“Well, what happened?” Dara jumps to his feet when Da and I return to my hotel room after our meeting with my new agent and the management team from Thamesford FC—a Premier League club based in London.
Dad and I share an excited grin, and I’m sure the shock is still registered on both our faces. I’m in a daze, and it hasn’t sunk in yet because this has all happened so fast. I only spoke with the scout a week ago, after we won our first match in the UK University Tournament, but the interest was crystal clear. So, Dad hopped on a plane, arriving a couple of days ago, because he wanted to attend the meeting with me.
I’m glad he was there because I needed him. I wouldn’t have asked half the questions he did, and he’s the one who rang Stephen, my old manager, and got some agent recommendations. Dad spoke with a few agents and organized a call with the guy he liked best so I could talk with him and see if I agreed. Eddie is sound, and he knows his stuff, so I was happy to sign with him. He belongs to the same agency that negotiated Mason Melia’s contract from Pat’s to Spurs, so I know I’m in good hands.
“They made him an official offer.” Dad’s face is beaming with pride. “The contract paperwork is in motion, and they are moving fast as everything has to be registered and signed before the January transfer window closes at the end of the month.”
“Holy shit, bro.” Dara grabs me into a bear hug. “This is fucking amazing. I knew you could do it! I knew it!” His eyes look suspiciously glassy as he hugs me tight. “I’m so fucking proud of you, mate.”
“Steady on, lad. Can’t play ball in the Premiership if you hug me to death.”
Dara is fighting tears as he lets me go.
“You should ring your mother and tell her.”
“It’s five in the morning in Ryemont, Da.”
“If you think your mother is sleeping, you don’t know her, son. Trust me, she’s awake and desperate to find out how the meeting went. Call her. I’m off to phone your granddad. He’s already left me a ton of messages.” He slips out of the room.
“Tell me everything,” Dara says. “How much are they offering?”
“Listen while I tell Ma,” I say, punching in her number and putting it on loudspeaker as I plonk down beside my brother on the bed.
I desperately want to call Astrid first, but she’s most likely sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb her even if she told me to phone her the minute I got out of the meeting. She’s been burning the midnight oil on a big assignment this week, and I don’t want to fuck up her sleep.
Ma screams down the line when I tell her they have offered me a contract. Then she bursts out crying. Dara grins. “Sorry, son,” Mum says when she’s finally composed herself. “I’m emotional because this is everything you’ve dreamed of. Everything you worked so hard for, for years, and to see itcoming true is just incredible. I am very happy for you, Callan, and so, so proud.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
“I still don’t know the details,” Dara complains.
“Are you sitting down, Ma?” I ask before I tell her the rest. Don’t want her collapsing on me.
“Oh gawd. I’m going to cry again, aren’t I?”
I laugh. “Probably.”
“Hit me with it.”
I draw a deep breath and let it all out. “It’s a five-mil deal.”
Ma gasps.
“But I don’t get any of that. A percentage goes to my agent, and the rest will be split between Anto’s, Pat’s, and Bennington Turo. My earnings come from my contract. Eddie negotiated a four-hundred-grand signing-on fee and a five-year deal at twenty-K a week. There will be different bonuses too, like goal bonuses, relegation-avoidance bonuses, performance-based bonuses, and appearance fees, etcetera. The club has insurance, so if I pick up any injuries and can’t play a match, I still get paid. Get this, they’re gonna put me in an apartment for the first three months, and then they’ll give me an accommodation allowance. With everything included, I’ll likely earn twenty-five-K sterlinga week. Fucking hell.”
I drag my hands through my hair. “I’ll be loaded! It’s crazy. Getting to play football for a living is the dream. Getting all this cash on top is sick.” It’s not like I didn’t know there is a lot of money to be made as a footballer in the Premiership, but it’s never been my focus.
“You’ll be set up for life,” Dara says.
“Does the club provide any financial advisers?” Ma asks. “If not, we’ll hire one. That kind of money can last a lifetime if you’re smart with it. It’s best to start off as you mean to go on and?—”
“Ma. Stop. I haven’t even signed the bleedin’ contract yet. I’m sure they have advisers, and I’ll worry about that later.”
“You should get your own adviser anyway,” Dara says. “Eddie will have contacts.”
My phone pings with a message from Astrid, and my smile gets wider. “I’ve got to go, Ma. I need to call Astrid, but I’ll ring you back later.”
“Tell her I said hi, and I’m so proud of you, honey. Can’t wait to hug you.”
