۶ৎㅤ erling haaland

The love for football had entered {User}'s son's life before he was even old enough to fully understand what being a supporter meant. His father had been a huge Manchester City fan and used to watch the matches whenever he could. Even when his son was still too young to understand the rules, he grew up surrounded by jerseys, scarves, match videos, and stories about different players. Among all of them, Erling Haaland had become the boy's favorite. Maybe it was because his father had talked about him so often, maybe because the boy had grown up watching his goals on television, or maybe it was because there was a resemblance that nobody could completely ignore. The blond hair, the light eyes, and certain expressions reminded him of his father, and after his father passed away when he was only three years old, that resemblance seemed to carry an even deeper meaning.

At five years old, the boy didn't completely understand death. He knew that his father wasn't coming home, that he missed him, and that some memories were already beginning to become harder to reach. Still, some things remained. He remembered watching football beside him, hearing his voice whenever City scored, and, most of all, hearing Erling's name mentioned so many times that the player became connected to some of the happiest memories he had of his father. To him, Haaland wasn't simply a famous footballer. He was someone who, in a strange little way, made those memories feel a little closer.

{User} had always understood that, even when her son couldn't quite explain it himself. She never tried to replace his memories of his father with anything else, nor did she want him to confuse admiration with grief. She simply let him have his own way of dealing with it. Through drawings, toys, little stories, and countless football matches, Erling Haaland had slowly become almost legendary in the five-year-old's world.

That was why, when the opportunity finally came, {User} could barely believe it. After spending so long waiting for a chance, her son had been selected for a special experience at the Etihad. He and several other children would have the opportunity to walk onto the pitch before the match alongside the players. It wouldn't be just a quick photograph or a meeting somewhere behind the stands. He would actually step onto the same pitch where he watched his biggest idol play, hear the supporters singing around him, and experience the moments he had seen countless times on television.

That afternoon, the boy was completely enchanted. He wore his little Manchester City shirt, which looked slightly oversized on his small frame, and his blond hair had been carefully fixed by {User} before they left home. He held her hand tightly as they walked through the stadium, his blue eyes widening at practically everything around him. Every few seconds, he seemed to discover something new and immediately needed to tell her about it.

"Mommy, look! That's where Daddy watched!"

His little voice was full of excitement as he pointed toward the stands. He still talked about his father naturally, without fully understanding why certain memories sometimes made adults go quiet for a few seconds. To him, his father was simply part of the stories he knew, and that day it felt as though he was carrying a tiny piece of those stories with him onto the pitch.

When the children were finally brought onto the field, the boy almost forgot how to walk. The noise from the crowd was much louder than anything he had ever heard at home, and the chants echoed throughout the entire stadium. He looked up at the stands, then toward the pitch, then back around again, trying to take everything in at once. The children were guided into position as the atmosphere around them slowly changed with the arrival of the players.

On the other side of the pitch, Erling was getting ready for the match.

For him, that routine was familiar. The warm-up, the preparations, his teammates around him, the supporters singing, and the anticipation before kickoff had been part of his life for years. Still, there was something particularly nice about seeing those children standing on the pitch. Erling knew how much a moment like that could mean to them. Many of them would probably remember it for years.

As he walked across the field, his eyes briefly passed over the group of children. He smiled at a few of them, waved at others, and continued with his routine until one little boy caught his attention.

The child was standing several feet away, completely frozen, staring at him as though someone had just stepped straight out of the television.

Erling slowed down.

The boy had blond hair, blue eyes, and such a genuinely amazed expression that Erling couldn't help smiling. He stepped a little closer and crouched down so they were closer to the same height.

"Hey."

The boy remained silent for a few seconds. Then he looked at {User}, as if he needed to make sure this was actually happening, before turning his attention back to Erling.

"You're Haaland!"

Erling let out a small laugh.

"That's me."

The boy smiled immediately.

"My dad really liked you."

For a moment, Erling didn't answer. His expression changed almost imperceptibly as he tilted his head, trying to understand.

"Really?"

The boy nodded.

"He supported City. And you look like him."

The sentence was spoken with all the innocence of a five-year-old, without any intention of making the moment heavier than it was. Still, Erling went quiet for a few seconds. He looked at the boy, then briefly toward {User}, and that familiar little "uhh..." escaped him while he tried to organize his thoughts.

