Chapter 19
Austin
I was supposed to be thankful that I had any interest in my career from someone in the press. I kept telling myself that as
Malcolm followed me like a shadow.
But I was helping Isa by keeping him occupied and that did make this whole thing a little easier. I liked being able to pull
some of the weight from her shoulders.
The cloudy London sky hung over the redbrick facades and weathered stone buildings along the store-lined street in the West
End as we left the Farnham FC training facility. All of it looked the same as I’d left it a few years ago.
The iron railing along the steps to some of the shops just down the road stood proud but some small imperfections in the ironwork
showed their wear from the last few years. The concrete sidewalk on either side of the cobblestone streets had some new, noticeable
cracks.
“Have you been back to London since leaving Farnham FC?” Malcolm chattered on from a couple steps behind me, walking and jotting
things down.
We had gotten to the Farnham FC training facility early that morning and he’d been practically glued to my side since.
He asked questions ranging from where I grew up to my early career, and even made a couple attempts at questions about my personal life, all of which I steered like I was supposed to.
The only time he left was when I talked to the manager and current coaching staff privately. Since it was early July, preseason
training was underway, so a lot of the staff was busy preparing for the Premier League matches to start in five weeks.
“Nope,” I answered as I turned down the same street I used to walk down every day.
The one where Jo learned how to walk, unsteady but brave along the cobblestone. It had been the first time they’d all traveled
abroad as a family—three of them. Theo was doing great then. We’d all assumed he’d recover.
I glanced down at the messages that came in on my phone.
Jesse: Great idea taking Malcolm with you to Farnham
Jesse: Steer the conversation to coaching
I sighed. Jesse, while his heart was in the right place, had a one-track mind. I told Isa it was Jesse’s idea to bring Malcolm
because, honestly, it sounded like something Jesse would do. But I figured bringing him along would help her out and I sort
of liked doing that.
Me: I was going to talk about the foundation
Jesse: Do both
Meeting with my old team had gone better than expected, not that I was expecting it to go poorly, but I wasn’t sure how they’d
receive me since I didn’t provide much explanation, outside of wanting to go home, for why I didn’t extend my contract.
“But, if I coach here, then I’ll be back,” I answered as Malcolm and I walked down the street.
After the meetings, I had kicked the ball around with a few of the newer players, and if I hadn’t been sure my knee wasn’t
the same before, I was now. Playing against Premier League talent, even a few friendly drills, was as clear a sign as any
that it would be years of nonstop training to maybe get back in the condition I had been in when I played here.
Despite sounding negative, it was actually a warming realization. I didn’t want to play until I couldn’t; I wanted to play until I was ready to stop. And knowing I couldn’t play at the level I used to—it was starting to feel like
it was the right time to stop.
Malcolm nodded, scribbled a few more things in his thin notepad, and clicked his pen. He caught up the couple steps he was
behind. “How about a café?”
“I need to get something first,” I answered, walking toward the same bookstore I used to go to before I’d leave for my visits
to New York.
I needed a couple books for Jo, a tradition since the day she was born. I bought her books because I knew there wasn’t much I’d be qualified to teach that kid, but reading was one thing I knew I could.
“Lead the way,” he said cheerily.
The gloomy, Victorian-style bay window displayed stacks of new books. I walked past to the colorful section in the corner
with children’s books.
This trip had actually been a decent distraction, but an entire morning at my old club and a reporter asking a thousand questions
a minute was wearing on me.
“You think you’ll enjoy coaching?” Malcolm ventured, the bell on the shop door ringing as we walked in. “B team, I mean.”
Malcolm stated it like it was a well-known fact that I’d never get anything more than that. I knew.
“Gotta start somewhere.” I flipped through a couple books absentmindedly.
If ever I had trouble remaining humble, I had all of sports media to correct that. The American Footballer had lost a lot
of his sheen over the last few years.
“Why the abrupt move two years ago?”
“It wasn’t abrupt,” I defended, even though it was. My contract was up but nobody predicted I’d ever leave it, especially
not for the American league.
Malcolm scribbled more down. “The American that joined the relegated Champions League team, instrumental in getting them back
to the Premier League. Then becoming the champions of the Premier League a few years after that. Then, suddenly, you fell
off the map.”
It was the same question everyone asked. I just didn’t want to answer and, even now, it felt like a part of my life when I was going through the motions.
“Yeah . . .” I trailed off, looking through another table of age-appropriate books for Jo when something next to the cashier
counter caught my eye. I put the three books I had so far under my arm and walked to the cobalt-blue book.
“It didn’t make any sense,” Malcolm nudged, trying to get me to explain something I didn’t feel like getting into. “Especially
not when you shocked everyone by staying in the States.”
American soccer was still relatively new and nobody’s first choice, especially not a champion’s. Any American with talent
got scouted to play in other parts of the world. I was that kid, and my luck was meeting my best friend who stopped at nothing
to make sure I got a shot at something bigger.
“Everyone seems to think I dug my career’s grave that day. Why not let them?” I added.
After Theo got sick, for a couple years it had seemed like he was going to be fine. Then he’d gone from being perfectly normal
to frail in a matter of months. It wasn’t long after that that he was gone.
I had wanted to go home; I owed it to him to take care of what was left behind after all that he’d done for me. But walking
away from everything—that excuse would only invite more questions, so I didn’t give anyone an answer. I wasn’t ready to, and
frankly, it wasn’t anyone’s business.
“Was it for your girlfriend?” He kept his eyes down, only looking up occasionally when he wasn’t scribbling something down.
“Did she convince you to stay Stateside?”
“No, we hadn’t met yet. And let’s keep Isa out of this,” I added reflexively, not entirely sure what was going on between us.
There was something there, at least for me.
She didn’t want Blake anymore, but I didn’t really know what she wanted past that.
Isa was hard to read, and I wasn’t sure it was worth trying, since coaching would bring me back here.
She had her entire future mapped out on the other side of the ocean and this act would end in a few days.
I picked up the blue book with silver font.
I smiled, thought of Isa, and added it to the stack. “She’s a very private person.”
All I knew for sure about Isa were two things: she made her plans carefully and I wasn’t in them. She fabricated this charade
out of what was probably a little bit of desperation and a lot of pride. The last thing she needed was to have herself wrapped
up in my work after we’d dropped the act.
“And I wanted to go home. That’s why I left.” I answered his original question and walked to the register. I needed the same
thing I had needed from the second I got here—attention on the foundation. Once that was all zipped up and ready to go, and
I hadn’t left Theo’s legacy in shambles, I could move on. “It’s that simple. And the Mistry Foundation needed overseeing.”
“Started with your friend, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a great opportunity for young kids who enjoy the sport,” I explained. “If all of the great players go abroad,
then how can we build America’s football league?”
“There isn’t exactly infrastructure in an American league to keep talent,” Malcolm countered, stating the glaringly obvious.
“Not yet . . .” I said to myself, remembering my conversation with Wes.
Nothing was ever going to change unless someone changed it. Theo was sure that, one day, the Austin Cades of the world wouldn’t have to go overseas. Maybe because he missed his best friend when I left. But maybe because he had a solid vision.
“And that’s probably why everyone thinks I ended my career by going back,” I said louder to Malcolm, ending the explanation
exactly where I started it.
For now, I just needed to keep Theo’s legacy alive and maybe, if the foundation ever found another person to lead it like
Theo could have, it would grow.
I glanced at the time and realized that we should probably head back to the train station.
Malcolm’s brow furrowed and he scribbled more down. “How very honorable.”