Tévez raised both eyebrows and tilted his head to glance at Zachary. He regarded him for a few seconds with intense scrutiny before nodding and saying, "Nice to meet you, too, Zachary Bemba. I have heard many incredible things about you. Welcome to Turin." He took his hand for a very firm handshake.
"Thank you, Carlos," Zachary said, smiling. He was both delighted and relieved after the striker had accepted his gesture of goodwill. "Let's work well together as teammates in the future."
"Just a moment before you get ahead of yourself," Tévez said in very fluent English. "Let's get one thing straight. You're not my teammate or a teammate of anyone on the Juventus squad until you go through the traditional initiation ceremony for all new players. Got it?"
Zachary's eyes narrowed as a flicker of doubt arose within his mind. "There's an initiation ceremony! Didn't I go through it when the management unveiled me in front of the fans and the press six days ago?"
Tévez let out a soft chuckle on hearing that. "One thing you should understand is that the management is management and the team is the team. They are two different entities making up the club. Even after going through the initiation by management, you'll still have to go through the one for the team. Otherwise, you'll remain an outsider."
"I see," Zachary said, holding the Argentine's gaze. "Carlos! I also wish to clarify one fact with you before we speak about anything else. About the number ten shirt..."
"No, no, no," Tévez interrupted before Zachary could finish the sentence. "You don't need to explain. I have played professional football for more than a decade. I understand how the industry works. A person has to step aside when a talented player joins a team. That's the ruthless and competitive nature of football. And I won't hold any grudge against you for such an insignificant matter. That would be very immature of me."
"Thank you for your understanding," Zachary said, breathing another sigh of relief. "I'm really starting to feel that we can become good teammates."
"That's a possibility," Carlos concurred in a somehow vague manner. "But, don't forget that the number ten shirt is iconic among the Juventus fans, players, and coaching staff. So, remember to work hard and play your best football during your next few seasons at Juventus. Otherwise, many people in Turin will always be on your case for disgracing that glorious number."
"Thanks for the reminder," Zachary said. "I'll take it to heart. But Carlos! We better head to the training ground. We're almost running late for training."
Tévez eyed Zachary with a strange expression. "Didn't I clarify that you won't be teammates with anyone before your initiation? Just follow me. I'll take you to meet the rest of the squad and the coaches. They are currently in the room for technical meetings." Without waiting for Zachary to respond, he turned around and started walking away. His pace was quite fast, and within seconds, he was already stepping out of the dressing room.
"Wait!" Zachary said, chasing after the Argentine forward after a few seconds. "What about the training? Wasn't it supposed to commence at 9:00 AM?"
"Don't worry," Carlos said without turning back. "The training will start after the meeting."
"Really?" Zachary was skeptical since he'd gotten the message about the training session from Fabio, the one and only sporting director.
"I'm not trying to trick you," Carlos said, finally stopping in his tracks and turning to face Zachary. "I was already in the tactics room with the others. But Coach Allegri sent me to fetch you after he got word that you had arrived at the training center. Moreover, you have to understand that there's always a mandatory team meeting before every first training session of the week."
"Oh, okay." Zachary smiled awkwardly. "Then, let's go. Thanks for helping me out."
Carlos nodded and immediately turned around to resume his journey through the hallways of the training center. Zachary naturally matched his steps, and before long, they arrived before a closed door that was the entrance to the tactics room.
"We're here," Carlos announced and knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response, he pushed it ajar and motioned for Zachary to follow him inside with a hand gesture.
Zachary naturally followed after him and stepped into the room. The next moment, he was slightly intimidated as his eyes took in the many famous faces he had seen countless times on television during his previous life. With a single glance around the room, he spotted celebrated players like Gianluigi Buffon, Giorgio Chiellini, Leonardo Bonucci, Patrice Evra, Paul Pogba, Claudio Marchisio, Andrea Pirlo, Arturo Vidal, and Álvaro Morata, among others. They were all quietly seated at various tables arranged around the room. But what unnerved Zachary the most was that they had all turned to glance his way when he stepped through the doorway.
"Damn, this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't late," Zachary screamed inwardly. At that moment, he felt like he'd turned into a walking tourist attraction due to all the eyes on him. He inwardly vowed never to put himself in such an awkward situation again.
"Zachary! You're finally here!" Suddenly, a voice exclaimed, drawing his attention. He tilted his head and noticed that it was a balding middle-aged man with a prominent aquiline nose who had spoken. He was Maurizio Trombetta, the assistant coach, specifically in charge of the first team of Juventus.
