I was racing down the motorway in the G wagon, this time with Agent Dad in the front seat and my brother Liam and mother Demelza in the back, watching something on the infotainment screens behind the front seats. It had been a long and hard-fought January, we played many games yet even with the new month we had no breaks, Ten Hag only let me abscond from training today because it's about my national team. We were to meet the Gaffer at a fancy restaurant in London and we were almost there, just around 15 miles to go.
"Hey Dad, can you check the table?"
"Sure son, gimme a second!"
1) Liverpool: 68
2) Man Utd: 64
3) Man City: 62
4) Newcastle Utd: 62
5) West Ham: 59...
Liverpool, despite having lost to us, were so far ahead that they didn't have to worry, but we were catching up, one more loss and their fate would be sealed, only if we kept winning, we had to focus on our gameplay. City drew with Arsenal surprisingly, it wasn't enough for Arsenal to move up back into the top 5 but it was enough for us and we were now two points ahead. Newcastle had a direct contention match with West Ham and won, 2-0, resulting in their climbing of the table, but they couldn't get past City thanks to goal difference.
While we discussed the situations in which we could win the premier league, we abruptly reached our destination. All four of us entered the restaurant, showing them the reservation and we were brought to a private room, where we met with the manager in question. The man we found had light brown hair, slightly hanging forwards, white skin, and dark eyes that kept on evaluating, upon our arrival, he stood up and shook hands with everyone, even my little brother.
"Hello Gareth, I'm sure you know this is Adri," introduced my father.
"Hello, Mr Southgate, how are ya?" I asked, shaking the man's hand once again.
"Please Adri, call me Gar, Garreth, gaffer, or whatever you want!"
"Alright Gaffer, you said we need to discuss, what shall we discuss?"
"A few things, but I've been told great things about you and I watched the Liverpool game on Sunday, you are a dynamic player."
"Thank you," I said humbly...
"Now, Adri, you will play in the center forward position alongside Harry Kane, Im sure you're excited, anyway, the points, Harry's more of a poacher, we want you to be that ball-playing striker that we need, the visionary, we have a numerous amount of numbers, the number 9, 7, 12, 17, 20, 25 are the most reasonable numbers that are free, I'm guessing you would like the number 7, am I right?"
"Yes Gaffer, what would the salary be like?"
"You will be paid per tournament, even if it's a qualifier, it will be counted as a tournament and you will be paid based on the difficulty and pressure of the match, anywhere from 20k to 100k per tournament, if we win, a million is up for grabs."
"I'm cool with all that gaffer, but I had some requests."
"What's up Adrian, you never mentioned these on the way here." questioned my dad.
"It's alright Dad, they are reasonable, will you listen Garreth?"
"Of course lad, go on!"
"I want to be the first choice for free kicks, I'm a good penalty taker, I want to ensure a goal by partaking in every important shootout, and my final request is for my brother's sake, I want him enrolled at the England youth academy, he's good, almost as good as me when I was 15, I would say he's around 75 rated now, what do you say?"
"I'm alright with all of that, they reasonable, but I might have to pull some strings for the free kick things, it's only cause you're so young, but I'm sure they'll come around when I show them that goal against Brighton and that one you scored when you were playing for Stoke, absolutely class, I'll see you then Adri, in a few months, hopefully for the Euros!"
"Thanks, Gaffer, have a good evening!"
"That's alright, welcome to the England national eleven, Adri!"
We went back out of the private room and had dinner together as a family, and between mouthfuls, my brother expressed his gratitude, "You're the best Adri!"
"That was real nice of you son," said our mother.
"You are growing into a fine young man Adri," said my father proudly...
I felt completely content as we drove to Stoke, I dropped my family off and began the journey to Manchester, it reached nightfall when I got back home and all I had time for was a quick nap and bedtime it was...
Training center, the next day...
"I can't say I'm not disappointed Adri, I wanted to win the World Cup with you," said Bruno.
"Nah, think about me, I thought you'd come to Brazil!" said Casi.
Rasmus chuckled as he jogged past, I had talked with him about the predicament I was in, and he sympathized.
"Hey, guys at least we're playing together, now chill, I'll beat your old asses nationally later..."
"Yeah in your dreams little Ronnie!" said Bruno.
"No way, Adri!" reaffirmed Casi.
"Haha, can we get back to practice now?"
"Yeah sure," they both said simultaneously.
We were practicing free kicks today against Tom Heaton, the new keeper who has joined the main team instead of Onana, who will be leaving in the summer transfer window, for £20 million, he was rubbish anyway, but Tom has improved massively:
Tom Heaton:
Pos: Keeper
OVR: 86
Div: 90
Han: 85
Kick: 93
Ref: 89
Pace: 79
Pos: 88
I took the opportunity to practice my elevator ball, and everyone was confused by the name, until they saw the shot, that's when they realized the clever naming style.
I ran up to the ball and kicked it high over the heads of the wall and for what seemed like forever, the ball seemed like it was going to go over the crossbar, until just before the crossbar, it dropped at break-neck speeds, towards, the ground, spinning all the way, Heaton didn't even know what to do as the ball landed on the goal line and just kept on spinning. Eventually, the last spin shot the ball from the floor into the top bins.
Silence engulfed the pitch before the team started shouting, "Hahaha that's our adri, little genius!"
<*Like the new front cover? Also, let's bring it home for England lads!*>
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