Some guys hated going out to the schools and the sports carnivals and giving back. I guess they’d forgotten what it was like being a kid when your hero took the time to say hi, pose for a photo, or sign an autograph. The day I’d met David Beckham was still, to this day, the greatest day of my life. And I wasn’t a kid. I’d been eighteen and on the verge of making it onto the Australian international side. He’d come out to Australia to play an exhibition match, and we’d been lucky enough to snag seats. But more than that, our coach at the time had organised for us to be in the change rooms after the game. Sure, we were kept behind a rope and not allowed to approach, but just being that close had been enough for me. Seeing the way his team interacted with each other and conducted themselves as reporters lined up with the same inane questions for more than an hour was definitely something that I carried with me. Where I wanted to roll my eyes and tell them to think of something new, Beckham just kept the smile pasted in place and answered every single one. For me, it was a new way of looking at things. In that moment, he showed me what it took to go from amateur to professional.
Just when I’d thought it couldn’t get any better, the interviews had ended, and he’d walked straight over to where I was standing and said hi. I almost pissed myself. David Beckham,TheDavid Beckham, was standing in front of me saying hello. I remembered stuttering and embarrassing the fuck out of myself, but he didn’t seem to care. When he called over Robbie Keane, I was done. These guys were my heroes. They may have just lost the game, but that didn’t make them losers in my eyes. Not one little bit.
Remembering the high I’d felt that night, I realised that’s why I enjoyed the visits to the schools. While I was no Beckham, I’d never even get close to that, but I could try my best. If I could be some kid’s hero, even for a minute, then I got more out of it than they ever could.
“It was awesome. I don’t know why you don’t do it more often.” I nudged him. It was an argument we had around here often. While I loved doing the visits, it made me nervous who was going to do them when I was gone. At least I knew the club wouldn’t stop them. Which meant one of these bone heads was going to have to man up and take over.
“Go near those kids? Nah, man, that’s not my thing. Especially when their mums aren’t even there to provide the eye candy.”
“You’re terrible, you know that?”
“Absolutely.”
With a shake of my head, I dropped down on the bench and pulled the tape out of my bag. You knew you were getting old when you had to tape your ankles for training. I’d resisted for a long time, refusing to wrap up for anything but the games, but age, pain, and the physios had caught up with me.
“All right, ladies. Enough gossiping. I expect everyone out on the field in two minutes ready to go,” Coach barked. Not willing to risk extra laps today, I hurriedly changed into my boots and made my way out onto the field.
***
I lasted four days.
Four very long days.
It was Saturday afternoon and I was back at the club preparing for tonight’s game. At least I should’ve been. Instead, I was standing outside Marianne’s office trying to find my balls.
“Are you going to walk a hole in that floor, Conti, or are you going to man up, get in here and beg for whatever favour you want to ask me?”
“Um…”
“Conti! Get your arse in here.” Not wanting to risk her wrath, I slipped into her office and dropped into the seat opposite her. “Well, Luca…wanna tell me what bug crawled up your butt?”
“What makes you think something crawled up my butt?”
“Come on, Conti. We’ve both got shit to do today. You’ve got a game to play, and I’ve got a schedule to sort,” she said, pointing to the piles of paperwork and coloured pens scattered across her messy desk. “Spill.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “I know this sounds dumb, but I need a favour…” I didn’t know why this was so hard, but I was sweating like a whore in a church.
“Okay.” Marianne dropped her pen and leaned back in her chair.
“You know the school visit the other day?”
“Westview Primary School?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“What about it?”
“There was a teacher there. I was… well.” Shit this was so much harder than I thought.
“Damn it!”
“What?”
“I owe Jessie fifty bucks.”
“Huh? What’s owing Jessie got to do with…”
“We saw you with Miss McCoy. That is the teacher we’re talking about here, isn’t it?” I nodded, still completely confused. “He bet you’d be in here asking for her details within a week. I was sure you could hold out for at least ten days.”
