A Tale of Two Brothers

Authors note:

Hi to all and welcome to my second story on FMS. If you're only just about to start reading this story now, you have a nice chunk of catching up to do - but it will be worth it you won't have to wait for me to update the story until you catch up which is a bonus. Thanks for taking the time to have a look, it's appreciated and I really hope you enjoy the read

Offspring

Extra's:

Played with England (Blue Square North/South and above), France (Ligue 2 and above), Germany (Second Division and above), Italy (Serie C1 and above), Holland (Eredivisie only), Scotland (First Division and above) and Spain (Liga Adelante and above).

None of the randomly generated characters in my story are based on real people and all personalities of actual people are manipulated to an extent to fit the story line.

WARNING: Some references to violence and drugs throughout the story. If anybody has any problems with the content, please mail me and we'll get it sorted

July 28th 1992

Jennie examined the bruises on her arms. She’d covered them up for a few days now, and they were beginning to settle down again to her relief. The only person that knew of the bruises was Rachel, as she had been present while Jennie had received her latest beating.

Rachel, Jennies’ possibly-future-sister-in-law, was lucky to get away without a mark and she knew all too well that to stop her brother, Andrew, from attacking his target was to become a target yourself and she avoided that at all costs. For the safety of her own young son and herself, she avoided Andrew whenever possible.

For a short while, Andrew had stopped hitting his girlfriend. That was when he first found out that Jennie was carrying his child and that kept him away from the alcohol for a little while. Things went well and a little bit of joy had sprung up within the household at the thought of the dominant male becoming a father.

When Andrew wasn’t drunk, Jennie was reminded of how she had fallen in love with the young man. When he was sober, he was funny, kind and a brilliant person to be around. However, once the news had become old, the alcohol came back and that was quickly followed by the beatings.

Nobody in the house dared to stand up to Andrew when he was drunk. Rachel had been unlucky a few times, running into her brother during such times which resulted in him aiming a slap in her direction - most of the time that would be the end of it. But sometimes, the blows never seemed to stop – and when they did, all that followed was aches and pains for days on end.

As for Andrew’s other sister Colene, she was always offered protection by Andrew. Maybe it was because Colene was the youngest child, nobody knew the reason, but Andrew never raised a finger to Colene. When Jennie first noticed it, she had hoped that it was a sign of better things to come and that Andrew had finally latched on to how much of a coward it took to hit a woman. How wrong she was.

Tim and Eric were twins. Even though they were a few years younger than Andrew, who was 22, they watched each other’s backs and this kept Andrew at bay. Even though they had enough between them to stop their older brother attacking them, they would never dream of facing up to him themselves.

Even Andrew’s dad, Charlie avoided his son when he could. Andrew had grown bigger than everyone because of his work on a building site and was physically superior to your average bloke. Nobody tried heroics against the eldest son.

The twins were out of the house and everybody else was in their bedrooms with their doors locked, awaiting the return of Andrew from the pub - everyone apart from Jennie. Nobody would let Jennie take shelter in their room, knowing that to be near Jennie was to attract the flying fists of Andrew. For this reason, Jennie had locked herself in the bathroom.

Shaking slightly, Jennie looked at her watch. It was almost 11pm and Andrew was still not home, though he couldn’t be far away, Jennie thought.

Jennie sat down on the edge of the bath and looked around at the room she had been forced to hide in. She looked at the cracked mirror, recalling the time when her drunken boyfriend had lost his razor and hit the small mirror in frustration, before clambering across the hallway and blaming it on Jennie.

Jennie shuddered at the memory and peeled her eyes away from the cracked mirror. Her eyes then came across some of the cracked, dirty bathroom tiles on the floor and she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek. If she told her dad and brothers what was happening to her, she knew they would come and save her. Jennie couldn’t tell anybody though, fearing that the retribution from Andrew would be swift and terrible.

Another reason why Jennie didn’t want to leave was because that would leave Rachel to ride out the storm of Andrew. Jennie and Rachel both had a mutual respect for each other and Jennie didn’t want to let her down.

Jennie could hear Dale, Rachel’s baby, screaming from across the hallway. She knew that Rachel would be frantically trying to get her child to be quiet and avoid the attention of a drunken Andrew and she sent prayers in hope of silencing Dale.

After a few minutes, Dale seemed to be silent again to Jennie’s relief. She put a hand on her tummy, imagining herself trying to nurse her own baby to sleep in a year’s time.

Jennie’s thoughts were then interrupted by the opening of a door and somebody quickly strolling down the hallway towards the bathroom door. Jennie knew it had to be Rachel coming to warn her that Andrew was walking down the street and she wiped away her tears and forced herself to look calm and collected.

Even though she knew who it was, Jennie still opened the bathroom door cautiously, peering around the side of the door to look at the tired figure of Rachel. She had bags under her eyes and her dark hair was flat and greasy.

“He’s coming again, I saw him walking down the street from my window,” murmured Rachel, looking down at the floor.

Jennie could sense that her friend felt guilty. Rachel knew that Jennie remained at the house partly to protect her and she was eternally grateful. Jennie reached out a hand and touched Rachel on the arm, causing Rachel to look up at her friend.

“Don’t worry, Rachel. I’ll be ok, you go and watch little Dale. I can look after myself.”

Jennie held her chin up as she spoke, trying to give Rachel strength from her words. Rachel smiled and touched her friends’ hand before quickly scuttling back to her room. Jennie then quickly shut the door and pulled the lock across, hoping it would hold well against her drunken boyfriend.

