Today is a rest day, which means I shouldn’t be thinking about football.But football is my life, so I switch on the sports news.
Huge surprise: Kyle and I are the headlines.Seeing our faces together brings back memories of that amazing night we shared.I have tried not to fall for him, but when you’ve had a crush on someone for most of your life, it’s hard to ignore those feelings.Harder still, to admit them to yourself.
The sports pundits are giving the viewers a rundown of our stats:
Goals scored at under 21 level:
“AJ” Johnson - 56
Kyle Thurston - 64
Assists at under 21 level:
“AJ” Johnson - 10
Kyle Thurston - 25
Goals at the end of last season (less than 15 games played in all competitions:)
“AJ” Johnson - 7
Kyle Thurston - 9
“The stats don’t lie, but what they don’t tell you is that AJ is playing for the best team in the world, and Kyle’s goals helped his now-former club survive the drop.Kyle has an eye for goals and for teammates too.”
“That’s true, but they are both so young and will both be prominent starters next season at rival clubs.So tell me, who is going to have the edge?”
I watch the three men and the female pundits, all clad in suits, say in unison a mixture of both our names.It really is that tight.It’s like we’re tied together with an invisible string.
I head into the kitchen and make myself a protein shake, ready to attack the day.
“They would make a great partnership.”
I dash back into the room so quickly that I stumble over my own feet and land on the plush sofa.If only the rest of the world knew how clumsy I was, then there would be no debate about the penalty.My mind racing and my heart beating so fast, I fear it has grown legs and is trying to sprint out of my chest.
“How did they find out?”I hear myself panic-asking.
“Could you imagine both of these in-form and playing up top for England.The future is bright for these two players and for the national team.”
“Are you saying it might finally come home?”
“If they play like they did at the end of last season, then surely it has to, right?”
My heart rate steadies, and I get up from the sofa.
“They’re talking about a football partnership, good.For Kyle, I mean.”
I pace around the room, “Fuck, who am I even talking to?I need a pet.And while we’re asking for things that won’t happen, I need Kyle.”
Coming in from my run, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.I fish it out and see Dad’s name on the caller ID.
I sigh and answer it.
“Hey Dad.”
“Son, did you see the news?”
“About me being spoken about to play for England?Yeah, I saw it.”I know he isn’t referring to Kyle, and for some reason, that bothers me.He was a big part of my childhood and Dad used to play football with us in the back garden.
