Chapter 1
Prelude
It was a cold night, one of those nights that Saint-Étienne was famous for. I remember mum would always shriek "Don't forget your woolly hat and gloves" everytime I would go out in the evenings. However this night I wouldn't care.. I was going to see a World Cup match.
Yes it was 1998 and my family had decided to go on holiday to France during the World Cup tornament. Even before we left I begged my dad to get some tickets so we could go and see a match but he somewhat shrugged off my pleas and just said " I promise I'll see when were out there" Dad wasn't good at keeping promises, he promised to get me a Manchester United season ticket the year before and a ticket to see the Manchester United V Manchester City derby the year before the year before. So I wasn't holding out much hope...
Our hotel was all of 500 yards from the Geoffroy-Guichard stadium which would be hosting some of the World Cup matches. As it happens It was announced earlier in that week that England who had made it through to the Final Sixteen would play Argentina at that very stadium the Tuesday of the following week.
I again begged my dad to try and get tickets... I mean, really begged I rolled on the floor, cryed a bit, threw a tantrum... nothing was getting through to him though. He used the excuses of "they'll all be sold out" or "they're too exspensive" this time... What he really meant was he didn't want to waste money... good money that could be spent on drink.
An opportinity did present itself that very morning of the England match, me and dad were waiting for the English papers to be delivered when an elderly french man approached us and offered us two tickets to see the England V Argentina match that was taking place that night and that we could have them for a reasonable price. He said that he was going to go with his grandson but that his grandson had fallen ill and couldn't go anymore. My eyes lit up and I excitedly let out a little scream. My dad however refused point blank sending the man on his way. Again he gave excuses... this time they were that the "tickets could be fake" and that "they'll be too exspensive". My heart suck and as I reasoned with dad the man behind us chirped up and almost ripped the french mans arm off for the tickets.
That day I ignored my dad and spent the whole time in my room. Only leaving to make myself something to eat. Mum knew I was in a foul mood and delicately spoke to me about how when we got home she would make dad make it up to me. "it's not fair mum, I really wanted to go. He doesn't do anything with me and he never keeps his promises" I cryed to her.
That evening mum and dad were going out, down to the bar (Probably to watch the England match and for dad to get drunk). "Theo were off out now so be good for your brother please" Mum said giving me a kiss on the cheek before they left. Now they always leave my brother Sam in charge but he's so laid back it usually means i'm left to my own devices anyway. He's seventeen and I'm twelve so it's not as if I could get into that much trouble anyway is it? Unbeknown to mum and dad he too was off out, to see his holiday romance.. Nancy. "Right be good and don't tell mum and dad I'm going out theres's pizza in the fridge just warm it up if you get hungry" he hastily said before he too left the hotel room.
I turned on the TV just in time to catch the start of the football... I opened the window and could hear the screams and shouts from the stadium which was just down the road.
Six minutes in and I felt like switching it off as the world saw Gabriel Batistuta score a penalty, it was the matches first goal. Luckily I didn't turn it off as Alan Shearer scored four minutes later with a penalty of his own. "YES" I screamed running around the room celebrating... Then in the sixteenth minute I was running around the room again after seeing Michael Owen score from a mazy run and then popping the ball in the net. "We've won this now" I thought.
I took an impromptu loo break as I had worked myself into a frenzy and over excited myself. I heard a immense roar of cheers and boo's from both TV and the stadium, so leapt off the toilet seat, pants still round my ankles and saw the replays on the TV of Javier Zanetti's goal just before half time. I punched the sofa shouting "It's not fair". I kicked the bin which hurt my foot and sulked a bit. I had of course pulled up my trousers at this point.
In my anger and despair a thought shot into my mind... "What is the point in watching the match here and not getting involved in the World Cup, When I can easily go down to the stadium and try and enjoy the atmoshere".
As I thought it through it made more and more sence and as I planned it out I excitedly smiled and agreed with my own reasons.
So here was my plan..
Leave the hotel room and go to the stadium, enjoy the atmosphere that surrounds the stadium... Maybe try and find a bar or a pub, sneak in there, watch the second half of the game and be back again before no-one knows.