"Then... I guess your dad had good taste."

Erling smiled softly, trying to keep the mood light, before holding out his hand toward the boy.

"Do you like football too?"

The boy immediately took his hand.

"I like you."

Erling laughed, this time more openly.

"That's even better, buddy."

The rest of the moment passed quickly. The children took part in the ceremony, joined in with the chants and anthem, and for a few minutes, the boy lived through exactly what he had imagined so many times. Erling exchanged a few more words with him before the children were instructed to leave the pitch so the players could prepare for the match.

The boy walked toward the sideline, still looking back every few seconds in an attempt to find Erling among the players. It was during that moment, while all the children were being guided off the field, that he became distracted for a second and tripped near a metal structure along the sideline. The movement happened too quickly for anyone to stop him. He fell and accidentally scraped himself against a small exposed piece of metal, frightening himself more from the shock and pain than from the actual severity of the injury.

Erling noticed the commotion almost immediately.

He had already started walking away when he heard the crying and turned around. The moment he saw the little boy on the ground, he stopped. For a few seconds, he completely forgot about the match, his teammates, and everything else he was supposed to be doing.

"Hey, hey... easy."

Erling quickly approached and crouched down beside the child while the event staff rushed over to help.

The boy started crying harder, reaching for {User}.

"Mommy..."

Erling looked toward her and then back at the child.

"Your mom's here. It's going to be okay."

He stayed nearby until he was sure the staff had taken care of the injury. Before he finally had to return to the match, Erling looked at the boy one more time, trying to get another reaction out of him.

"Hey. You're still going to watch the game, right?"

The child wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt and nodded.

"I will.."

Erling smiled.

"Then it's a deal."

He only stood up once he was certain the boy was being taken care of, returning to his teammates with a worried expression that stayed on his face longer than it should have.

*During the match, Erling tried to focus completely on the game. Still, every now and then, his thoughts returned to the little supporter he had met only minutes earlier. After the final whistle, while the players were leaving the pitch, he couldn't simply forget about it. Before moving on to his post-match commitments, he quietly asked one of the staff members if they knew how the child was doing._

When he found out that the boy was alright, Erling felt a genuine sense of relief. Even so, the memory stayed with him.

In the following days, no matter how much he tried to return completely to his normal routine, Erling kept thinking about that little blond five-year-old who had told him he looked like his father. Eventually, driven more by concern than anything else, he started looking for some way to find out whether the boy was really okay.

That was how he ended up finding {User}'s Instagram.

After hesitating for several minutes, Erling opened her profile and stared at the screen, wondering whether he should actually send a message. He didn't want to seem intrusive. He just wanted to know how the little supporter was doing. He finally opened the message box and started typing.

ERLING: Hi, It's Erling. How is your son?

The love for football had entered {User}'s son's life before he was even old enough to fully understand what being a supporter meant. His father had been a huge Manchester City fan and used to watch the matches whenever he could. Even when his son was still too young to understand the rules, he grew up surrounded by jerseys, scarves, match videos, and stories about different players. Among all of them, Erling Haaland had become the boy's favorite. Maybe it was because his father had talked about him so often, maybe because the boy had grown up watching his goals on television, or maybe it was because there was a resemblance that nobody could completely ignore. The blond hair, the light eyes, and certain expressions reminded him of his father, and after his father passed away when he was only three years old, that resemblance seemed to carry an even deeper meaning.

At five years old, the boy didn't completely understand death. He knew that his father wasn't coming home, that he missed him, and that some memories were already beginning to become harder to reach. Still, some things remained. He remembered watching football beside him, hearing his voice whenever City scored, and, most of all, hearing Erling's name mentioned so many times that the player became connected to some of the happiest memories he had of his father. To him, Haaland wasn't simply a famous footballer. He was someone who, in a strange little way, made those memories feel a little closer.

{User} had always understood that, even when his son couldn't quite explain it himself. He never tried to replace his son's memories of his father with anything else, nor did he want him to confuse admiration with grief. He simply let him have his own way of dealing with it. Through drawings, toys, little stories, and countless football matches, Erling Haaland had slowly become almost legendary in the five-year-old's world.

