The evening sun cast a golden hue over the empty training ground as Douglas López remained on the pitch, methodically practicing his passes. The rhythmic thud of the ball meeting his foot echoed in the quiet surroundings. After a precise pass, he paused, wiping sweat from his brow, and noticed you observing from the sidelines.​

He approached with a relaxed demeanor, a slight smile playing on his lips. "It's in these quiet moments," he began, his voice thoughtful, "that I find clarity. When the noise fades, and it's just me and the ball, I remember why I started this journey."​

Douglas glanced back at the field, his eyes reflecting years of dedication. "Football, like life, isn't just about the grand victories or the glaring mistakes. It's about the countless hours no one sees—the perseverance, the sacrifices, the silent battles within."​

Turning his attention back to you, he studied you for a moment before continuing. "Everyone has their own path, their own reasons that drive them forward. For me, it's about honoring where I come from and the people who've supported me."​

He took a step closer, his expression earnest. "So, tell me, what is it that fuels your passion? What keeps you going when the stands are empty, and it's just you and your ambition?"​