Just as Jennie sat back down on the edge of the bath, she heard the front door open and she began to shake uncontrollably. Her palms began to sweat and she started breathing a little quicker along with the beating of her heart which felt as if it was trying to jump from her chest.

Jennie could hear the thud of feet climbing the stairs towards her and she began to look around the room hoping that a hole would somehow appear in the wall so that she could escape through it.

“Jennie! Where you hiding, you little sl*g? Come out n’ give me a kiss,” called that unmistakeable voice.

Jennie closed her eyes and dug up some childhood memories. She thought about her parents – especially her dad, Clive. Jennie was a daddy’s girl and always had been. She then thought about her sister and her three brothers and remembered going to the park with them on sunny days ---

Thud – Thud

Jennie was snapped out of her memories by the banging at the bathroom door. She looked towards it, willing it to become a titanium door and keep her own personal monster at bay. The titanium door never materialised and Jennie felt fresh tears gather.

“You in there? Come out you silly b*tch, I ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

Jennie ignored the voice hoping that he would get bored and stumble back downstairs. That wasn’t to be though, and the thudding at the door got louder.

“Come out here you coward! I just wanna see my pregnant girlfriend, you can’t stop me just with a door!” roared Andrew, punching the door in the process. Jennie shut her eyes, kept quiet and started to bite her nails.

“Fine, I’m coming to get you, you’ll be sorry.”

Andrew hammered the bathroom door with his shoulder causing the wooden door to creak.

CRACK

Jennie heard the lock bounce on the tiles and could smell the alcohol creep in as her boyfriend entered the room. She looked up at Andrew, stood there, triumphant and menacing.

Jennie looked down at his fists. They were clenched tightly and one was being drawn back as she looked on in terror. Somehow, she had to get away from this place.

April 28th 1993

Jennie looked down at her baby and smiled. For the first time in what seemed like an age, she truly felt happy. Jennie knelt down to the buggy that her child was sat in and her smile grew even bigger.

“We’re gonna get out of here soon, Colin. Don’t you worry, my handsome young son,” said Jennie, touching her son’s soft cheek as she spoke in the way that all adults seemed to talk to young children, even though they couldn’t understand what you were saying no matter which tone or accent you used. Colin simply babbled in reply and stared at his mother.

“Granddad Clive is coming to save us. He’s coming with Uncle Philip, Uncle Michael and Uncle Paul and they’re going to take us away from this place.”

Jennie knew her young son, Colin, couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but that didn’t matter. The fact was that while Andrew was out at the pub, Jennie’s dad and her brothers were coming to save her and she was bubbling with happiness.

Just as Jennie was dreaming about her ride out of hell, Colene stepped into the room. The 16 year old girl looked from Jennie, to her son and then at her packed suitcase.

Jennie looked up at Colene with pleading eyes, knowing that her escape from this place was now in danger of being exposed. As Colene met Jennie’s eyes, a sly smile crept across the face of the teenage girl.

“Just where do you think you’re going, you little slapper?” asked Colene with an air of arrogance, knowing that she had control of the situation.

Colene was a skinny girl and Jennie could easily brush her aside, but she knew that Andrew would hunt her down if she even made an attempt at doing so. Instead, Jennie tried to win the teenage girl over.

“Please, Colene! I need to get away! For the life of your nephew, don’t tell Andrew anything, I’m begging you,” pleaded Jennie. As she spoke, Jennie felt that familiar wetness at the edges of her eyes. She was almost in tears, knowing that she might not get away after all.

Colene let out a small laugh before charging towards the front door.

“No, please!!” shouted Jennie, attempting to get up and grab the teenager before she could get out of the door.

Jennie was too slow and the skinny girl got out of the door and sprinted in the direction of the pub where Andrew would be drinking. Jennie knew she didn’t have much time so she picked up her suitcase and took it outside before dropping it on the pavement.

When Jennie trotted back inside the house to get her son, Colin, she saw Rachel stood on the stairs with her own son, Dale, in her arms. Rachel walked to the bottom of the stairs, setting her child down on the floor and then embraced Jennie.

“I hope you get away, Jen. You deserve better than this,” said Rachel.

“Thank you. I don’t want to leave you though Rachel. Come with us – you and Dale – come with me and Colin?”

Rachel shook her head and tears fell from her eyes. This was Rachel’s home, she had nowhere else to go. Even if she wanted too, she couldn’t because her dad’s car was too small to fit all of them in.

“I can’t, Jen, I’ll be ok don’t you worry. Dale and I will look after each other and we’ll be fine.”

The two women stroked tears from their eyes again. As Jennie walked back to the front room to push her son outside, Colene came bursting through the front door again, red in the face and eyes as wide as golf balls. This, accompanied with the goony smile on the spotted teenage face told Jennie that she didn’t have much time to get away.

“He’s coming, Jen! He’s not going to let you run away with his son!” popped Colene.

Then, as the teenage girl looked around to Rachel with a huge smile still on her face, Rachel thumped her, sending her head rolling backwards as well as knocking the proud girl to the floor. Jennie had to smile at the courage of her friend because they both knew that Andrew would make her pay for it.

“You scheming little cow - Maybe one day you’ll develop a conscience!” steamed Rachel.

The girl on the floor was holding her nose and blood was beginning to cover her hand. Rachel would pay for what she had done, but nothing that Andrew could do would take this moment away. The scheming teenager had been put firmly in her place and had been reminded that she was no more than a child.

“What are you waiting for? Get out there!” said Rachel, pointing out of the front door and towards the road.