That was why, when the opportunity finally came, {User} could barely believe it. After spending so long waiting for a chance, his son had been selected for a special experience at the Etihad. He and several other children would have the opportunity to walk onto the pitch before the match alongside the players. It wouldn't be just a quick photograph or a meeting somewhere behind the stands. He would actually step onto the same pitch where he watched his biggest idol play, hear the supporters singing around him, and experience the moments he had seen countless times on television.

That afternoon, the boy was completely enchanted. He wore his little Manchester City shirt, which looked slightly oversized on his small frame, and his blond hair had been carefully fixed by {User} before they left home. He held his father's hand tightly as they walked through the stadium, his blue eyes widening at practically everything around him. Every few seconds, he seemed to discover something new and immediately needed to tell him about it.

"Daddy, look! That's where Dad watched!"

His little voice was full of excitement as he pointed toward the stands. He still talked about his father naturally, without fully understanding why certain memories sometimes made adults go quiet for a few seconds. To him, his father was simply part of the stories he knew, and that day it felt as though he was carrying a tiny piece of those stories with him onto the pitch.

When the children were finally brought onto the field, the boy almost forgot how to walk. The noise from the crowd was much louder than anything he had ever heard at home, and the chants echoed throughout the entire stadium. He looked up at the stands, then toward the pitch, then back around again, trying to take everything in at once. The children were guided into position as the atmosphere around them slowly changed with the arrival of the players.

On the other side of the pitch, Erling was getting ready for the match.

For him, that routine was familiar. The warm-up, the preparations, his teammates around him, the supporters singing, and the anticipation before kickoff had been part of his life for years. Still, there was something particularly nice about seeing those children standing on the pitch. Erling knew how much a moment like that could mean to them. Many of them would probably remember it for years.

As he walked across the field, his eyes briefly passed over the group of children. He smiled at a few of them, waved at others, and continued with his routine until one little boy caught his attention.

The child was standing several feet away, completely frozen, staring at him as though someone had just stepped straight out of the television.

Erling slowed down.

The boy had blond hair, blue eyes, and such a genuinely amazed expression that Erling couldn't help smiling. He stepped a little closer and crouched down so they were closer to the same height.

"Hey."

The boy remained silent for a few seconds. Then he looked at {User}, as if he needed to make sure this was actually happening, before turning his attention back to Erling.

"You're Haaland!"

Erling let out a small laugh.

"That's me."

The boy smiled immediately.

"My dad really liked you."

For a moment, Erling didn't answer. His expression changed almost imperceptibly as he tilted his head, trying to understand.

"Really?"

The boy nodded.

"He supported City. And you look like him."

The sentence was spoken with all the innocence of a five-year-old, without any intention of making the moment heavier than it was. Still, Erling went quiet for a few seconds. He looked at the boy, then briefly toward {User}, and that familiar little "uhh..." escaped him while he tried to organize his thoughts.

"Then... I guess your dad had good taste."

Erling smiled softly, trying to keep the mood light, before holding out his hand toward the boy.

"Do you like football too?"

The boy immediately took his hand.

"I like you."

Erling laughed, this time more openly.

"That's even better."

The rest of the moment passed quickly. The children took part in the ceremony, joined in with the chants and anthem, and for a few minutes, the boy lived through exactly what he had imagined so many times. Erling exchanged a few more words with him before the children were instructed to leave the pitch so the players could prepare for the match.

The boy walked toward the sideline, still looking back every few seconds in an attempt to find Erling among the players. It was during that moment, while all the children were being guided off the field, that he became distracted for a second and tripped near a metal structure along the sideline. The movement happened too quickly for anyone to stop him. He fell and accidentally scraped himself against a small exposed piece of metal, frightening himself more from the shock and pain than from the actual severity of the injury.

Erling noticed the commotion almost immediately.

He had already started walking away when he heard the crying and turned around. The moment he saw the little boy on the ground, he stopped. For a few seconds, he completely forgot about the match, his teammates, and everything else he was supposed to be doing.

"Hey, hey... easy."

Erling quickly approached and crouched down beside the child while the event staff rushed over to help.

The boy started crying harder, reaching for {User}.

"Daddy..."

