The Scout or Welcome to South Bermondsey - стр. 3

"So, what do you want to know?"

"Me?" he laughed. "Don't spin things around! What do you want me to write about him?"

Oh, these journalists. They understand everything. I smiled.

"Write that he's nineteen years old. That he is very fond of children and his mother. That he has a brother in Montpellier, and then of course add that he's the new Gareth Bale."

"A little dark for a Welshman. No? Where did you get him from?"

"He was in Ajax, on the second team. However it’s true, he spent last year on loan in Belgium, in Mouscron."

"Does he even speak English?"

"Well, he can say a few words. But for a full-fledged interview, it would be better to get a French translator."

"He’s as far away from a full-fledged interview, as you are from the Premier League."

These journalists are really able to besiege one of course, nothing to say there. They know their own worth.

"Okay Sean," I shook his hand, "if you write a few decent lines about my ward you know what's coming from me."

"Noted!" He said and sauntered into the press-conference room.

During the press-conference itself, as usual the questions were about tactics, plans for the end of the season, refereeing, and so on. Only one of the reporters, a simple-looking bloke from some small newspaper, finally asked the old man what he thought about the new winger.

"It's too early to draw conclusions. He wasn't bad today. We'll be watching him during the next few games," which was all you could expect from old man Harris.

I did not get home right away that night. In the parking lot, as I sat down to warm up my old Range Rover, Johnny Martin came up to the car.

"Hey, Alex! Want to go missing for a little while?"

"Why aren't you with our people?" I was surprised, because usually Johnny would not miss an occasion to celebrate our success with the blokes, especially since this season we didn’t have enough special successes, only once or twice.

"Balls to them!" Johnny laughed. "We have a cup match this Tuesday, you know. That means that the victory will be celebrated in old non-alcoholic beer style. I'm a little old for that, you know. I want to get pissed."

"I am not promising that you will get plastered, but maybe a little tipsy. We’re just too close to home."

"I’ll leave my car here, then. We’ll take yours."

"Hop in then."

We then took off and then left my car at my place.

"Hell, Alex, I've always envied you," Johnny admitted. "If the old folks had left me a house like this," he gestured respectfully at the front of my house on Court-Road, "I'd be fucking sitting in our club."