"Welcome, welcome," the coach continued speaking in English while standing up from his seat to greet Zachary. "Please, feel at home as this is your club. And allow me to introduce you to the rest of the coaching staff and your new teammates..."
With Coach Trombetta taking the lead, the awkward silence in the room naturally dissolved, and the atmosphere turned harmonious. The other coaches and players stood up to greet Zachary, and in a few words, they welcomed him to the club in a friendly manner. It was as if they had forgotten the four goals he'd scored against them during the previous campaign of the Europa League. But, of course, there was always an exception to every case scenario. And that day was no different.
When Zachary finally greeted Gianluigi Buffon, an unexpected incident transpired. The famous goalkeeper's countenance turned stony, and he held on to Zachary's hand much longer than was necessary. Without caring for the atmosphere around him, he narrowed his eyes and said in strained English, "Zachary! Tell me honestly. Was it your sole intention to draw the last man foul from me during our Europa League match last season? Or did you genuinely wish to bypass me and score?"
"Eh!" Zachary was taken aback by the question. He hadn't expected an experienced keeper like Buffon to ask him about a minor issue from last season.
"Well?" Buffon pressed for an answer while still holding on to Zachary's hand. Since he was a keeper, his grip was quite powerful, and naturally, Zachary couldn't wriggle out of it.
Zachary smiled awkwardly, finding the whole situation a bit absurd. He turned to the rest of his new teammates, hoping they would resolve his plight peacefully. However, his heart couldn't help but sink into an abyss of worry, especially when he realized that all the previous cordial players in the room were staring at him with ice-cold expressions. They were no longer smiling but looked like they couldn't wait to beat him up.
"Ragazzi! Penso che sia abbastanza!"
Just then, the familiar voice of Coach Allegri reverberated across the otherwise silent room, causing Zachary to breathe a sigh of relief. On cue, as if all the players had gotten a signal, they started laughing and grinning as if they had just heard the funniest joke. In just seconds, their expressions turned cordial again as if they were the friendliest humans on Earth.
"Hahaha," Buffon chuckled, drawing Zachary into a hug. "I got you on that one. Did you think that I was about to beat you up?"
Zachary was, of course, at a loss of how to respond to the circumstances. He remained silent as he hugged his new captain.
After a moment, Buffon released Zachary and stepped back. "On behalf of the entire Juventus squad," he said with a smile, "And in my capacity as captain, I welcome you to Juventus. Let's work well together as teammates from now on." He extended his hand to Zachary.
Zachary smiled and took the hand. "Thanks a lot, captain, for giving me that unique welcome," he said. "I also hope that we work well together."
"Cough! Cough!" Suddenly, someone coughed, interrupting the harmonious atmosphere. It was Paul Pogba, who was standing a few meters away. "I think you guys are forgetting something," the Frenchman said with his trademark grin. "Isn't it customary for all new players to go through initiation before the captain welcomes them to the club?"
"Oh!" Buffon exclaimed. "There, I go with my rashness again. Zachary!" The goalie turned towards him with a smile. "I'll have to withdraw my welcoming remarks until you go through the ritual to initiate you into the squad."
"Initiation!?" Zachary was at a loss again. He was confused, especially since he hadn't followed most of Juventus' matters for long. So, he hardened his resolve and decided to inquire. "What's this initiation ritual that everyone is talking about?"
"Of course, you'll have to entertain your senior teammates by singing a song of your own choosing," Pogba chimed in before Buffon could reply. "All new players must go through the ritual before the commencement of training today."
"Really?" Zachary was again a bit skeptical. He glanced toward the coaches, who were quietly watching the proceedings at a table positioned at the front of the tactics room. "Is this really necessary?" He asked again.
Coach Maurizio Trombetta nodded and said, "This is an age-old tradition at Juventus. Every new player has to go through it to become part of the Old Lady family of Turin. There's no escaping the ritual, no matter how big a player you were before arriving at Juventus."
"This is crazy!" Zachary sighed.
"You don't have to worry," Pogba consoled with his signature wide grin. "Aside from you, we have four other new teammates going through the ritual. That should give you confidence and allow you to put up a wonderful performance."
"Is that so?" Zachary said. "And who are these four players?"
"Kingsley Coman, Morata, Patrice Evra, and Roberto Pereyra," Pogba replied, rubbing his hands together as if in anticipation. "You five should be able to give us the concert of the year today."
