Road To Glory Short Story

Road to Glory “My dad Jones and I lived in a small apartment, located in a small alley in Manchester. I was coming home from school one day, feeling uneasy. The air had a serious scent to it. It was getting chilly outside and the clouds were getting darker. It felt like the silence before a thunderstorm. My dad came home furious from work and announced “Andrew, I didn’t make it.” He explained to me how he was rejected by Manchester United, because of the corrupt officials. My dad was a skilled and talented football star who had been playing football for the most part of his life. He was known as the “English prodigy” when he was 12 years old. He had tried all his life to make it to the big leagues but couldn’t because of the corrupt officials.

My prayers had been answered. I woke up before the sun that morning to get ready and go the stadium with my dad. Upon entering the Etihad Stadium I was left in awe, the beauty of the stadium could not be described in words. Rows of blue seats were spread throughout this huge arena. I could imagine thousands of people chanting my name as I walked onto the pitch. There, I was asked to do a couple of drills and play with their youth academy. After an hour they came up to me and asked me if I would be interested in playing for their youth academy on a full scholarship. This meant that we would not have to worry about money ever again. My father and I were filled with joy and excitement and we agreed to their offer. This was like a dream come true. I was going to play for the team whose rivals, Manchester United declined to give my dad a spot on their team. It did not take time me a long time to move up teams. After a year of hard work, persistence and motivation from my dad, Man City signed me on a 5-year contract to play for their A- team. All the newspapers read. “17-year-old prodigy signed by Man City”. I had trained day and night, came to practice before the others and left after them, and I was rewarded. Later that day, my dad took me out for drinks for the first time ever to celebrate. We took a seat at a substandard bar in Manchester. The tables were covered with a thin layer of dust and there were people in cheap apparel drinking cheap