Tilbake til nyheter
My son will be next Rooney
Dear a father,
I know You love Your son, I can see from Your eyes that You have great plans destined for him. I have seen You on Saturdays at games. He looks happy when You take him to watch a team You support. He is not necessarily a diehard fan but as You even before he was born wished for he learned to sing for the colours of Your team. He is definitely happy to be there with You, share that moment with You.
I have also seen You at youth team practises and in many trials. You are always first thing on the sidelines giving him instructions and telling him and coaches what to do. He looks at You after every situation and without complaining tries to do what You asked him for. I know You hoped him to be a bit better player but I can see You have decided if You work him hard and You get a better coach he must make it. What could be better than Your son playing for Your favourite team one day?
Excuse me for minding Your business but better would be Your son being happy. I haven’t seen him smile yet, he just seems confused, even scared. I can see those desperate glances to sidelines seeking for Your acceptance, You are his biggest hero after all. Have You ever asked or listened what he really wants? For me he doesn’t seem to play football, maybe he is just trying to make You happy or to avoid bollocking at home. His heart is not where Yours is. It almost looks like You are trying to live Your dreams through him. I know… Your son, Your upbringing, Your responsibility. But his life! No matter what You want, he will only end up being happy doing what he wants. Use Your privilege to influence him by encouraging him to find that. Being a parent is a responsibility You have to take for his good, not Yours. I’m sure You will be doing a good job as a father, I hope You and Your son all the best whatever You do in life.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I have to write to You after almost being bunched by someone’s dad who didn’t like my remarks about being a parent. Don’t worry, he wasn’t a big man. For me, a big man is someone who is there for others. Nobody can make their way on their own. My life, like every life, has been a series of ups and downs. You have always stood right beside me, supporting me in whatever has happened and whatever I have decided. You gave me a good upbringing and education, You didn’t demand anything else from me. You encouraged me to healthy way of living playing sports and clarinet but You still trusted my judgement to make my own choices. I should have probably told You I never got a sound out of that bloody instrument so I always sneaked out from the class to play football. I think You realised it anyway and quietly put me out of that misery by arranging football games simultaneously with those lessons.
What You did best was giving me an opportunity to do whatever I wanted. I’m now doing what I always wished for. I owe it to You and the way I was brought up. You always helped if I asked for. You drove me to training, threw me balls, even learned how to strap an ankle if I had an injury, You would have done anything for me. It is almost funny how much of interest You have always taken on things You don’t really understand at all. I find it hilarious listening You after games telling me how good I was, especially because You most of times have not actually seen them. But I guess it is Your right as my parents to be subjective. Without You I wouldn’t be here and whenever I enter the pitch, I still feel You are there with me.
I’m almost a grown up now but I still enjoy the most the occasions when we go to the park and You throw balls to me like we’ve done for last 28 years. I know You have never been there for football, You have been there for me. Thank You.
I know You still don’t understand that I get paid for kicking a round object, but I promise You it is considered a work here. I know You want me to stop this nonsense and get myself a decent and respectable job but I can assure You that I approach this like a decent and respectable job. It also makes me live honourable life away from the bad temptations and the evil bottle that You always warned me about. Plus we play on Saturdays so I’ve been able to go to church regularly on Sundays. My Dad tells me that You were concerned when I got cautioned in a game and You think I shouldn’t trip the opponent. Well Grandma, I’m afraid I sort of have to because I can’t play a clarinet. Hope You are well and please tell Grandpa to stop blaming himself: if a 98 year old can’t even remember where his teeth are so it is understandable that he forgets to check the scores sometimes.