I've gone.
I decided to do it. It was uncharacteristic of me but how many World Cups will I be at in my lifetime I thought. "Don't forget your woolly hat and gloves" Mums words raced through my head then flew out again. I was too excited and only just remembered to take the hotel key as I left.
As I ran to the stadium as fast as I could I noticed just how cold it really was. "It will be worth it, It will be worth it" I said repeating to myself over and over. I somewhat wished I'd listen to mum more often
As I got to the stadium though I was left disappointed, there was no one around enjoying the spectre of the World Cup, no bars or pubs to sneak into. I thought to myself "I might as well just go back, what a waste of time" Then suddenly another thought clambered into my head... "You've come this far, you might as well see if you can sneak in and watch the match" I alarmingly didn't discard this wandering thought and the more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it. "Sod it" I said "Lets do it, whats the worst that could happen?".
I scoured the building for an entry and was suprised and lucky to find a sidedoor with a lorry parked up outside. A steward opened the door... "This is my chance" I said. I ran over and stood next to the lorry. CARLSBERG plastered all over it. "Merci, le fans will be 'appy now they 'ave their alcohol they are all brutes if you ask me though, it's it only a game" The lorry driver nodded and seemed disinterested with the french steward and called him over to sign something. With the sidedoor now unmanned I took my chance and raced in through it. "Oi You" I heard a shout... I'd been caught...
Hiding behind a beer barrel I looked to the Steward who to my amazment was still talking to the lorry driver... "Yea you! Be careful with those crates they are very 'eavy, would you like a 'and"
I gave a hugh sigh of relief and quicky scarpered from the room. I followed it round to the next corridor and ended up going up some stairs, through some more corridors and then down some stairs... I was lost! "****" I thought... "I'll never get to see this match now" I heard the crowd cheer and the referee blow the whistle for the start of the second half.
I quickly turned one last coner and was blinded by an amazing bright light. I could hear everything much clearer, fans shouting "Come on Alan, you can do this" and screaming louder than anything i'd ever heard before. Then suddenly the noise stopped, a wave of silence overcame the stadium... My eyes still hadn't adjusted to the light... Then a huge gasp came from the rafters and then a chorus of boo's... Unfortunately for me my eyes adjusted right at the wrong time. What I saw was criminal.. The referee was holding a red card and looking straight at David Beckham.. Yes the David Beckham from Manchester United I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
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As I stood in awe of what was happening and digesting the scenario I nearly didn't realise that David Beckham was walking straight towards me.... Suddenly it clicked, I was stood in the tunnel that the players walk onto the pitch from. I thought "****** me" then felt bad as mum always said swearing is wrong. Anyway with so many things whirling round my mind I panicked... "Should I say anything?, What should I say?, Should I hide?"
Luckily David made that decision for me "what a joke" he muttered as he walked past... "Stupid ref" I replied wondering where those words came from. He stopped, turned around, looked me up and down and said "Do yourself a favour don't get into football kid". He then did something I will never forget, he took off his shirt and handed it to me. "Not too many people will want this now" he said as he walked away... his eyes glazed over, he almost looked like he was going to cry.
I didn't really understand what he meant... Who wouldn't want David Beckhams shirt. As I stood there in complete awe I heard a yell "There 'e is, le boy that snuck in through the cellar door". I thought I hadn't been seen but obviously the wiley steward had noticed me. I shoved David's shirt under mine and was swiftly escorted out of the stadium by no more than four angry stewards.. I didn't understand them but wasn't really listening anyway... All I could think of was that i'd just met David Beckham.
After a dressing down from the stewards I ran back to the hotel.. I put Davids top on as it was cold. It was big so warmed me up quite well. When I got back I collapsed into the armchair, the adrenaline that had been racing through my body had definately worn me out. I sat there for sometime thinking about the nights actions before I even realised about the match. I was totally in my own world. I switched on the telly just in time to see David Batty put the ball down on the penalty spot. The commentators filled me in on what had happened... "David Batty need's to score this or were out of the World Cup" they pessimisticly said... My hands covered my eyes as I let my ears do all the work...