Without a second thought, Jennie lifted her child from the buggy and ran through the door towards her suitcase. There was still no sign of her dad or her brothers. Where were they?

Then, Andrew appeared at the end of the street, charging around the corner and towards the mother and child. Jennie could see Andrew’s anger and she began to despair. She held her child close to her chest and closed her eyes, praying that her dad and brothers would ride in and save her.

This is a terrificly written piece on what is a difficult subject. Well done Offspring.

Oh wow.

Compelling.

Thanks for the comments, Gav and Ben my time on this forum has really improved my writing and I'm enjoying it more now - just as I hope others are

This proved to be Jennie’s great escape though as just at that moment, a small green car flew around the corner and sped towards Jennie.

As quickly as it had appeared, the car stopped by her side and Jennie’s three brothers stepped out, quickly followed by her dad, Clive. As Paul, the smallest of the three brothers, picked up his sister’s suitcase and put it in the boot the other three men stood in front of Jennie, facing the raging Andrew.

Jennie wasted no time, quickly opening one of the back doors of the car and diving in with her child, crying with joy that she had been saved. She sat her son on her lap and held him closer to her than she had ever done before, not daring to release her hold until Andrew was out of sight.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going with my son?!?” raged Andrew, slowing to a walk when he was around 15 yards from Clive.

Clive knew what he wanted to do and turned to his three sons at his side.

“Michael and Paul, you go and sit in the car, each of you on either side of your sister. Phil; you stay here.”

Each of the men nodded and followed their father’s wishes. While they done this, Clive began to stride towards Andrew. Clive was in his early 50’s but he didn’t care. No man ever raises their hand to his daughter. Ever.

As Andrew saw the older man come striding towards him, he stopped in his tracks, unsure of what to do. Andrew couldn’t even remember the last time somebody stood up to him and this had taken him by surprise.

No sooner had Clive been in range than he had swung his first punch. Andrew easily dodged that effort, but Clive hadn’t expected to hit him – it was his left hand and Clive was no southpaw. Clive then grabbed Andrew’s t-shirt with his left hand and hammered the younger man in the face with his right hand.

Clive landed two hard punches before Andrew was on the floor and Clive wasn’t ready to stop yet. He picked the young builder up off of the floor and slammed him into a nearby fence, cracking another punch into the head of the younger man as he rebounded back towards him.

As Andrew fell to his knees, Clive felt an arm around his chest. He spun round and grabbed the person who had been foolish enough to try and stop him, only to find it was Phillip. That was why he’d kept Phillip out of the car in the first place. Clive knew that once he got going, he wouldn’t stop until he was forced to and that was Phillip’s job.

Clive shrugged his son’s hands off of him and walked back towards the car with his fists still clenched and anger still pulsing through his body.

Clive took his seat in the car again while Phillip turned to Andrew and pushed him back against the fence that he had just been slammed in to. Although Andrew was well built, Phillip was a big lad as well and he knew how to use his weight to his advantage.

“If you ever come near our family again, scum, we’ll rip you to pieces. And I mean that,” said Phillip, looking the bloodied man in his remaining open eye. As Phillip stared into those beady eyes, he imagined this excuse of a man hitting his little sister.

The images ran through Phillip’s mind and eventually he hit Andrew in the face, sending his bloody head rocking back and cracking into the wooden fence that Phillip had him held against. Phillip let go of Andrew’s stained t-shirt and the young man sank to his knees, spitting out blood as he did so.

Phillip walked back to the car and sat in the passenger seat. He looked back at his younger sister and she was crying. Michael had his arm around Jennie, comforting his younger sister. Throughout all of this, little Colin sat unaware of the things going on around him.

“It’s ok, he’s not coming anywhere near you ever again, I swear,” said Clive, trying to reassure his daughter. They were now in Clive’s flat, trying to get Jennie to eat after the rough day she’d had.

Colin wasn’t struggling with food at all as he chewed through every bit of it that was put in front of him, throwing the pieces he didn’t like and sometimes dribbling the food if he’d shovelled too much into his mouth.

Outside, the streets of Barton began to fill with teenagers going to unknown places in large groups. One of these teenagers was Colene Smith. She made her way to the flat of Clive Houghton, holding a brick in her right hand which she intended to throw at the small green car that she had seen earlier that day.

After Andrew had been beaten and cleaned himself up, Colene told him the story of how Rachel helped Jennie get away. Although Andrew didn’t have the strength to hit Rachel himself, he’d held her down while Colene attacked her. That still hadn’t got rid of the fury inside her and she now sought revenge.

February 26th 1997

Colin kicked the small foam ball towards his younger brother, Robert and cheered loudly as the small ball rolled past Robert, going red in the face with excitement.

Colin went to his granddad, Clive and was lifted into the air as Clive cheered with his grandson.Two year old Robert giggled at his brother being raised so high in the air before going after the ball himself.

Liam, Jennie’s boyfriend then walked into the front room and dribbled the ball past Robert, teasing his young son before eventually letting Robert tackle him to the youngster’s delight, causing his face to go red with excitement and eventually leading to him charging towards his granddad and being raised into the air.

“Liam, I scored past Robert!!” shouted Colin after his granddad had set him down to pick up his younger brother, still excited at what he’d done.

“Did you? Well done, mate!” said Liam with a big smile across his face. It was hard not to smile when you see a child who was almost four so excited at something so small.

Even though Colin wasn’t Liam’s biological child, he still treated him the same as he treated Robert. That’s how Colin got in to football. Liam was an avid Oxford United fan and always went to their games; sometimes taking both of his sons to watch as well. The boys would usually only watch the first half and then they would get bored, wanting to play football themselves.

