Max the Soccer Player from Sabadell - A Children's Story

 

Max the Soccer Player from Sabadell

By Bill Conley
America’s Favorite Children’s Storyteller

Max Llobet Miró lived in Sabadell, a bustling town about thirty minutes from Barcelona. Though not by the sea, Sabadell was full of charm and energy. Its wide boulevards bustled with scooters zipping past cafés, shopkeepers greeting customers in Catalan and Spanish, and children laughing as they chased balls across the plazas. In the evenings, the air carried the smells of roasted chestnuts in winter and grilled meats in summer. It was the kind of town where everyone seemed to know one another—and where dreams began on playgrounds, in classrooms, and most of all, on the soccer pitch.

Max was only eight years old, but already his life was full of stories, songs, and games. His mamá, Susana, always reminded him that he was born on December 31, the very last day of the year. “You were our best surprise gift,” she would say. “And every New Year’s Eve, when fireworks sparkle in the sky, it feels like the whole world is celebrating you.”

Max usually smiled shyly when she said this. He was a wonderful boy—kind, polite, and well-behaved. His teachers at San Nicolás School praised him for his careful work and excellent notes. His classroom teacher, Señora Lali, often told him, “Max, your mind is sharp, and your heart is gentle.”

But Max had one small challenge: he was shy with people he didn’t know. When neighbors greeted him in the elevator, he lowered his eyes. At school, even when he knew the right answer, his hand often stayed down. Inside, he had so much to say. Outside, his voice was quiet as the wind slipped through Sabadell’s narrow streets.

There was one place, though, where his shyness melted away: the soccer field.

A Family Full of Love

Max’s life was filled with family. His Papá, Jordi, carried Catalan pride in every story he told. Walking with Max through Sabadell’s historic squares, he pointed out stone churches, old textile mills, and monuments. “This town has its own proud story,” he would say, “just like you.”

His mamá, Susana, filled their home with warmth. On Sundays, she cooked his favorite meals—rice with chicken or red meat grilled on the family barbecue. “Food gives strength, but love makes it taste better,” she often said with a wink.

Max also had four older siblings from his father’s first marriage: Jordi, Alex, Natalia, and Ivette. They were much older—already in their twenties and thirties—but they adored Max. They clapped the loudest at his games and teased him with nicknames like el pequeño crack"—the little star.

Best of all, those siblings had children of their own, making Max an uncle. His nephew Luca and nieces Alice and Juliet were younger than he, which made family gatherings extra fun. Max loved teaching them soccer tricks in the yard.

“Show me the Ronaldo chop!” Luca would beg.
“Another trick, Max!” Alice demanded.
Juliet usually just grabbed the ball, hugged it tight, and shouted, “I’m the goalie!” before tumbling into giggles.

Max always laughed and encouraged them, showing one trick at a time. In those moments, he wasn’t shy at all. He was the teacher, the leader, the big uncle.

Max the Student

At San Nicolás School, Max was known for his good behavior and strong grades. He enjoyed math, drawing, and reading stories about explorers and adventurers. Señora Lali often tapped his desk and said, “Excel·lent, Max! Very good work.”

Still, when it was time to read aloud, Max’s hand stayed down. He wanted to speak, but the words felt trapped. One day, Señora Lali knelt beside him and whispered, “Even a quiet voice can be strong. One day, you will find the courage to share yours.”

Max nodded, tucking her words away like a secret treasure he might use later.

Max the Athlete

The moment Max stepped onto the field, everything changed. At Club Natació Sabadell, wearing his number 22 jersey, he felt alive. His coach, Lasca, often tapped the number on his back before a game. “Dues ales, Max—two wings. You are a striker. Fly!”

And fly he did. Max darted between defenders, read the game like a chessboard, and finished with sharp, confident strikes.

Soccer wasn’t his only sport. He loved tennis and padel, where his speed helped him cover the court. He swam in the club’s pools, slicing through the water like a silver fish. In winter, he skied down snowy mountains, fearless and fast. And in chess, his patience and foresight often left opponents shaking their heads, surprised by his clever traps.

