We played a couple of movement games, things like 'run round the circle if you like the colour blue', so the kids could get to know a little bit about each other and find something they had in common. I watched the boy who was chubbier than the rest, finding out that his name was Billy – he had a dog, and at least one sister at home, and I made a mental note to make sure I singled him out for some praise later on. His tee shirt was slightly too tight, and I'd put money on his trainers being at least a size too small.
After we'd finished those games, I got each of the kids to come up with a couple of moves. Those, along with bits of Mickey's finest TikTok routines were put together to create a mashup of manic, completely uncoordinated movements that definitely wouldn't win any awards, but would certainly get the kids’ heart rates up. As well as looking a hell of a lot better than what Little Miss Sunshine was coming up with.
Dino called us all back together to show off what we'd done. One of the other coaches went first, his routine pretty standard in terms of drills, star jumps and burpees. I saw Dee gave the group a big clap with a wide, genuine smile on her face, encouraging her team to applaud too. Then it was the second group, with mine next and Dee’s to go last. The second group had gone for a take off of Madonna's Vogue combined with a bit of break dancing. One of the kids was actually really good, and after a bit of goading we managed to get the coach to copy it, which proved he had pretty much no coordination for anything other than football.
My squad went through the routine with ease, putting Mickey's TikTok dances to shame. I took a bow alongside them, giving Billy a big pat on the back. The kid looked like he'd actually enjoyed it, and the big beaming smile on his face was almost better than scoring a winning goal.
Then it was Dee’s group. I stood behind where my team was sitting, my arms folded and my eyes on her. She saw me watching her and for a second, I noticed her eyes narrowing and that almost permanent smile being erased from those full lips.
You won't win,I saw her mouth. My response: the cutest smile I could muster, and a tiny little finger wave. I was pretty sure that if the kids hadn't been there, she would have returned with a different sort of hand gesture.
Instead, she gave me a smile that already looked smug, before organising her group into a line and then facing them. She counted to three and the kids started with fast high knees, and then a series of star jumps before launching into a routine that was half cheerleading and half some form of mockery of a TikTok routine that had been invented by someone who was clearly inebriated.
It wasn't smooth, and it definitely didn't look professional, but it got the kids moving fast and what I knew Dino would like best was the smiles on their faces and the fact that at least two of them were struggling to stand up with all the giggling they were doing. A couple of kids from my group stood up and started copying bits of the routine.
Dee turned round and gave me a triumphant smile, one that told me she absolutely knew she’d won this. I shook my head and encouraged the rest of my group to stand up and copy. I always hated losing, I think you had to hate losing if you were a professional sports person, but I wanted to win everything, and most of all, I wanted to win whatever I was doing when I was competing against Dee.
When I finally got home, I felt almost as exhausted as what I did after playing ninety minutes plus extra time in a cup game. After Dee had won the competition, all of her group receiving a Manchester Athletic water bottle each, Dino had given us each a list of activities to go through with the kids, simple drill stuff followed by some footwork skills, followed by practice on scoring a goal. There were half a dozen children who had specifically come to learn goal keeping skills, and they spent the better part of the morning and some of the afternoon with their own coach for that, getting a chance to mind the net for that last part of the practise.
It was fun, my only wish being that I had been able to choose doing this rather than having been instructed to by my coach. When I helped clear up at the end of the day, there was a handy reporter who'd been allowed through, clearly part of Genevieve’s masterplan to get some positives about me in the media. He asked a couple of questions about what we were doing, and I gave the usual spiel about the work the club did in the community and how I was only too happy to help out, throwing in a couple of lines about the importance of bringing on the next generation of footballers, as well as helping out children from less wealthy backgrounds.
Dee didn't hang around at the end. In fact, I saw her having a brief word with Dino before she scurried off to her car, the usual smile replaced with something that looked very un-Dee like.
I didn't spend any time thinking about what was going on in her head, I didn't want to know. It did make me wonder whether most of Dee’s smiles were fake.
I'd forgotten that today was the day when Ryan O'Connell was moving in. He'd officially signed yesterday evening, and while it was still off-season, the club wanted to get him up here and settled for the start of pre-season training. I had no idea where he'd lived down in London, and what his personal circumstances were, other than that he wasn't married or had a serious partner because otherwise he wouldn't be doing a house share with me.