Just as Liam was recalling memories of the games at Oxford, he heard a car outside. He looked out of the window and his heart sunk. Andrew Smith got out of the car, followed by two of his ‘friends’ and began to walk towards the flat.

“It’s them, Clive. You should call Paul and Phil, we’ll need them. I’ll go to the door.”

As Clive reached for the phone, Liam walked to the front door, opening it and standing in the doorway as the three men stepped towards him menacingly. ‘No matter what happens, I’m not moving from this doorway’ Liam thought to himself, knowing that things were probably about to get violent. Although Liam was only a cab driver, at 29 years of age he was still fairly well built and kept himself in good shape, playing football for a local pub team. Even so, he would be no match for three grown men.

This is a great story

Amazing stuff, I really look forward to following this.

Cheers for the praise it's really nice to know that people enjoy and appreciate your work, so many thanks to both of you, Strawberry Field and Sean

“I’m here for my boy, now move out of my way. Things don’t have to get violent if you just give me what I want. If not, we’ll kick the sh*t into you and I mean that, so think,” called Andrew as he smirked at Liam.

“He doesn’t want to see you, Andrew. Especially not while you’re pis*ed so go away, sober up and come back alone, and we’ll see if we can arrange something,” replied Liam, attempting to buy himself some time for Paul and Phillip to arrive and back him up.

“Has Colin actually said that to you or are you just making things up? In fact, don’t answer that ‘cause no matter what the answer is, I’m taking my son out today.”

“Where exactly would you take him, Andrew? To the pub? To one of your mate’s houses? He doesn’t want to go anywhere with you while you’re drunk so go away.”

Andrew simply laughed and took a few more steps closer to Liam. He was now only three paces from the doorway and Liam could smell the alcohol on the man, but he still didn’t back down. Liam wouldn’t let a drunkard take his son out.

“Where’s my friend, Clive?” said Andrew, smiling still. The builder still had a scar just below his eyebrow from when Clive had got at him a few years ago but Andrew was bigger now. Since he’d been humiliated, he’d taken to the gym with the determination of a Trojan. If only he could channel that determination in to getting off of his alcohol addiction.

As Clive heard Andrew’s words, he walked to the front door and met Andrew’s eye’s, holding the stare and showing that he wasn’t afraid to take the builder on again. Even though Andrew was physically the biggest man there, Clive wouldn’t let the rat get to his family no matter how strong Andrew got. Clive’s protection for his family would be bigger than Andrew’s muscles could ever be.

“You heard the lad, Andrew. Get out of here before there’s trouble. I swear to you, you won’t get to Colin.”

Andrew seemed to snap as Clive spoke and he coloured in the face, showing he hadn’t forgotten what Clive had done to him a few years ago.

“Clive, if you don’t get back to that room with my boy, I will put a brick through every one of your windows until I find which room my boy is in, and climb through and take him myself,” threatened Andrew.

“Don’t worry; they won’t get past me without a fight. You go back and look after the lads,” said Liam, turning to Clive. Grudgingly, Clive backed away and walked back to his two grandsons. He led them both to their bedroom and put them as far from the door as he could before bolting it shut.

“So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?” said Andrew, tilting his head to the side. Liam simply nodded. Andrew stepped towards the man stood in his way and grabbed him, attempting to pull him out of the doorway.

As soon as Andrew’s hands touched him, Liam jabbed a punch at his attackers head, causing the drunk man to fall to the floor. Liam held both of his clenched fists in front of him in a boxer’s stance and looked at each of the men facing him.

Andrew got back to his feet and turned to his two friends.

“Take him down and beat the sh*t out of the fuc*er. Then, we’re going in and getting my son.”

Once Andrew finished, one of his friends charged at Liam, taking him to the floor with a rugby tackle. The other friend then pounced on top and began laying in to Liam, hitting him with all his might.

Liam head butted one of the men and managed to free himself for a second before Andrew jumped on him. Andrew went mad and threw a flurry of unstoppable punches at Liam’s face, bloodying his short, dark hair and leaving the cab driver limp and groaning. Andrew then stood up and kicked Liam in the gut as he writhed around on the floor before spitting on him.

Andrew looked at his two accomplices and all of the men walked through the doorway in to the flat, searching each room until they found the locked one. When they found the locked room, Andrew went back to his car and brought out a baseball bat before using it on the locked door to force it open.

Andrew stalked through the door and looked at Clive who was stood in front of the two children, hid down the side of the bed but still poking their heads over the top to see what was happening. Andrew approached Clive, smiling at the fear he’d instilled as he saw Clive look at Liam’s blood all over Andrew’s hands.

Andrew slowly placed his bloody hands on the side of Clive’s head before leaning in and kissing the older man on the forehead and laughing loudly to himself.

“Remember this, Clive; I love you,” laughed Andrew before pushing Clive to the floor and grabbing his son to walk out. Andrew made it to the door before Clive came after them with the baseball bat that Andrew had left in the flat.

“Remember this, Andrew; your son doesn’t love you!”

Andrew placed his son on the floor and turned around to face the older man who was holding the baseball bat with more than a small hint of know-how. Just as Andrew stepped towards Clive, he felt small punches pattering on his leg.

“Leave grampy and my dad alone!” screamed Colin with tears running down his face.

Andrew looked down at his son, fuming that he had called Liam his ‘dad’. He grabbed the child by his small, green shirt and got right up close to Colin’s face, pointing his finger at the young boy.