"He runs up, shoots... saved, it's saved.. England are out of the World Cup".
I turned off the TV in an instand and again drifted off into my own world. This was my best night ever whilst being the worst aswell. I heard the hoteldoor open and then another slam. Sam was back that meant. The hoteldoor opened again, "Did you watch it Theo?" mum said excitedly, proud that she sat through a whole football match and understood it. "What a loada codswallop, that was di...di... dispicable" dad drunkenly said with beer down his top and a half empty can in hand "That Beckham what a wan*er" he added. I stood there staring at him. Mum rolled her eyes and left to go to bed... she kissed me on the head and left.
"Where'd you get that from boy?" dad pointed at my shirt. I ignored him. "Oi I said where'd you get that from? "I...I found it" I nervously replied. It's not that I was afraid of dad when he'd been drinking just that he was unpredictable, he'd either hug me, ignore me or yell at me. He chose to hug me this time "That's cool, saves me having to buy you one... Ha!" and with that dad went to bed too.
That night I lay there in bed still wearing David's shirt. Remembering what he said.. "Don't get into football kid". I thought to myself, I love football and certainly don't want to end up like my dad. So I whispered ever so softly... "Sorry David i'm getting into football".
It's 2010 now and I was 24. I had met my lovely fiancee Amy who was pregnant with our first child. I Hoped it was going to be boy! we lived in a nice house. I drove a Range Rover and an Aston Martin on weekends. I had my own small office with a secretary called Olana and I enjoyed my job. Sam was married to a woman called Clara but struggled to keep to just one girl as usual...
"Excuse me Theo", Olana called over "it's your mum on line one.
"Thankyou Ola"
"Yes mum I'll be straight over, trainings just finished... No I haven't forgotten, how could I forget mum"
'CLINK'
I looked over my desk... paperwork everywhere, player profiles, contact numbers, statistics a complete mess. I reached over and picked up a frame with a photo in it. I picked it up.
"Dad where did the wrongs go right"
Chapter 2 to follow....
Prelude
It was a cold night, one of those nights that Saint-Étienne was famous for. I remember mum would always shriek "Don't forget your woolly hat and gloves" everytime I would go out in the evenings. However this night I wouldn't care.. I was going to see a World Cup match.
Yes it was 1998 and my family had decided to go on holiday to France during the World Cup tornament. Even before we left I begged my dad to get some tickets so we could go and see a match but he somewhat shrugged off my pleas and just said " I promise I'll see when were out there" Dad wasn't good at keeping promises, he promised to get me a Manchester United season ticket the year before and a ticket to see the Manchester United V Manchester City derby the year before the year before. So I wasn't holding out much hope...
Our hotel was all of 500 yards from the Geoffroy-Guichard stadium which would be hosting some of the World Cup matches. As it happens It was announced earlier in that week that England who had made it through to the Final Sixteen would play Argentina at that very stadium the Tuesday of the following week.
I again begged my dad to try and get tickets... I mean, really begged I rolled on the floor, cryed a bit, threw a tantrum... nothing was getting through to him though. He used the excuses of "they'll all be sold out" or "they're too exspensive" this time... What he really meant was he didn't want to waste money... good money that could be spent on drink.
An opportinity did present itself that very morning of the England match, me and dad were waiting for the English papers to be delivered when an elderly french man approached us and offered us two tickets to see the England V Argentina match that was taking place that night and that we could have them for a reasonable price. He said that he was going to go with his grandson but that his grandson had fallen ill and couldn't go anymore. My eyes lit up and I excitedly let out a little scream. My dad however refused point blank sending the man on his way. Again he gave excuses... this time they were that the "tickets could be fake" and that "they'll be too exspensive". My heart suck and as I reasoned with dad the man behind us chirped up and almost ripped the french mans arm off for the tickets.
That day I ignored my dad and spent the whole time in my room. Only leaving to make myself something to eat. Mum knew I was in a foul mood and delicately spoke to me about how when we got home she would make dad make it up to me. "it's not fair mum, I really wanted to go. He doesn't do anything with me and he never keeps his promises" I cryed to her.