Rhys was also his agent, so before I left the training grounds, I checked my phone to see a message from him, reminding me of my house guest and telling me tofucking behave myself.Although I wasn't overly bothered about Ryan becoming my housemate, I had gotten used to having my own company so I knew I should probably start looking for properties to buy in the area. A lot of my teammates had houses around Alderley and Prestbury, which tended to be set back off the road and have large gardens and be some distance away from the neighbours, which afforded privacy. Alderley, in particular, had plenty of bars and restaurants nearby, with doormen who knew how to spot a wannabe WAG or a pap a mile away, which meant that those of us who wanted to relax and party could do so without worrying about who was watching.
I’d been a little bit more open about what I liked to do and where, up until now, figuring that even though I was a football player, I should still be able to make free choices. Not that I was ever indiscrete - I wasn't entirely stupid - but the events of the last few days had now made me question some of my life choices. Maybe a house that was difficult to find with a nice high wall in front of it, and with secure gates would be the best place to live for the next few years while I was still at Manchester Athletic. Transfer deadline day was coming up, and I knew that there were at least one or two footballers who lived in the area and would be moving clubs, meaning that there would be houses on the market that would already have the sorts of facilities I should probably be interested in.
Truth be told, I'd be quite happy living in a terraced house with one bathroom and enough space for the inevitable huge television. Growing up with not very much had meant that I wasn't particularly materialistic, unlike my ex-girlfriend.
The house I was currently living in was part of a gated community built by Manchester Athletic when they started to rebuild the football team in the facilities. The gates were opened as soon as my car turned onto the cul-de-sac that led to the small estate, a usual occurrence as there was twenty-four hour security on the gates. What wasn't usual though was the second car on my drive. It was an SUV, a new model from earlier in the year, and it looked sleek and newly polished. I pulled up next to it grabbing my gym bag out of the car before heading over to the house, knowing that there was going to be somebody else inside sharing my space. Someone that I'd only met a handful of times, all when he was on the opposing team.
Ryan was something of a mystery man. He'd picked up a couple of sponsorships from men's outfitters that were more around high fashion than sports gear, and he was often seen in glossy magazines rather than tabloids. I'd noticed on my way home that one of the billboards on the main road into the city centre now had his face on it with the commentWelcome to Manchester, Ryan O'Connell!I hoped he was prepared for a good old fashioned northern piss-taking when he came to the training ground.
He wasn't around downstairs when I entered, the fact the alarm was disabled freaking me out somewhat, because I was so used to it being set. The lounge and the huge kitchen diner looked just the same as they had this morning, so if Ryan had moved any of his stuff in, he'd already found a home for it down here.
I slouched down on the corner sofa, turning on the television and putting on a documentary channel, anything that would half distract me from feeling bored. Usually, after a day like today, I'd come home, get changed and head out to a restaurant either on a date, or meeting up with friends. I decided it was wise to lay low, and let Genevieve have her way with how she wanted me to be seen in the media. One of the things I was beginning to realise was that I might need to find some form of hobby to keep me occupied, as I absolutely wasn't going to be rushing into any form of relationship with another woman for the time being.
Footsteps coming into the room took my attention away from the documentary on big cats in Africa, and my new roommate appeared.
“How's it going?”
Ryan stood in the doorway wearing sweats and a tee shirt that looked like it had actually been ironed.
I gave a nod turning off the television and standing up. “Not bad. How's moving gone?”
Ryan shrugged, then headed towards the kitchen. This was a large, open plan kitchen/living room which looked like it had been specifically designed for footballers. Everywhere was decorated in either white or neutral colours, with top of the range furniture and probably the biggest television I'd ever seen in someone's house. It hadn't exactly been a hardship living here.
“Most of my stuff will arrive tomorrow or the day after. I've taken the room at the back, I hope that's alright.” He leaned against the breakfast bar and folded his arms. “I get that it's going to be weird you having a roomy after living here by yourself. Do you want to talk through any rules or any shit like that?”
I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of some veg and fruit juice that the club's nutritionist had me on. I offered it out to Ryan. “Want one?”
“That looks like shit, man.” His expression was one of someone who had just been offered a sandwich made by a child with extremely mucky hands. “What the fuck’s in that?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea, but you'll soon realise that doing whatever Neva tells you to do with your diet works. And after a few of these you stop choking after the first couple of gulps.”
