Thirty-four steps down, deep into the heart of the cavernous belly of the stadium, then eight steps up, up and into the light…

Jamie Johnson walked out on to the pitch at the Nou Camp and looked up … up … and further up… The gigantic stands curved towards the sky on all sides, reaching so high it was almost impossible to see the top. No wonder the Barcelona players felt blessed to play for the club, Jamie thought to himself. They were pretty much being watched from the heavens.

This was his first chance to take in the full, wondrous grandeur of the stadium. He’d seen it on TV many times, but to be here, standing on the pitch, was completely different.

And now, after he and Godal had reached their unique agreement – albeit a highly risky one on both sides – Jamie could finally call himself a Barcelona player. This ground, this phenomenal piece of architecture, was his new footballing home.

“Jamie!” said one of the Barcelona press team, putting a club scarf around his neck. “The fans! They have come to see you! Why don’t you show them something special?”

And with that, from somewhere a specially branded Barça football was launched at Jamie.

The twenty thousand fans in the stadium erupted with noise. This was what they had come to see: their precious new signing kicking a ball.

Immediately, Jamie’s heart sang and his body smiled.

This was what he was here to do. There had been too much talk. Too much delay. Too many worries about knees and money. That wasn’t what was important. This was.

Jamie accepted the ball on to the side of his shin before flashing his foot around it to trap the ball between his calf and the back of his thigh.

Instantly the fans responded, leaping to their feet to chant Jamie’s name.

He smiled and back-heeled the ball all the way back over his head. He watched it loop on to his right foot and then gave it an almighty thump, rocketing a volley high into the air above him.

The camera flashes all captured the image of Jamie staring up into the sky, eye fixed firmly on the ball. Then, as the ball dropped, he arched his back, allowing his chest to cushion the ball high enough for it land on his forehead.

For an instant, he was back in his granddad Mike’s garden, Mike clapping, urging him on, telling him to have fun with the football – to “show it you love it”.

With the ball balancing on his head, Jamie turned to the cameras and, quickly tilting his chin up, let the ball drop on to his lips.

He kissed the Barça ball and, in that moment, with his joy at signing for his dream club clear for everyone to see, he began to win the hearts of his new fans.

Barcelona was already coming under Jamie Johnson’s spell.