His teachers in those activities were not Señora Lali—they were after-school coaches and mentors—but each of them admired his focus and discipline.

“Max sees the whole board,” his chess teacher once said.
“Max moves like water,” his swimming coach remarked.
“Max’s balance is incredible,” his ski instructor noted.

Even in activities where he wasn’t the star, Max shone with effort, discipline, and kindness.

Max the Musician and Actor

Sports weren’t the only part of Max’s life. He also had gifts in music and theater. At San Nicolás, he sang in the choir, his voice blending softly at first, then more confidently as time went on. One unforgettable day, his choir performed at Palau de la Música in Barcelona.

The stained-glass skylight glowed overhead as Max stepped onstage. At first, his knees trembled, but when the music began, his voice rang clear and sweet. It soared through the hall and into the hearts of everyone listening. When the performance ended, Susana wiped away tears. “Bravo, Max,” she whispered. “You were magnificent.”

In school theater productions, Max usually chose smaller roles, but he spoke his lines clearly and with purpose. After one play, his director told him, “Your role may have been small, but your presence mattered.” Those words stayed with him.

The Shy Boy with Big Dreams

Despite all these talents, Max still felt shy. Compliments made him look down at his shoes. Meeting new people made him quiet.

But at home, dressed in one of his many soccer outfits, with a ball rolling at his feet through the living room, he was unstoppable. He practiced Ronaldo step-overs, backheels, and flicks until the ball felt like part of him.

His dream was clear: one day, he wanted to play like his heroes from FC Barcelona and Real Madrid.

The Tournament

One Monday evening, Coach Lasca called the team together. His eyes shone. “We have been invited to a youth tournament at Montjuïc in Barcelona. Teams from all over Catalonia will be there. Remember two words: “believe” and “belong.”

Max whispered the words to himself all week. Believe in the hours you’ve practiced. Belong with your teammates.

At the tournament, Max shone. In the opening match, he scored the first goal with a clever run behind the defense. His confidence grew with each touch. In the semifinal, he studied the defenders like a chess puzzle, spotted their weakness, and slipped into space to score the winning goal.

In the final, with the score tied, Max earned a free kick. He stepped back, breathed in and out, and struck the ball with perfect technique. It curled over the wall and dipped under the bar—just like Ronaldo. The net shook. The crowd erupted.

His teammates piled onto him in celebration. They won the championship 2–0.

When the announcer read the awards, Max froze as he heard his name:
“Best Striker—Max Llobet Miró, number 22, Club Natació Sabadell.”

Max walked forward shyly, but when he lifted the golden boot trophy, something inside him changed. He looked out at his family—Susana and Jordi, his older siblings, and little Luca, Alice, and Juliet bouncing with joy—and his shy smile grew wide and confident.

Beyond Soccer

The victory gave Max courage outside the field, too.

At school, when Señora Lali asked for volunteers to read, Max slowly raised his hand. His voice trembled, but he read the whole passage. The class clapped, and Max sat down glowing.

At choir rehearsal, he sang louder and steadier, his voice confident.
At home, when Luca and Alice begged for tricks, Max taught them with the patience of a coach.
At the chess club, when an older student challenged him, Max smiled, shook his hand, and won in twelve moves.

Max still felt shy sometimes—that was part of who he was—but he now understood that confidence wasn’t about being loud. It was about believing in yourself and showing the world your gifts.

A Superstar in Confidence

One evening, after dinner, Papá hugged him. “Max, today you scored goals. But every day, you show courage, kindness, and discipline. That is what makes you truly great.”

Mamá kissed his hair. “Mi campeón, my champion. I love your trophies, but I love your heart most of all.”

Max whispered the words he now lived by: “Believe and belong.”

That night, with the golden boot trophy shining on his desk beside his chess medal and choir program, Max drifted off to sleep—confident, joyful, and ready for all the dreams ahead.

He was no longer just Max the shy boy. He was Max the Soccer Player—a superstar not only in sports but also in courage, kindness, and the confidence that comes from believing in yourself.