It’s been two days since AJ arrived on my doorstep in the rain.Two days since the media have tried to ruin my happiness.I have a game today and that’s all I’m focused on.My manager has told me to block out the noise, tells me he and the club will protect me as I am “the victim” and have nothing to worry about.On the surface he’s right, but I’m worried for AJ.I keep my head down in training, focusing on the drills and work on my speed and timing.The best thing to do is to make them focus on something else.
Becoming the league's top goal scorer should do it.Our game today is against one of our historic “bogey teams”—a team that turns into Prime Brazil whenever we’ve played them in the past.I used to sit in the stands in disbelief, wanting to run onto the pitch and help them out.Now I’m going to be on the pitch, helping them out.
My name is cheered throughout the stadium when it gets announced by the PA system.I still find it hard to get used to, but today is not a day to focus on the fairy tale stuff.Today is about scoring goals and shutting up the media.I noticed that AJ is only amongst the subs for his team, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s a direct consequence of the story, or if his manager is rotating his squad.
The ref blows his whistle, and I switch my focus to the game.The ball comes to me in an instant.I carry it forward, weaving in and out of challenges, before laying a sweeping pass off to Bradley on the right wing.He’s almost as fast as me, and the defenders can’t cope.He dances into the box and shoots at goal.The keeper parries it, but only as far as me.A defender comes sliding in.I dummy a shot, sending him the wrong way.I watch as the keeper scrambles back into position, then sell him the eyes and bury the ball in the opposite corner.1–0.
I don’t celebrate.My teammates pile onto me, and the crowd serenades me.I pick up the ball and carry it to the center spot.I don’t have time for games, I'm making a statement.
We go in at halftime, 3–0 up.I have contributed with one goal and two assists.I read online last month that I don’t pass enough, so I’m fixing that error too.They can write whatever they want about me, as long as it’s the truth.
The second half is as one sided as the first, but now the tackles are flying in, mostly at me.We are finally getting revenge on the team, and I’m feeling great about the whole thing.When I’m on the ball, I feel free and relaxed.I’m spraying balls left and right, dinking them over onrushing players, and at one point, I have a slight smile on my face when I score my second and third goal.A hat trick and two assists.That should shut them up.They’ll talk about my football ability for one weekend, at least.
The game ends, and I shake hands with the opposing team before heading back to the changing room, where I’m mobbed by my teammates.
“Kyle,” my manager says, “great work out there today.The press wants to speak with you.”
I wipe my face with a towel and put on my best“media friendly”face, which is slightly less than a scowl.
Once again, the room is filled with assholes with smartphones and microphones, itching to make the headlines with shitty journalism and falsehoods.
“Kyle, you scored a hat trick today; do you feel you’re finding your form with this team?”
“I am just doing what’s best for the team, whether that’s scoring a hat trick or, on this occasion, getting two assists.”
I watch as they all scribble stuff down in their notebooks and clack their keys on their laptops.
“Kyle, what do you make of the investigation toward your former friend, AJ?”
And there goes my media friendly face.
I roll my shoulders back and lean into the microphone.I don’t want them to miss what I’m about to say.“‘What do I make of the investigation toward my former friend?’That is your question, right?”I ask.The person—slim as a pencil with a weasel face—nods, revealing a carnivorous grin.
“Let me tell you what I think.First of all, he is not my former friend.Heismy friend.Secondly, what gives you, or any one of you, the right to make up stuff to put in your papers and brainwash the public?Have you ever once asked how a player is feeling?Checked in on their mental health?No.You haven’t.You peddle your hate and your lies and produce it to the masses for them to scream at us on match days.And yes, I know they’ve paid their money to say what they want.Fine, fair enough.But when it comes at the cost of forgetting we’re human with feelings and emotions, that’s where I draw the line.You’re in the public eye, right?Would you like it if I sat behind you in your little office or your mum’s basement and rained abuse down at you for every typo you made?No.You wouldn’t.And I already know what you’re going to put on the front and back of the papers, but how about you for once, think about the person.That’s all I’ve got to say on the matter.”I stand up and walk out, adrenaline coursing through my body.
The headlines the next day are polarizing.I’m not sorry for what I said or how I said it.
Hat trick Hero Kyle Assisting with Mental Health
Kyle Thurston Slams Media
Kyle’s Call for Change
Kyle Goes Mental
Crying Kyle in Unprofessional Outburst
I’m not the only one in the headlines—of course AJ has made them again.I wonder how much money we have made for them?
AJ Bullies Defenders in Sensational Second Half Banging!
AJ Bags Himself Goals and More!
Catch Me If You Can—AJ Scores Four Goals in a Second Half Cameo, Sending Him Top of the Charts But Police Want to Question Him Over Violence
I can’t help but be amazed at AJ, coming on as a substitute and scoring four.Sure, the team they were against was rock bottom of the league, and sure, he scored more goals than me, but yet, I’m happy for him.Technically, I scored the hat trick first, though, and that comforts me.
I take a mouthful of the eggs Trish has made me.I know she is itching to talk, but thankfully she is giving me some much-needed processing time.I sent a text to AJ, asking how he is, and he told me he is coping okay.I don’t quite believe him, but don’t push him on it.