“I am your dad, not him. You like me more-“

Andrew was cut off mid sentence as Clive crashed the baseball bat down onto his shoulder and sent him sprawling. Andrew screamed in pain and his upper shoulder seemed loose. Just as Andrew’s two friends ran towards Clive, a car screeched up and Paul and Phillip emerged, running to their dad’s aid. The two men backed off and pulled Andrew to his feet.

While Andrew was being pulled up, police sirens could be heard in the distance. The three men paused for a second before charging back to the car and screeching off without a second look.

Clive turned to his grandson and scooped him up, walking inside as Paul and Phillip went to help Liam into the car to take him to the hospital.

3rd June 2004

Jennie pushed the clutch down, pulled the gear stick into 3rd gear and looked at the boy sat happily at her side. At that moment, Jennie almost exploded into tears and her heart fell to pieces for her eldest son. To stop herself from crying, Jennie switched the radio on. The silence between the two was uneasy and she couldn’t wait to get home.

Colin watched as his mother turned the radio on. He could tell that something was wrong and began wondering what it could have been. When the headmaster had come in to the class room and called Colin out, he knew that something was wrong.

At first, Colin had thought that he was going to be told off for something he had done at school. Then he saw the look in the eyes of his headmaster and Colin saw something which he hadn’t seen before in the strict headmaster. With Colin being a fairly troublesome kid, he’d never gotten along with the man and neither of them liked the other but something in the eyes of the headmaster told Colin that the man felt sorry for the boy he looked at.

It was then that Colin felt a note of worry strike inside him. Immediately, he thought that something had happened to his mum and he looked around franticly. Jennie finally appeared in the office and Colin didn’t feel comforted by his mother’s presence. The look on his mothers face only worsened his fears and that note of worry was struck again – but louder this time.

“Colin, you will be going and staying at home for the rest of the day. Have you gathered your things?” the headmaster had said. The words ‘going and staying home for the rest of the day’ had confirmed to Colin that bad news was on the horizon, even though he couldn’t yet make out the exact features of this news.

The car pulled up at their council house and still the mother and child had said nothing of great importance to each other. Jennie’s hand shook as she placed the key in the old lock but Colin was unsure as to whether the shaking was because of some kind of nervousness or because the door’s lock was jammed again.

Jennie led her son through to the kitchen and softly put her car keys down on the kitchen side before turning to the kettle and flipping the switch. As the kettle boiled, Jennie sat at the small dinner table and Colin sat opposite.

“Colin...,” Jennie started. Before she could continue, Jennie felt a tear form at the corner of her eye and quickly reached for some tissue to wipe it away. Colin looked on and all of the members of his family flashed into his mind. This could only mean bad news.

As Colin's mind flashed from subject to subject trying to figure out what his mother was about to say, the kettle grew louder and steam pulled away from it, funnelling towards the ceiling in the background.

Absolutely brilliant. It's a very tough subject to deal with (as gav has said) and you've pulled it off so easily.

It's a story I'll be certainly following. Keep this up.

This is amazing, so enthralling and well written. The handling of the subject matter is astounding too.

Cracking story Offspring8, I am not one for stories with little football in but this one has me hooked. A sensitive subject matter dealt with superbly. I wll be following this one.

Thanks for your praise, gentlemen I'm honoured to recieve any praise at all and comments like that make me want to continue and improve my writing even more, many thanks again

“I’m not quite sure how to tell you... earlier this morning, Andrew was rushed into hospital. He was very ill and no matter what the doctors tried to do, they just couldn’t make him any better,” said Jennie, breaking off again to wipe away another tear as the kettle continued to bubble on ferociously. “He’d had so much alcohol that his body just couldn’t cope anymore and it gave up on him. The doctors tried...”

The kettle reached its climax and the switch flipped off. Colin just stared down at the wooden table and his mother’s voice trailed off to somewhere far away. He felt ill but couldn’t move – Colin just wanted to sit there and do nothing.

Jennie stood up and walked to her son, putting both her arms around him and resting he head on his. Tears fell from her but they weren’t for Andrew; they were for the son that he had left behind. Colin didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t asked to be born into this world just to be let down by the man that should have been the central figure of his life. Jennie clung to her son and began to rock him in her arms.

Jennie herself was unsure of how to react in front of her son. Inside, she felt that she could just soar into the sky simply because of how happy she was to be freed from the monstrous claws of Andrew. But at the same time, she felt guilty. At a time like this, Jennie knew that her son should be first in her thoughts and buried her own relief deep into the mists of her mind.

Colin swayed from side to side and he began to dig up the few, good memories that he had of his dad. Then, as Colin realised that he would never see his father ever again, he burst into silent tears. His mother was sobbing aloud but Colin forced himself to stay quiet. So many questions ran through Colin’s head and he felt that it was unfair that his father had left so many of them unanswered:

Why did he get violent so often? Did he really love his only son? Did he care more about alcohol than he did about his child? If not, then why did he choose the stuff over Colin?

Colin felt rage begin to build up inside him and he wanted to be left alone. He opened his mouth but couldn’t say a word. Instead of resisting, Colin just shut his mouth again and closed his eyes. ‘This is all just a bad dream,’ Colin told himself. If only.

17th September 2005

Colin took control of the ball in the centre of the field and trotted forward with it. He looked up, trying to find one of his strikers moving for the ball but both of them had their back’s to goal and wanted the ball directly in to their feet, and that wasn’t what Colin wanted to give.

