“Really? Arsenal? Mate... I can’t even.” Gael said, though he smiled just a little while shaking his head. “Fucking hell, I can’t in good mind advocate that one. But some advice? Don’t play for the club you love most. That ruins it a bit- especially if you end up being some ‘star’.” Not that he needed to dump all that grief on Carlos.
“Come on, let’s just get this practice over with.” He said, moving back toward Keegan and Micheal with a slightly calmer attitude about him. He even made his apologies, and Keegan seemed to accept them, albeit begrudgingly. By the end of the day, though, the other boy was peppering him with questions about how he even got to play with Chelsea at such a young age.
“Seriously?” Keegan asked as they finished changing and grabbed their bags. “My mom wouldn’t let me join a club across town let alone another country at 14.”
“Well,” Geal started, shrugging just a little. “Doubt they would have if my grandparents hadn’t lived in London. My parents had a bit of a row over it. Sort of why...this happened.” He waved his hand a little, as if to indicate the whole situation was the result of parental bickering. “World War Three might have broken out in my parents’ home if I’d gone with England. Or France. Definitely if I’d gone with France.”
“Wait... you could have played for France?”
Gael wasn’t sure if Keegan was annoyed or awed by his tone, and opted to just sort of shrug. “Technically, but it wasn’t likely. They’ve got better strikers than me already, and besides...never really wanted to play for them. Grew up watching Chelsea, England and the US though.”
“Man, some people just got all the fucking luck.” Keegan said with a slight grumble as he moved ahead of Gael then, leaving the striker to just sort of stare ahead. Yeah, he supposed, he had some of that.
“Don’t think it has occurred to him, yet, that when he retires he’ll at least have a degree already.” Gael said after a moment, causing Micheal to snort a little in agreement.
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“Come on, let’s just get this practice over with.” He said, moving back toward Keegan and Micheal with a slightly calmer attitude about him. He even made his apologies, and Keegan seemed to accept them, albeit begrudgingly. By the end of the day, though, the other boy was peppering him with questions about how he even got to play with Chelsea at such a young age.
“Seriously?” Keegan asked as they finished changing and grabbed their bags. “My mom wouldn’t let me join a club across town let alone another country at 14.”
“Well,” Geal started, shrugging just a little. “Doubt they would have if my grandparents hadn’t lived in London. My parents had a bit of a row over it. Sort of why...this happened.” He waved his hand a little, as if to indicate the whole situation was the result of parental bickering. “World War Three might have broken out in my parents’ home if I’d gone with England. Or France. Definitely if I’d gone with France.”
“Wait... you could have played for France?”
Gael wasn’t sure if Keegan was annoyed or awed by his tone, and opted to just sort of shrug. “Technically, but it wasn’t likely. They’ve got better strikers than me already, and besides...never really wanted to play for them. Grew up watching Chelsea, England and the US though.”
“Man, some people just got all the fucking luck.” Keegan said with a slight grumble as he moved ahead of Gael then, leaving the striker to just sort of stare ahead. Yeah, he supposed, he had some of that.
“Don’t think it has occurred to him, yet, that when he retires he’ll at least have a degree already.” Gael said after a moment, causing Micheal to snort a little in agreement.