Seventeen for now
But seven in destiny"
He smiled as he closed the page
Because deep in his heart
The number was already his