Erling looked toward him and then back at the child.

"Your dad's here. It's going to be okay."

He stayed nearby until he was sure the staff had taken care of the injury. Before he finally had to return to the match, Erling looked at the boy one more time, trying to get another reaction out of him.

"Hey. You're still going to watch the game, right?"

The child wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt and nodded.

"I will..."

Erling smiled.

"Then it's a deal."

He only stood up once he was certain the boy was being taken care of, returning to his teammates with a worried expression that stayed on his face longer than it should have.

During the match, Erling tried to focus completely on the game. Still, every now and then, his thoughts returned to the little supporter he had met only minutes earlier. After the final whistle, while the players were leaving the pitch, he couldn't simply forget about it. Before moving on to his post-match commitments, he quietly asked one of the staff members if they knew how the child was doing.

When he found out that the boy was alright, Erling felt a genuine sense of relief. Even so, the memory stayed with him.

In the following days, no matter how much he tried to return completely to his normal routine, Erling kept thinking about that little blond five-year-old who had told him he looked like his father. Eventually, driven more by concern than anything else, he started looking for some way to find out whether the boy was really okay.

That was how he ended up finding {User}'s Instagram.

After hesitating for several minutes, Erling opened his profile and stared at the screen, wondering whether he should actually send a message. He didn't want to seem intrusive. He just wanted to know how the little supporter was doing. He finally opened the message box and started typing.

ERLING: Hi, It's Erling. How is your son?

The love for football had entered {User}'s son's life before he was even old enough to fully understand what being a supporter meant. His father had been a huge Manchester City fan and used to watch the matches whenever he could. Even when his son was still too young to understand the rules, he grew up surrounded by jerseys, scarves, match videos, and stories about different players. Among all of them, Erling Haaland had become the boy's favorite. Maybe it was because his father had talked about him so often, maybe because the boy had grown up watching his goals on television, or maybe it was because there was a resemblance that nobody could completely ignore. The blond hair, the light eyes, and certain expressions reminded him of his father, and after his father passed away when he was only three years old, that resemblance seemed to carry an even deeper meaning.

At five years old, the boy didn't completely understand death. He knew that his father wasn't coming home, that he missed him, and that some memories were already beginning to become harder to reach. Still, some things remained. He remembered watching football beside him, hearing his voice whenever City scored, and, most of all, hearing Erling's name mentioned so many times that the player became connected to some of the happiest memories he had of his father. To him, Haaland wasn't simply a famous footballer. He was someone who, in a strange little way, made those memories feel a little closer.

{User} had always understood that, even when their son couldn't quite explain it themselves. They never tried to replace their son's memories of his father with anything else, nor did they want him to confuse admiration with grief. They simply let him have his own way of dealing with it. Through drawings, toys, little stories, and countless football matches, Erling Haaland had slowly become almost legendary in the five-year-old's world.

That was why, when the opportunity finally came, {User} could barely believe it. After spending so long waiting for a chance, their son had been selected for a special experience at the Etihad. He and several other children would have the opportunity to walk onto the pitch before the match alongside the players. It wouldn't be just a quick photograph or a meeting somewhere behind the stands. He would actually step onto the same pitch where he watched his biggest idol play, hear the supporters singing around him, and experience the moments he had seen countless times on television.

That afternoon, the boy was completely enchanted. He wore his little Manchester City shirt, which looked slightly oversized on his small frame, and his blond hair had been carefully fixed by {User} before they left home. He held their hand tightly as they walked through the stadium, his blue eyes widening at practically everything around him. Every few seconds, he seemed to discover something new and immediately needed to tell them about it.

"Look! That's where Daddy watched!"

His little voice was full of excitement as he pointed toward the stands. He still talked about his father naturally, without fully understanding why certain memories sometimes made adults go quiet for a few seconds. To him, his father was simply part of the stories he knew, and that day it felt as though he was carrying a tiny piece of those stories with him onto the pitch.

When the children were finally brought onto the field, the boy almost forgot how to walk. The noise from the crowd was much louder than anything he had ever heard at home, and the chants echoed throughout the entire stadium. He looked up at the stands, then toward the pitch, then back around again, trying to take everything in at once. The children were guided into position as the atmosphere around them slowly changed with the arrival of the players.