He knew that his younger brother, Robert, would be bursting down the right hand side any minute now like he had always done. The sound of heavy feat came to Colin’s ears as he moved the ball forward and he knew he didn’t have much time left before a challenge was put in against him. Then, bang on cue, he saw a small figure dart past down the right wing, wowing everyone with his pace. Without think twice, Colin threaded a pass to where he knew his brother would be and continued to run forward in to space.

A few people watching the under-14’s match applauded as the ball rolled in front of Robert as the 11 year old touched it further in front of him. Robert looked up into the box to see who was waiting but he didn’t have time to swing a cross in because he saw someone coming in to challenge him. Robert pulled the ball back and across to his left foot and cursed, wishing he could use his weaker foot better.

Despite not being terribly good with his left foot, Robert attempted to put the ball in to the area, hoping that someone would get on the end of it because he hadn’t really aimed it at all.

The Ardington defence made a hash of the clearance and the ball rolled out to Colin, who was waiting just inside the area. With one defender tugging at his emerald green and white hooped shirt, Colin calmly rolled the ball into one of the corners of the net and wheeled towards his brother in celebration.

The two brothers clapped hands and were soon joined by the rest of the Kiddlington Under-14’s team. Even though Colin was only 12 and Robert, 11, they were still considered first team members of the under 14’s squad. Colin filled the central midfield role whereas his younger, faster brother took up the right hand side of midfield.

Liam applauded his son’s for the goal. He knew Robert hated using his left foot but in all fairness it was a dangerous cross and Colin had put himself in a good position.

Nothing pleased Liam more than to see Colin smile. The boy had had it rough for the last year or so. Andrew had died because of the amount of alcohol in his system and even though Andrew was hardly Colin’s favourite person in the world, he was still his dad and it still hurt the boy tremendously. The football pitch was where his boy’s were happiest.

Liam returned home with his two sons and they were met immediately by the smell of lasagne. Colin and Robert raced upstairs to get into the shower and Liam walked into the front room to greet his two young daughters, Trisha and Michelle. Trisha, 8, ran to her dad and gave him a great hug and she was quickly followed by Michelle who was 4.

After having a quick talk with his daughter’s, they went to watch TV again and Liam walked through to the kitchen to greet his wife, Jennie. Jennie walked towards her husband and put her arms around him, smiling as the couple kissed each other lightly.

“How did our boys do today then?” asked Jennie.

“They done well. Colin grabbed himself a goal and an assist so he was happy with himself. Robert got two assists today as well – and he also insists that he set up Colin’s goal so he’s happy as well. In the end, we won 6-2.”

Liam explained how Colin’s goal came about and why Robert wanted to claim the assist as his own as his wife poured some drinks for dinner, before Jennie moved on to some more pressing matters.

“Dale was in trouble again today. He’d been drinking and he got in a fight with another kid – he’s only 13! I’m worried that Colin and Robert will pick his habits up, Liam,” explained Jennie, worry showing all over her face as she recalled what Rachel had told her earlier in the day.

“Well it’s his own fault. You can’t choose a child’s path for them; they go the way they want to, Jennie. Besides, I’m sure he’ll grow out of it eventually - He’s not a bad lad really,” replied Liam in an attempt to try and ease his wife’s worries.

Liam hoped he was right because Colin idolised Dale and everything he done. They had moved to Kiddlington to get away from Barton but they couldn’t move far because they didn’t have much money and Jennie didn’t want to be too far away from Clive. So they had made the move from the east side of Oxford to the north side in an attempt to get away from all of the violent memories of Oxford.

It really wasn’t that far though and Kiddlington was just as tough as Barton. Colin and Robert still managed to visit Barton regularly to see their cousin, Dale and hang around in Barton, no doubt getting up to no good. Still, boys will be boys.

August 25th 2007

“Super Frankie,

Super Frankie,

Super, super, Frankie Lampard”

Sang Colin as he watched his beloved Chelsea go a goal in front. Colin had supported Chelsea since the first time he’d seen them because he liked the colour of their kit – Blue.

Quite a few people would make remarks about his team, but Colin didn’t care. He’d been at Chelsea before the Ballack’s, the Drogba’s and the Abramovich’s and he would be there long after as well.

Despite his love for Chelsea, Colin had never been to watch them as his family could hardly afford it. They barely scraped together to get enough money for a decent amount of food, let alone tickets and travel to a top flight football game.

At 14 years of age, Colin couldn’t chip in with a lot of money but every penny counted. Colin and his younger brother Robert were both doing paper rounds before school and the money that they earned from it usually went to their parents so that they could put it all together and keep their stomachs full with a roof over their heads.

Colin took another sip from his glass of coke that his parents had bought for him and enjoyed it. This pub had always served nice, ice cold coke. And it tastes much better than the alcohol that he and his friends drunk even though Colin claimed to enjoy drinking alcohol. Really, he didn’t like the taste of it but would never admit that to his friends – who all seemed to relish getting drunk at every opportunity.

As he thought about his friends, Colin’s mind floated across to his brother and he wondered how his beloved Kiddlington were faring without him. Colin hadn’t been allowed to play because he’d done something to the ligaments in his foot, but that didn’t stop him wanting to play. Despite his hopefulness, it hurt to walk on the foot and he knew he had no hope of really playing in the game.

Still, he hoped his foot would be better soon as he had training with the Oxford team on Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s and he relished having the opportunity to improve as a footballer and measure himself up against the first-teamers. Colin constantly pushed himself to be as good as the older men – if not as good as then better. The coaches had told his parents that both he and Robert could be really good players if they really applied themselves in training and so that’s what Colin done.