That evening mum and dad were going out, down to the bar (Probably to watch the England match and for dad to get drunk). "Theo were off out now so be good for your brother please" Mum said giving me a kiss on the cheek before they left. Now they always leave my brother Sam in charge but he's so laid back it usually means i'm left to my own devices anyway. He's seventeen and I'm twelve so it's not as if I could get into that much trouble anyway is it? Unbeknown to mum and dad he too was off out, to see his holiday romance.. Nancy. "Right be good and don't tell mum and dad I'm going out theres's pizza in the fridge just warm it up if you get hungry" he hastily said before he too left the hotel room.
I turned on the TV just in time to catch the start of the football... I opened the window and could hear the screams and shouts from the stadium which was just down the road.
Six minutes in and I felt like switching it off as the world saw Gabriel Batistuta score a penalty, it was the matches first goal. Luckily I didn't turn it off as Alan Shearer scored four minutes later with a penalty of his own. "YES" I screamed running around the room celebrating... Then in the sixteenth minute I was running around the room again after seeing Michael Owen score from a mazy run and then popping the ball in the net. "We've won this now" I thought.
I took an impromptu loo break as I had worked myself into a frenzy and over excited myself. I heard a immense roar of cheers and boo's from both TV and the stadium, so leapt off the toilet seat, pants still round my ankles and saw the replays on the TV of Javier Zanetti's goal just before half time. I punched the sofa shouting "It's not fair". I kicked the bin which hurt my foot and sulked a bit. I had of course pulled up my trousers at this point.
In my anger and despair a thought shot into my mind... "What is the point in watching the match here and not getting involved in the World Cup, When I can easily go down to the stadium and try and enjoy the atmoshere".
As I thought it through it made more and more sence and as I planned it out I excitedly smiled and agreed with my own reasons.
So here was my plan..
Leave the hotel room and go to the stadium, enjoy the atmosphere that surrounds the stadium... Maybe try and find a bar or a pub, sneak in there, watch the second half of the game and be back again before no-one knows.
I've gone.
I decided to do it. It was uncharacteristic of me but how many World Cups will I be at in my lifetime I thought. "Don't forget your woolly hat and gloves" Mums words raced through my head then flew out again. I was too excited and only just remembered to take the hotel key as I left.
As I ran to the stadium as fast as I could I noticed just how cold it really was. "It will be worth it, It will be worth it" I said repeating to myself over and over. I somewhat wished I'd listen to mum more often
As I got to the stadium though I was left disappointed, there was no one around enjoying the spectre of the World Cup, no bars or pubs to sneak into. I thought to myself "I might as well just go back, what a waste of time" Then suddenly another thought clambered into my head... "You've come this far, you might as well see if you can sneak in and watch the match" I alarmingly didn't discard this wandering thought and the more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it. "Sod it" I said "Lets do it, whats the worst that could happen?".
I scoured the building for an entry and was suprised and lucky to find a sidedoor with a lorry parked up outside. A steward opened the door... "This is my chance" I said. I ran over and stood next to the lorry. CARLSBERG plastered all over it. "Merci, le fans will be 'appy now they 'ave their alcohol they are all brutes if you ask me though, it's it only a game" The lorry driver nodded and seemed disinterested with the french steward and called him over to sign something. With the sidedoor now unmanned I took my chance and raced in through it. "Oi You" I heard a shout... I'd been caught...
Hiding behind a beer barrel I looked to the Steward who to my amazment was still talking to the lorry driver... "Yea you! Be careful with those crates they are very 'eavy, would you like a 'and"
I gave a hugh sigh of relief and quicky scarpered from the room. I followed it round to the next corridor and ended up going up some stairs, through some more corridors and then down some stairs... I was lost! "****" I thought... "I'll never get to see this match now" I heard the crowd cheer and the referee blow the whistle for the start of the second half.