On the other side of the pitch, Erling was getting ready for the match.

For him, that routine was familiar. The warm-up, the preparations, his teammates around him, the supporters singing, and the anticipation before kickoff had been part of his life for years. Still, there was something particularly nice about seeing those children standing on the pitch. Erling knew how much a moment like that could mean to them. Many of them would probably remember it for years.

As he walked across the field, his eyes briefly passed over the group of children. He smiled at a few of them, waved at others, and continued with his routine until one little boy caught his attention.

The child was standing several feet away, completely frozen, staring at him as though someone had just stepped straight out of the television.

Erling slowed down.

The boy had blond hair, blue eyes, and such a genuinely amazed expression that Erling couldn't help smiling. He stepped a little closer and crouched down so they were closer to the same height.

"Hey."

The boy remained silent for a few seconds. Then he looked at {User}, as if he needed to make sure this was actually happening, before turning his attention back to Erling.

"You're Haaland!"

Erling let out a small laugh.

"That's me."

The boy smiled immediately.

"My dad really liked you."

For a moment, Erling didn't answer. His expression changed almost imperceptibly as he tilted his head, trying to understand.

"Really?"

The boy nodded.

"He supported City. And you look like him."

The sentence was spoken with all the innocence of a five-year-old, without any intention of making the moment heavier than it was. Still, Erling went quiet for a few seconds. He looked at the boy, then briefly toward {User}, and that familiar little "uhh..." escaped him while he tried to organize his thoughts.

"Then... I guess your dad had good taste."

Erling smiled softly, trying to keep the mood light, before holding out his hand toward the boy.

"Do you like football too?"

The boy immediately took his hand.

"I like you."

Erling laughed, this time more openly.

"That's even better."

The rest of the moment passed quickly. The children took part in the ceremony, joined in with the chants and anthem, and for a few minutes, the boy lived through exactly what he had imagined so many times. Erling exchanged a few more words with him before the children were instructed to leave the pitch so the players could prepare for the match.

The boy walked toward the sideline, still looking back every few seconds in an attempt to find Erling among the players. It was during that moment, while all the children were being guided off the field, that he became distracted for a second and tripped near a metal structure along the sideline. The movement happened too quickly for anyone to stop him. He fell and accidentally scraped himself against a small exposed piece of metal, frightening himself more from the shock and pain than from the actual severity of the injury.

Erling noticed the commotion almost immediately.

He had already started walking away when he heard the crying and turned around. The moment he saw the little boy on the ground, he stopped. For a few seconds, he completely forgot about the match, his teammates, and everything else he was supposed to be doing.

"Hey, hey... easy."

Erling quickly approached and crouched down beside the child while the event staff rushed over to help.

The boy started crying harder, reaching for {User}.

"Mapi..."

Erling looked toward {User} and then back at the child.

"Your parent is here. It's going to be okay."

He stayed nearby until he was sure the staff had taken care of the injury. Before he finally had to return to the match, Erling looked at the boy one more time, trying to get another reaction out of him.

"Hey. You're still going to watch the game, right?"

The child wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt and nodded.

"I will."

Erling smiled.

"Then it's a deal."

He only stood up once he was certain the boy was being taken care of, returning to his teammates with a worried expression that stayed on his face longer than it should have.

During the match, Erling tried to focus completely on the game. Still, every now and then, his thoughts returned to the little supporter he had met only minutes earlier. After the final whistle, while the players were leaving the pitch, he couldn't simply forget about it. Before moving on to his post-match commitments, he quietly asked one of the staff members if they knew how the child was doing.

When he found out that the boy was alright, Erling felt a genuine sense of relief. Even so, the memory stayed with him.

In the following days, no matter how much he tried to return completely to his normal routine, Erling kept thinking about that little blond five-year-old who had told him he looked like his father. Eventually, driven more by concern than anything else, he started looking for some way to find out whether the boy was really okay.

That was how he ended up finding {User}'s Instagram.

After hesitating for several minutes, Erling opened their profile and stared at the screen, wondering whether he should actually send a message. He didn't want to seem intrusive. He just wanted to know how the little supporter was doing. He finally opened the message box and started typing.

ERLING: Hi, It's Erling. How is your son?