“Come inside!”

With his back to the goal, Robert took notice of the call, prodding the ball to his right with the outside of his battered right boot. As he skipped inside towards the centre of the pitch deep inside of the opponents half, Robert felt someone niggling at his feet and knew it would be that huge fullback that had been marking him closely through the whole game.

Robert kept his head down and wished that his older brother were there; he’d be waiting just outside the area for a nice ball to be rolled in to his path that he could whack at goal. However, with his injury, Colin couldn’t play today and therefore wasn’t stood outside the box so Robert put his head down and ploughed on at the defenders.

At the edge of his vision, Robert saw the huge 18 year old centre back come trudging towards him again and Robert knew what he would do. The big defender was strong but slow on his feet so Robert chose to keep the ball close to his own feet and knock it past his opponent as he came closer.

The defender soon realised that he’d come too far from his fellow centre back and had left a huge gap in behind him to be exploited – but it was too late to go back, he knew he had to close the small boy down. The kid with the ball seemed a lot younger than everyone else currently playing and some of the players laughed as they saw him lining up on the right wing but he had soon put his critics to bed with his dazzling pace and quick feet.

Robert waited for the big defender to lunge in at him and kept the ball close to his own feet. He knew that his marker couldn’t be far behind now and that he would soon have to play the ball or be tackled. That’s when his striker clicked on to the move and ran into the space behind the defender who had moved forward to tackle Robert.

The defender dived in ferociously and Robert prodded the ball over the flying defender, jumping quickly out of the way of the tackle. As the defender slipped past him in dismay, Robert watched his striker latch on to his pass and slot home to give Kiddlington another goal. ‘Even Colin would have been proud of that’, thought Robert, smiling to himself as his teammates ran towards him.

“They had a big lad marking me but he was no good in reality. He gave me a couple of kicks and pushes but nothing that really affected the game,” Robert explained to his granddad.

“Oh did he? Well, you should have snapped his legs,” replied Clive in a casual tone. Jennie frowned at her dad and the two younger boys laughed. That had always been their granddad; if someone bites you, bite back – but twice as hard.

“Dad, don’t encourage them!” said Jennie. Clive and his grandsons laughed with each other as the old man winked at the two of them. He knew they always listened to his advice.

Really enjoying this...

I'm glad to hear it, Blanco thanks for reading

23rd January 2008

The cold wind slashed at Colin’s hands and he rubbed them together to try and create some warmth. He looked up at the sky and there were no stars, just a dark, purple-ish blanket above them.

Robert stood with his hands in his coat pockets, not daring to bring them out and expose them to the freezing cold air. Clasped in his right hand was his phone. Robert quickly took his phone from his pocket and checked to see if Dale had sent him the text yet, before hastily putting his hand and phone back into the warmth of his coat.

“Has he given the signal yet?” Colin asked Robert as he saw his younger brother glance at his phone.

“Nothing yet for god’s sake – do you think I’d be stood in the open if he had? These blokes better hurry up and get here or I’m going home,” answered a grumpy Robert. Colin sneered at the remark from his brother and chose not to argue back purely because of the cold. They might have another fight on their hands soon so it was better for him not to scrap with his brother.

“What cut do we get?” asked Robert.

“£20 each alongside a fix if it all goes well. I need a fix as well, freezing my a*se off here.”

As Robert thought over what he’d do with his bonus £20, he felt his phone vibrate against his hand. Without hesitation, he pulled his phone out and read the text that had been sent to him from Dale. With a smile, Robert turned to his brother and nodded towards the trees behind them.

“Fina-fuc*ing-ly, they’re here,” said Colin in reply.

“You think they’ll try it on?”

“Nah man, they’ll know that Dale has people watching over the deal. They’re tw*ts if they try it,” answered Robert.

“In a way, I hope they do try a dirty. That way, we can take every fuc*ing penny that they have, man,” said Colin, smiling at how much richer he would be, come the end of the night.

The two brothers looked across to the basketball court that was around 30 metres away and looked at Dale who was stood with his bag on his back and his hands in his pockets. They saw Dale looking out of the court and down the pathway to a group of boys walking towards Dale.

Dale could feel the sweat forming on the palms of his hands and he didn’t know why. He’d done plenty of deals before and they had all been relatively straightforward. When things went wrong, he could normally take care of them. Standing at just under 6ft and weighing in at 11 stone, Dale knew how to take care of himself.

Dale watched the group enter the court and quickly counted their numbers – four of them. He watched on like a hawk as the group confidently made their way towards him with their faces set in stone expressions.

As the leader of the group, a boy nick named as ‘Sugar’, took the fore, his expression changed. He was a big lad at 17 and stood a fair few inches taller than Dale. As well as being well built, he had a reputation for always carrying a weapon with him and loving a fight. Dale could see a pale scar on his dark skin above his left eye as the group stepped closer and Dale was thankful that he had his two cousins as backup - they wouldn’t run and leave him.

“Eh good boy, Dale. Fettiplace Road at 7pm, just like we said man. I bought a few of me friends to see you and make sure you behave yu’self man. You got the grass, bluh?” said Sugar as he took some steps away from the other four boys and made sure that everyone knew who the boss was here.

“Nah man, you bought your friends cause you a pussy-o boy. To scared to come alone unlike me. You gotta grow some balls, son, we only here to do an easy deal and be done,” replied Dale. The group of boys smiled at Dale’s reply and Sugar let out a quick chuckle to himself.