I quickly turned one last coner and was blinded by an amazing bright light. I could hear everything much clearer, fans shouting "Come on Alan, you can do this" and screaming louder than anything i'd ever heard before. Then suddenly the noise stopped, a wave of silence overcame the stadium... My eyes still hadn't adjusted to the light... Then a huge gasp came from the rafters and then a chorus of boo's... Unfortunately for me my eyes adjusted right at the wrong time. What I saw was criminal.. The referee was holding a red card and looking straight at David Beckham.. Yes the David Beckham from Manchester United I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
View attachment 76171
As I stood in awe of what was happening and digesting the scenario I nearly didn't realise that David Beckham was walking straight towards me.... Suddenly it clicked, I was stood in the tunnel that the players walk onto the pitch from. I thought "****** me" then felt bad as mum always said swearing is wrong. Anyway with so many things whirling round my mind I panicked... "Should I say anything?, What should I say?, Should I hide?"
Luckily David made that decision for me "what a joke" he muttered as he walked past... "Stupid ref" I replied wondering where those words came from. He stopped, turned around, looked me up and down and said "Do yourself a favour don't get into football kid". He then did something I will never forget, he took off his shirt and handed it to me. "Not too many people will want this now" he said as he walked away... his eyes glazed over, he almost looked like he was going to cry.
I didn't really understand what he meant... Who wouldn't want David Beckhams shirt. As I stood there in complete awe I heard a yell "There 'e is, le boy that snuck in through the cellar door". I thought I hadn't been seen but obviously the wiley steward had noticed me. I shoved David's shirt under mine and was swiftly escorted out of the stadium by no more than four angry stewards.. I didn't understand them but wasn't really listening anyway... All I could think of was that i'd just met David Beckham.
After a dressing down from the stewards I ran back to the hotel.. I put Davids top on as it was cold. It was big so warmed me up quite well. When I got back I collapsed into the armchair, the adrenaline that had been racing through my body had definately worn me out. I sat there for sometime thinking about the nights actions before I even realised about the match. I was totally in my own world. I switched on the telly just in time to see David Batty put the ball down on the penalty spot. The commentators filled me in on what had happened... "David Batty need's to score this or were out of the World Cup" they pessimisticly said... My hands covered my eyes as I let my ears do all the work...
"He runs up, shoots... saved, it's saved.. England are out of the World Cup".
I turned off the TV in an instand and again drifted off into my own world. This was my best night ever whilst being the worst aswell. I heard the hoteldoor open and then another slam. Sam was back that meant. The hoteldoor opened again, "Did you watch it Theo?" mum said excitedly, proud that she sat through a whole football match and understood it. "What a loada codswallop, that was di...di... dispicable" dad drunkenly said with beer down his top and a half empty can in hand "That Beckham what a wan*er" he added. I stood there staring at him. Mum rolled her eyes and left to go to bed... she kissed me on the head and left.
"Where'd you get that from boy?" dad pointed at my shirt. I ignored him. "Oi I said where'd you get that from? "I...I found it" I nervously replied. It's not that I was afraid of dad when he'd been drinking just that he was unpredictable, he'd either hug me, ignore me or yell at me. He chose to hug me this time "That's cool, saves me having to buy you one... Ha!" and with that dad went to bed too.
That night I lay there in bed still wearing David's shirt. Remembering what he said.. "Don't get into football kid". I thought to myself, I love football and certainly don't want to end up like my dad. So I whispered ever so softly... "Sorry David i'm getting into football".
It's 2010 now and I was 24. I had met my lovely fiancee Amy who was pregnant with our first child. I Hoped it was going to be boy! we lived in a nice house. I drove a Range Rover and an Aston Martin on weekends. I had my own small office with a secretary called Olana and I enjoyed my job. Sam was married to a woman called Clara but struggled to keep to just one girl as usual...
"Excuse me Theo", Olana called over "it's your mum on line one.
"Thankyou Ola"
"Yes mum I'll be straight over, trainings just finished... No I haven't forgotten, how could I forget mum"
'CLINK'
I looked over my desk... paperwork everywhere, player profiles, contact numbers, statistics a complete mess. I reached over and picked up a frame with a photo in it. I picked it up.
"Dad where did the wrongs go right"
Chapter 2 to follow....
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