touch with me. At first the attention was exhilarating but after we started receiving so many offers and visitors hoping to pry me away, the excitement started to turn into annoyance.
My mother and I concluded that whatever happened next, coach Manuel would play a part in it. It was only right that a man so instrumental in my success would partake in helping me with the next phase of my life. It was he that suggested that I look into getting an agent. Said person would be more qualified dealing with these teams and also work out a situation that was beneficial to me. After going through numerous candidates, we finally settled on Hector Romero. Hector had been in the business for a while and had an impressive client list. He was a pudgy man with a friendly demeanor. Unlike the other agents who talked like they owned the ground you walked on, he was soft spoken but direct. In fact I think the reason we chose him was based on him not looking and acting like he was an agent.
He quickly swung into action and set up try outs for me with some of the top teams in the world. Some of these teams I had only ever watched on TV, to be mentioned in the same breath as them was something I could never fathom up until that point. Now I would not only try out for some of the most iconic teams in the history of the game, but I also had a chance to play for them. It was simply mind blowing stuff for a kid who had only recently finished high school and had no idea what he was going to do with his life.
Our first stop was England to try out for some top premiership clubs. I had never left the boundaries of my little city talk less the shores of the country. I was curious to know what the world offered me and how different it was from what I had imagined. I only knew about England from the little I saw on TV. It had a great footballing tradition and now I would have a chance to try out for the likes of Arsenal, Manchester United, Chelsea and Newcastle. These were all popular teams and I couldn’t imagine why any of them would want me. I was simply the guy who scored the final goal in the high school championship game. That didn’t necessarily qualify me to play on the same pitch as the likes of Eden Hazard, Jack Wilshere and Wayne Rooney. Hector reassured me that I had something to offer. These teams had some of the best scouts the world had to offer, if they didn’t think I was worth their time, they would never have scheduled the try outs. Of course the doubts persisted but Hector’s words seemed to prevail. The least I could do was give them my best effort and if it didn’t work out, at least I got to travel to a foreign country and play on pitches I had only dreamed of seeing. I had nothing to complain about, life had been good to me in the last six months.
Hector had convinced the English teams that in order to cut down on expenses and resources; one try out with all teams present would make sense logistically. Since I would be arriving in London by plane, Emirates was agreed upon to be the venue where this would take place. On getting to London, I was blown away at the sheer amount of people on its streets at any one time. I came from a place where seeing 50 people at once was considered a big deal. All of a sudden I was thrust into this vibrant city, where people moved around like worker ants. Hustling to and fro, a sea of human bodies. If not for Hector, I probably would be swallowed by said sea. He quickly commandeered the situation and got us into the comfort of a cab that would take us to the hotel we’d be staying at. My trip to London was my first eye opening experience at what major cities looked like. Back then it all felt so alien to me.
On the day of my try out, I was hit with a nasty case of nerves. Showing off my abilities in front of one coach was daunting enough, but to have four or five present was enough to send me into full blown jitter mode. Hector tried to convince me this was no big deal, all I had to do was be myself and everything would work itself out.
Unfortunately all that seemed to dissipate as soon as I got into the Emirates. I might not be a die hard Arsenal fan, but there are very few football fans out there who do not know of this place and its hallowed history. As we walked down its halls, past trophies and memorabilia, it almost felt like those heroes behind those glass boxes and portraits were calling out to me. Telling me of their exploits and achievements; warning me not to soil their sacred pitch. I tried to walk faster, to get away from it all, but everywhere I turned, I saw something that showed just how respected this club was and why it belonged to a select fraternity on the global stage.
We were almost at the entrance leading up to the pitch when I leaned on the wall and started breathing rapidly. I was having a panic attack and I couldn’t control my nerves anymore. Hector quickly swung into action, doing all he could to calm me. There was only one person that could help me at this point but he was hundreds of miles away. Luckily, Hector never went anywhere without his cell phone. Coach Manuel was called immediately and he pretty much talked me out of whatever was crippling me at the moment. With me, a lot of what fazed me was mental. Get past that and I was good to go.
I don’t know why or how it came to be that Coach Manuel had such an understanding of my psyche, but it probably has to do with the fact that he was the first father figure that truly connected with me. He genuinely cared and wanted the best for me.
Hector was a good man also, but he never could get through to me like Coach Manuel. After that phone conversation I felt a thousand times better and looked forward to getting on the field to show what I was capable of.
I stepped onto the pitch and immediately I was awed. Empty as it was, looking up into the stands was still an amazing sight to behold. This place was no ordinary arena. I couldn’t imagine I was out here, when only a month or so ago I was just a high school student. A bunch of men stood in the middle of the feed, conversing with each other. My heart almost a skipped a beat when I realized who they were...Sir Alex Ferguson, Arsene Wenger and four other men I didn’t know.
They were all chatting amicably; it looked like they all got along well. I couldn’t believe I was not only in the Emirates but here were two men, known as rivals across the sporting world, chatting it up like they were the best of buddies. An image like that never leaves you and helps to put things in perspective. It is a game after all, no matter what’s at stake; two competitors should be able to get along off the pitch. Seeing them talking without a care in the world seemed to have helped, as I became less nervous and quite eager to show these football titans what I was capable of.
Arsene was the first to notice us. He smiled and pointed, the other figures around him, following suit…turning their attention towards Hector and I. Hector walked forward briskly, shaking the hands of every one present. He introduced me to each one, making sure I shook hands only after he had introduced me. Arsene’s grip was firm but he smiled at me like we had known each other for ages. Alex was chewing his trademark bubblegum, he mumbled a few words of which I couldn’t understand but I nodded like I did. The other men nodded courteously at me as we shook hands, none said anything to me.
Hector said they would try to gauge how fast I was, how quick I reacted to situations and how good my ball control was. The whole thing lasted for about an hour plus. There were obstacle courses set up, simulated game play and some sprinting from one end of the field to another. All in all I thought I did well. I even saw Arsene and Alex smiling when I finished my run; I knew they were impressed with my speed.
Afterwards, each man talked to me for a few minutes. Asking me everything from my favorite player to my favorite subject in school. Hector told me they wanted to get an understanding of what type of kid I was. They had to know if I was worth the risk, and whilst this might only be a short meeting, these men were so used to this sort of thing, that they could usually tell if their teams would invest in such a player from those mini-interviews.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t intimidated by any of them. I answered confidently; after all they were asking of things that I had no reason to lie.
The only question that caught me off guard was from the Newcastle scout. He wanted to know if I would give up everything to play football. It took me aback because I had never thought about that.
I loved football but not a
t the expense of forsaking my loved ones. After football I’d still have to live with those choices. I thought about giving him the convenient answer. To make it sound like I valued winning above all else, but Coach Manuel had always told me it’s easier to recall the truth. A lie continually changes.
So I told him that I couldn’t and wouldn’t. I loved football but my family was there before I found it and would be there after it. They can both co-exist, I didn’t intend on losing either. He never did tell me if I answered it correctly, but he smiled and called it a day after.
The coaches all left, but not without Arsene asking one of the staff on duty to give us a tour of the Emirates. I was the fat kid in the candy shop that day. I have seen plenty of stadiums in my career, but that day was unique. It showed me what my future could be and how close I was to achieving it. I left the Emirates a different person; one determined to succeed.
I was convinced I’d be receiving a call from one of those teams any day now. I thought I had done enough at the try outs to guarantee myself a contract. Little did I know my journey to success would take a couple of detours before