The day that followed was a living nightmare.
Every Argentine news outlet tore into Mateo with savage glee:
"Arrogant teenager ruins team unity."
"German fabrication exposed!"
"Mateo González: a shame for the Albiceleste."
No one cared about the truth.No one wanted to listen.
The image of Mateo pushing Nico was played on every loop,the actual cause conveniently edited out.
But not everyone abandoned him.
In Germany, his family rallied around him.
His mother called every day, her voice firm:
"Hold your head high, hijo. We know who you are."
Klara sent dozens of messages, pictures, jokes — anything to keep his spirit alive.
Even his old friends from Bayern's U-17 — Lukas, Sebastian, others — sent videos of themselves in training, shouting encouragement:
"You're not alone, hermano! Bayern is waiting for you!"
Yet, it was not enough to drown out the hatred around him.
Everywhere he walked inside the training camp, he felt the glares.The whispered insults.The isolation.
Coach Cárdenas didn't even pretend anymore.
Mateo was a ghost — ignored completely.
It was then that the German journalist, Herr Fischer — an old friend of Klara's father — approached.
He found Mateo alone after a training session, sitting on a bench under a grey sky.
"Mateo," the man said gently, "may I tell your story?"
Mateo hesitated.
He knew the risks.
But he also knew he couldn't let lies define him.
He nodded.
The next day, the article hit international news:
"Mateo González: The Lone Fighter in a Broken System."
It told the story of the airport delay.Of the orchestrated hostility.Of the betrayal from his own teammates.
It didn't attack Argentina.
It simply told the truth.
Mateo's truth.
But instead of justice — the blowback was immediate and brutal.
The Argentine media howled in rage:
"Mateo betrays his country to the European press!"
"Instead of fighting, he cries to foreigners!"
"Undisciplined and unpatriotic — OUT!"
Coach Cárdenas wasted no time.
He called Mateo into his office that afternoon.
Cold.
Formal.
No emotion.
"You've embarrassed the team," Cárdenas said simply."You're expelled from the squad."
No hearing.No chance to explain.
Just a cold verdict.
And in the coach's smirk, Mateo could see it:
They had been waiting for a reason.Now, they had it.
Mateo packed his bags in silence.
No teammates came to say goodbye.
No handshakes.No respect.
He boarded a private transport arranged by his family, his head bowed.
As the plane lifted off from Argentine soil,Mateo stared out the window,fighting the tears burning behind his eyes.
Tears not of defeat.
But of betrayal.
Of rage.
Of an oath forged in pain:
This wasn't the end.