Footbal: Arsenal - Chapter 70: Raiola Puts Everything on the Line, and Mendes Steps Aside (Patreon)

“What about you, Fat Raiola?” Kieran asked. “Let's get straight to the point. You came here because you want to represent me, right? So why should I choose you?”

He spoke with a smile, but the look in his eyes was entirely serious.

Mendes heard the weight Kieran placed on the question and understood that his own chances were probably gone. Still, he wasn't ready to give up completely. He decided to stay and listen.

Raiola answered in a solemn voice.

“Kieran, knowing your personality, I don't think you want to hear a grand speech full of empty promises. I don't enjoy making those speeches either. What I can give you is a commitment, a guarantee. If you join me, my entire team and I will organize our work around you.”

“I don't have many truly major clients at present, and even fewer on long-term representation contracts. Most footballers come to an agent looking for a huge transfer fee and a bigger salary. I know that's not what matters most to you.”

Raiola glanced at Mendes, who was listening closely, and chose not to elaborate on that point.

“If we agree to work together, I won't sign another player for the next five years.”

“Kieran, I'm even willing to put that clause in our contract.”

Everything or nothing. Raiola had made his commitment clear.

His promise was almost reckless. If he signed Kieran, he would throw everything he had into helping the youngster reach the absolute peak of his career as quickly as possible.

That would require the agreement of his whole team. For at least five years, the agency would concentrate on developing Kieran's career and commercial opportunities above all else.

It meant turning away the chance to expand in several directions at once, with income coming from many different footballers.

A small part of the team's earnings would still come from existing clients. Most of its future revenue would depend on what it could accomplish for Kieran alone.

Raiola might even have to reach new understandings with players he already represented.

For an agent who was already enjoying enormous success, it was an extraordinary offer.

Mendes knew the moment he heard it that he was out of the running.

He simply couldn't make a commitment like that.

And from Kieran's expression, he could tell the boy was far more impressed by the promise than by the business connections Mendes had offered.

There was nothing he could do. Raiola could pledge his future so freely, but Mendes could never sacrifice Ronaldo's interests for Kieran's sake.

Nor could he give up signing other players for years to come. He had an entire company to support.

He decided to make a graceful exit.

Before Kieran could answer Raiola, Mendes stood, smoothed his suit, and offered his hand.

“Kieran, I've thought about this carefully. If I'm being fair about which agent would be better for your future, I think I should withdraw.”

“I admire you sincerely, but I have to consider what's best for you. So perhaps it's time to say goodbye for now.”

Kieran rose as well. Seeing that Mendes was speaking honestly, he had no intention of pretending to talk him out of it.

He smiled and shook the man's hand.

“Goodbye, Mendes. And thank you for coming all this way to meet me. We might not be signing a contract together, but I'd like to think we could still become friends.”

“We'll have chances to eat together, too. I doubt Cristiano or Coach Mourinho would object if I showed up and cadged a free meal, would they?”

Mendes smiled and nodded. For the first time since arriving, he looked genuinely relaxed. Perhaps knowing the competition was over had finally relieved him of the pressure to impress.

“I think we can call ourselves friends already. As for a free meal, have as many as you like! Chris and José won't mind. They both think very highly of you.”

He paused. “But, Kieran, there's something I should say.”

Mendes glanced sideways at Raiola. Before leaving, he couldn't resist making life a little harder for a rival he'd never particularly liked.

“I know Mino well. Perhaps he really can go five years without signing another footballer.”

“But how can you be sure he won't divert your business opportunities to players he's known longer? People naturally favor those they're closest to.”

“And what's to stop other members of his team from signing new clients? Find a loophole in the wording of the contract, and the agency could carry on earning from new players as usual.”

Raiola's expression tightened. He looked as though he badly wanted to hit someone.

Then Mendes changed tack.

“Still, I have to admit that Mino possesses a strength I don't.”

Raiola's suspicions only deepened. Mendes complimenting him? Not a chance this was going anywhere good.

“He's exceptionally good at arranging transfers, often securing astonishing prices for his players. Supporters, clubs, managers, none of them seem able to stop him.”

“He knows how to stir up the media, too. His clients certainly never lack attention. It might not always be positive attention, but publicity is publicity, isn't it?”

“That's an ability I've never quite been able to match.”

Mendes shook his head, almost as if he regretted lacking that particular talent.

Raiola could have sworn he saw mockery in the man's eyes.

He's slandering me! That's a blatant smear! I knew he wasn't about to say anything nice!

He wanted to argue, but where could he even begin? Mendes hadn't actually lied. He'd simply selected every detail that made Raiola sound bad.

Kieran watched their exchange with amusement and waved a hand at Mendes.

“Thanks, Mendes. I think I understand Fat Raiola's strengths now. He really does look after his players and think about what's best for them. I'll be giving him even more serious consideration.”

Raiola glanced at Kieran. His stomach, which he'd been holding rigid with tension, relaxed at last. He let out a deep breath, genuinely moved.

He was a man ruled as much by feeling as calculation, and Kieran's instinct to stand up for him made him even more determined to secure the youngster's signature.

Mendes hadn't expected Kieran to defend his rival quite so openly.

But that was exactly what he'd done. Mendes no longer needed to guess much about the outcome. Raiola would probably be Kieran's agent before long.

He certainly wasn't going to congratulate him.

As far as Mendes was concerned, Kieran had just about every admirable quality imaginable. His judgment of agents, however, might leave something to be desired.

“Well, Kieran, until we meet again. Mino, goodbye.”

“See you, Mendes,” Kieran replied, waving.

Raiola waved too. “It's crowded out there, Mendes. Best get moving. Bye!”

And preferably don't come back.

Once Mendes had disappeared through the doorway, Kieran and Raiola sank back into their seats.

Their eyes met. For no particular reason, they both burst into laughter.

Kieran couldn't have explained why he felt so happy, but he did.

Raiola was happy too. Mendes was finally gone. Another minute of that smug face and those poisonous little remarks, and he might actually have punched the man.