I’ve no idea why he asks, as he’s already making his way into the kitchen and getting himself a bottle of water from the fridge.My heart rate quickens, and he can definitely see it on my face because he says, “Don’t worry.You’re not in trouble.Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Okay, now my heart is threatening to explode in my chest, right in my kitchen.I put a hand on the counter to steady myself.My anxiety threatens to spike and, like always, a few of my insidious thoughts try to poison this moment before I've even had a chance to assess the situation.
“Is–is everything okay?”I manage to sputter out.
“Our next game, against the Blues.You’re going to be on the bench.So I’m going to need you at the training lodge within the next two hours to go over tactics and get you up to speed with the rest of the team.”
Coach keeps talking, but my world is spinning.The Bench.And in a local derby game too.The Blues are one of our rivals.We take it a lot more seriously than their fans because we’ve not quite achieved what they have over the years.
Regardless of that, it’s a huge game for the fans and the players.And sure, it’s not like the derbies up north, but it’s still incredible and a huge chance to prove myself.I get hold of my dark thoughts and shake them away.I try not to let the anxiety show on my face either.Instead, I return a smile like I would return a pass on the pitch.
“Yes, Coach,” I say, with more confidence than I thought possible.
“Good, good.As soon as you arrive, Trish will meet you and get you all set up.I thought it would be nice for you to have a friendly face on arrival.And besides, Trish has been working on your fitness and performance, I’d like this to continue, as it has yielded unprecedented results.”
He takes his bottle of water and leaves, just like that, as if he hasn’t swiftly changed my life.I feel like Beckham must have felt when Sir Alex Ferguson, legendary manager of Union, knocked on his door.The coach never makes personal visits unless he feels utterly compelled to.This is a huge vote of confidence.
Sure, I might not get off the bench, and sure, it might change again on the day, but this proves that Coach has noticed me.I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and try to steady my nerves, my hands shaking from a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
I saw on social media about an hour ago that AJ’s team had put him in the starting eleven.It seems that no matter how much time has passed and no matter how far apart we are, we are always intertwined.Even when something good happens, he is always who I go back to in my mind, and it’s not lost on me that thoughts of him steady my nerves.
I think about reaching out to him by text, wishing him good luck.Then I remember how he turned his back on our childhood club.How he now plays for our fiercest rival.We said when we were kids, no matter how much money we’re offered, we would never play for them.We even did a blood oath; we thought it was the coolest thing when we saw it in that IT movie.Ialso thought that playing for the City was as bad as Pennywise, but what do I know?So no, I won’t text him.Instead, I get myself ready to meet my first team squad.
Chapter 2
AJ
I’m sitting in the locker room with bona fide living legends.There’s no other way to put it.I pinch myself to make sure I’m actually here.If the people who used to say my family bought my place in the academy could see me now.I’ve earned this, there’s no denying it.I’m in the starting lineup for the best team in England.
And okay, sure, it’s not my favorite team, but they’re the ones paying me the big wad of cash.More money than I can spend in a whole year arrives in my bank account every week.Because my family has never struggled for wealth, I do feel a pang of guilt about having so much.I’ve asked my finance guy to put some of my earnings into charities in the local area, but told them to make all donations anonymous.I don’t want people to know what I do with my money.And sure, maybe it would raise my public profile, but I’m a footballer, I should be praised for what I doonthe pitch, not off it.
My mind switches focus to the gaffer, others call him Coach, some call him Boss.To me, it’s always Gaffer.He’s running through tactics for our upcoming game against the newly promoted club.I think that’s why I’m in the team, part of a squad rotation exercise.I don’t mind in the slightest.I’m in the squad and in the starting lineup.I called my parents as soon as I found out the news, and they were happy.My dad is also my agent, and he was more concerned about how we could wrangle a new pay deal under appearance bonuses.I tried to tell him it’s fine, but as always, he steamrollered the conversation.Sometimes, I wish I was a little more in control of my life, and he was a little more like a dad as opposed to my agent.
Gaffer says I’m to stay in the box, and come back for corners but only by the halfway line.I’m tall, but very mobile too.I pride myself on that.Normally, when a player is as tall as me, six feet and two inches—and yes, those extra inches are important—they’re slower.But I train harder to bethecomplete player.The idea being for my teammates to ping the ball out to me, and I can run through on goal.It worked like a charm in my normal league.
But this is different and the margin for error is slim.Our fans demand so much of us since our huge injection of cash.They want the new players to succeed instantly.I’ve already become a cult hero of sorts because I “defected” from the enemy club.Every time I read a post on social media about it, it stabs at my heart.Photos of me when I was younger, wearing my Union kit, crop up from time to time with captions like “He made the right choice” and “Blue Treasure.”I play for the love of the game.The money they pay me goes to the bills, the ones they let me pay for, and to keep a certain image that my dad insists I keep.The extra cash goes to charities.The outside world sees me as a millionaire's child, who is doing this for a laugh.
I think that’s what winds opposing fans up too, as they see my family's wealth and think I’m taking a dream from someone else.This has been my dream since I could walk.It’s not my fault I’m from money.I can have dreams and aspirations of my own.I play with a smile on my face and try to drown out the negatives.
“And, AJ,” Gaffer says, bringing my focus back into the room, “go out there and have some fun.Ignore the crowd.Their number four, their defender, is a hot head.If you nutmeg him a few times, he’ll lunge in for a tackle.Make the most of it and get him booked.That should keep him quiet for the rest of the game if you do it early enough.”
I’m annoyed that the gaffer wants me to cheat!I ball my hands up by my side and bite my tongue.I know simulation is normal, borderline accepted now, but with VAR (Video Assistant Referee)—or Very Annoying Refs, as I call it—it’s much harder to get away with.Honestly, how can it be right when another dozen refs sit in a room and scrutinize the play?And the worst part, each VAR ref will interpret a decision in a different way.It’s maddening.I have never simulated a dive and swore I never would.But if he says so, I guess I have to.Whatever keeps me on the team.I nod to him.But I’m already thinking of alternatives.
He’s not the quickest defender in the league, so I could always outpace him.I’m also a lot stronger than him, so I could use my strength if he tries to mark me out of the game.
I absorb the rest of the team talk, and then we’re excused for fifteen minutes before hitting the gym.
Whipping out my phone, I decide to scroll my socials.Something catches my eyes.Kyle Thurston.He’s been named among the substitutes for his match against the Blues.For some reason, my heart swells with joy for him.There have been so many times I’ve wanted to reach out to him but I get the feeling he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.I don’t know if he still blames me for getting transferred all those years ago, but how could he?We both got transferred.I just got transferred to the club we swore we’d never play for.
We were kids when we made that pact.Surely, he’s not holding a grudge about that.There’s just no way.Then again, Kyle is the most stubborn person on planet earth.I hope I can win him around again, I’ve missed him.
Chapter 3
Kyle
It's a rest day before my first big game of the season, which is why I’m sitting in my car outside my parents’ house on my old council estate.I promised my parents I’d be home as much as possible, as long as it didn’t impact my training, and being a good son, I’m true to my word—and I’m even beginning to enjoy the four-hour car rides.No, really, I am.I’ve burned through so many classic cassettes.I almost manage to drown out my anxiety most of the time, so that’s a win on an otherwise mind-numbing journey.
Unbuckling my seatbelt with a sigh, I head to the front door of my childhood home.Nothing has changed around here.The bins are overstuffed on every street corner, graffiti stretches across every inch of alleyway wall and kids are playing on the same swatch of grass I used to each day until I was forced to go in, which was normally when AJ and I could barely see each other in the moonlight.
