Oh how joy can bring a million enduring smiles on a face that once had grief and sorrow in charge, due to lack of money birthed by loss of a job that triggered prolonged unemployment. Oh how the inflow of money, not just the inflow, but a constant one, can change a man’s taste. Oh how it can stop a man from wearing rickety shoes, and plunge him into wearing one of the best shoes in town, if not a world-class brand. Oh how it can dispose of a man’s rags and clad him in designers’ collections.
Money was beginning to flow in, and left Dale with no choice than to begin to look good, nice and sleek. With even a nice perfume telling every nose that cared to come close that Dale had it on. Dale was revealed at home, admiring the new suit and shoes he had put on. A bottle of EVA wine and a glass were on top of a table beside him. He soon stopped admiring his suit and shoes. He began to stare all around, as he grinned. His grin was followed by two slow nods that said it all. Dale was once again a happy man. Who could dare tell him it was wrong to associate with the rich and famous now?
“Oh…I can’t do without staying in this game,” said Dale, in a tone that exuded confidence. “I love my new job.” He picked up the bottle on the table and poured some wine into the glass. He cracked off a loud laughter. And with the bottle of wine back on top of the table, Dale was ready to give a toast, the glass now held up, after his thunderous laughter had died down. His words then came. “To this game that has changed my life. To it I will give my all.”
Dale laughed again. But his laughter was cut short this time by distraction that emanated from a ball that was bouncing on the ground with rising crescendo. Dale frowned and turned in the direction of the culprit, which actually was not the ball, but Rooney who was on his way out for training.
“Am I not entitled to some peace and quiet in here?” He vociferated, obviously getting angry.
“Of course, Daddy, you do,” Rooney’s response came, but did not mean he stopped bouncing the ball.
“That ball must cease to bounce now!” Dale’s voice was firm and full of fully grown anger that was enough statement to Rooney that his action had constituted enough nuisance. Rooney’s quick response was that he grabbed the ball, betraying some little fright that had crept into him. Then he went on to giggle, showing excitement.
“Coach said a scout from Everton football club will be watching us play today,’ he said.
“Is that why you’re excited?” The frown on Dale’s face was all gone by now.
“Chances are that I might be spotted for the Everton youth team.”
No sooner than Rooney had spoken that he began to bounce the ball on the ground again in excitement, all to Dale’s sudden huge irritation. Then a scream escaped Dale’s mouth.
“Save my eardrums, Rooney!” Rooney put an abrupt stop to bouncing the ball, and grabbed it once again.
“Sorry, Daddy, I got carried away,” he said with a smile that widened his face.
“Very good,” were Dale’s words together with two nods that signified his acceptance of Rooney’s quick apology. “But you’re not going to Merseyside,” he talked on.
“Everton is good.”
“No. You have to play for Manchester United.”
“I just want to play and play and play. I want to play for a Premiership side that shows interest in me.”
“That will be Manchester United. I want to see you become the next David Beckham there. Don’t you get it, son?”
“Fine, but Everton is also a good side. Liverpool football club is good too.”
Dale knew his son so well. Especially his passion for football, coupled with this intense penchant in him to argue in matters concerning the game. So Dale knew very well that an argument was coming. And he could not just afford the time, nerve or energy to stand Rooney. He thought it was best he avoided it.
“Alright,” he quickly said. “You win.” He went on to dismiss Rooney with a wave of his right hand. “Please yourself. Follow your heart, Rooney.” Rooney then left the room. He did not only leave with the ball, but something quite visible on his face, and even his eyes showed it. He left very excited, his face full of smiles. Dale looked at his watch after Rooney’s exit, and discovered that he was about to drift into being behind schedule, his eyes dilated, and his mouth suddenly agape. He found himself in haste the next second. Drinking the wine which the glass he had in his hand contained did not matter anymore. The glass had to be quickly kept on the table-top. Haste had now permeated Dale so much. He had to leave at once, as he couldn’t afford to be late in seeing Richard. If seeing Richard at the appointed time was a huge treasonable felony, Dale was more than ready to be guilty of it, time and time again.