Matt Oldfield - Luis Suarez: El Pistolero

6 June 2015. As Luis took a quick glance around the stadium, all he saw were the colours of Barcelona. It was still thirty minutes before kick-off but they were cheering as if the warm-up was the real thing. He stretched out his right leg, loosening the muscles and preparing his body for the biggest game of his life.

Xavi fired the ball towards him, catching him by surprise, and Luis turned to chase it as it rolled off the pitch. As he crossed the touchline, almost within touching distance of the Barcelona fans in the front row, all he heard was Surez! Surez! He grinned and gave the fans a quick wave. They were ready for this Champions League Final and so was he.

Hard times make you appreciate the good times that had been Luiss motto over the past year. After all the anger, the tears, the headlines and the four-month suspension, he had bounced back better than ever. There was nothing he could do about his mistakes in the past, except try to learn from them. He had shut out all the distractions and focused on only two things: football and family. Now, having already won the Spanish league title and the Spanish Cup, he was ninety minutes away from completing an amazing Treble.

Back in the dressing room, Dani Alves turned the music up loud and the players tried their best to relax. Luis walked over to the far side, where the Surez 9 shirt was hanging. He had worn that name and number plenty of times but it had never looked better than it did now. He looked up at the countdown timer high on the wall less than fifteen minutes to go. He put on the shirt, pulled up his socks and slotted in a tiny pair of shin pads. Their opponents, Juventus, would play a physical style, but Luis had never liked big, bulky shin pads. He could handle the kicks.

Dani, throw me the tape, he called.

Do I work for you now? Dani replied, laughing. Just because you score the goals, you think you run the place?

Luis had quickly built good friendships within the Barcelona squad. For the first time since leaving Uruguay, he was surrounded by teammates who spoke Spanish, and that had certainly helped him to settle in quickly. He still had to pinch himself to believe that he was scoring goals alongside a magician like Lionel Messi.

The referee knocked on the dressing-room door. It was time. Luis finished putting the tape round his wrist, jumped to his feet and joined in the quick high fives. As they headed for the tunnel, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Xavi waiting with some final words of advice. Stay calm out there. They know all about your temper and theyll be trying to wind you up. Play your game and ignore them. We need you.

Luis nodded. Many of the things he regretted most in his football career were related to reckless moments on the pitch. He just needed to win every game, and sometimes he went too far. Dont worry. I wont let you guys down, he added with a serious face. Then a grin broke out. After the game, itll just be my goals that people are talking about.

For most of his teammates, this was yet another Champions League Final. But it was Luiss first and he was shaking with a combination of nerves and excitement. The atmosphere was incredible the anthem, the fans, the perfect pitch. It was like no other game he had ever played.

As he passed the ball around in a little triangle with Messi and Neymar, he had no doubts about the result of the game. With all their star players, how could they not score three or four goals? He placed the ball in the centre circle. He would be getting the first touch of the final! When the whistle blew for kick-off, Luis felt like he could run all day.

Barcelona took an early lead and Juventus equalised in the second half, but Luis struggled to find his best form. Was it just the big occasion that was getting to him? He worked hard but nothing was falling for him. With twenty-five minutes to go, he even feared that he might be substituted. Clapping his hands, he urged his teammates to do more, saying, Leo, lets go. Lets make something happen.

One of Luiss biggest strengths was that he never gave up and always believed that a chance would come his way. From his earliest years, he just knew where to be at the right moment to score goals. Theres still time, he told himself. Things can change in a second.

Then it happened. Messi dribbled past three Juventus defenders, and Luis saw his teammate preparing to take a shot. His instincts took over. He wasnt going to watch the shot. As soon as Messi pulled his leg back to shoot, Luis was racing towards the goal, looking for a rebound. Juventus goalkeeper Gianluigi Buffon made the save but the ball bounced loose. None of the defenders had a chance. Luis was too quick. Before they could move, he had pounced on the ball and fired a shot into the top corner.

Suddenly, as the emotions took over, everything was a blur. He jumped over the advertising boards onto the athletics track that surrounded the pitch. Lionel, Neymar, Dani and the rest of his teammates joined him, climbing on his back and burying him in hugs. He had saved the day. That was such a classic Surez goal, Dani yelled. You shoot, you score thats why youre El Pistolero!

As he jogged back to the halfway line, Luis couldnt stop smiling. He loved scoring in big finals. From the first time he kicked a ball, he had always wanted to be the goalscorer and the hero. While the game was stopped for a substitution, he allowed his mind to wander, just for a minute, back to his beloved Uruguay, where it all began.