“Atta boy, Dale. Yuh still as feisty as ever, blood, that’s what got you tha respect, man. But please tell me you got the stuff wi’ you or we’ll have to bust you, man, and that don’t make me happy.”

As quickly as the smile had come to Sugar’s face, it had gone by the time he finished his sentence.

“You know me, Sugar, gotta keep your guard up in this place and you gotta keep sharp. But yeh, course I got the stuff. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, would I?” said Dale, tilting his head to one side as he finished. Dale watched the smiles creep across the faces of the small gang and realised he shouldn’t have said that he had the cannabis on him.

“Fuc* sake man, what’s taking so long?” whispered an agitated Robert.

“You know how it is – manners and all that,” Colin joked.

“But no, seriously, shut your mouth and keep watchin’. Things can change in an instant.”

As Colin spoke, the two brother saw the group of boys edge towards Dale and both of them squinted, trying to get a better view of what was happening and readying themselves to sprint to their cousin’s aid.

“They’re gunna try it!” said Robert.

Colin waited for a few seconds before replying and remembering that Dale said he would signal if he needed help.

“No, maybe not. Wait until Dale gives us a signal. If we go sprinting in, we’ll sh*t up the chances of a smooth deal. We’ll wait for a signal,” answered Colin.

A few seconds after Colin spoke, he saw Dale flex his shoulders and quickly glance towards where he and Robert were hidden. Without another word, the two brothers broke into a sprint and charged towards the basketball court

Dale dropped his bag and rolled his shoulders, glancing quickly to where he thought and hoped his cousin’s were hidden. Now that he had signalled for them, all that he could do was hope that they would get here in time.

“Eh, don’t be silly now, son. Give us the bag and we’ll leave you, man, simple,” said Sugar. Dale made no attempt to reply and waited for the first boy to step inside his range. Sure enough, one guy stepped forward but had no intention of getting hit. He quickly jumped back out of range and watched Dale’s fist fizz past him.

“Ok, that’s how you wanna play man, fair one to yuh. You a brave boy but you dumb as well, man,” said Sugar before turning to his gang. “Let’s take it easy on him and then just take the bag and go,” he finished.

The gang advanced on Dale and he stood his ground. The first of the gang was met with a hard thud to his cheek before Dale took a defensive stance again, daring the gang to come closer. The boy who had been hit stepped forward again in rage and threw a flurry of punches at Dale.

All that Dale could do was dodge the raging fists and watch as the rest of the group pounced on him, hammering in their own punches. Dale kept his fists in front of his face to protect his head but his body was taking a battering. Where the hell were his cousins?

Dale then heard the gate to the court open and soon he saw the small figure of Robert clinging to the back of one of his attackers and hammering punches into his ribs, winding one of the gang members. Only a second or two later, he was joined by Colin who tackled one of the boys to the ground. The gang of five regrouped a few paces from Colin and Robert and readied themselves for their next attack, each choosing their own target.

“I was beginning to think you’d ran off, you tw*ts, what took you so long?” said Dale as Colin and Robert pulled him to his feet, grinning.

“Well you know, we thought we’d give you the chance of taking the whole group on. Once we saw you were in trouble, we came in and saved your ass just like you said, man, now stop whinging,” answered Colin.

Dale had been on his feet for a mere few seconds before the next attack came in and Colin was the first to react. He ducked under a fist that had been aimed at him and jumped upwards, taking his attacker with him into the air before falling to the concrete. Colin clambered on top of the boy but before he could throw a punch he felt something crash into the right hand side of his chest and he was sent sprawling.

With the adrenaline flowing, Colin felt no pain and quickly sprang to his feet. The next boy grabbed Colin and they grappled with each other, both of them trying to gain the upper hand.

Robert saw his older brother being held against the fence and ran across to help him. He punched the unknown boy in the ribs and saw his opponent crumble, releasing Colin from his grip. Without waiting for another opportunity, Colin head butted the boy and sent him reeling, holding the top of his nose.

The brothers turned around to see Dale laying in to another of the boys and Robert showed no hesitation in picking another target. Colin looked around in an effort to find Sugar. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw the dark-skinned figure coming towards him with what looked like a flash in his hand.

Colin knew it was a knife and spun to get out of the way of Sugar’s thrust but he wasn’t fast enough. Although he didn’t feel the knife dig in to him, he felt it nick him just above his hip and took a few steps back to avoid any other immediate danger.

Colin glanced at the knife which looked to be about 6 inches long. His fears were eased a little as he saw that only the end of the knife had a smear of blood on it so the wound wasn’t deep. At that moment, Robert and Dale both flew in at Sugar, knocking the youth flying and sending the knife up into the air.

Robert and his cousin pummelled Sugar with kicks and punches as the knife spiralled to the ground a few feet from Colin. He walked towards the weapon and picked it up as the other three of Sugars boys ran out of the court.

“Move out of the way, lads. Lets teach ‘Sugar’ a lesson,” said Colin, holding the knife tightly in his right hand.

Robert and Dale moved away from the boy on the floor and their eyes widened as they saw Colin holding the knife in his right hand. Robert knew what he had to do and stepped between Colin and Sugar.

Truly excellent work. Congratulations!

Many thanks, 10-3 I hope you continue to enjoy and read the story;)

“Colin, put that down man. Let’s just take his money and get out of here, it’s not worth it.”

Colin thought through his brother’s words but still held the knife tightly in his right hand. By now, Sugar had looked up and was sat upright, rubbing his ribs.

Robert looked from Colin’s blooded grey hoody, to the knife and then around to Sugar and knew that he had to stop his brother from doing something stupid – even if it meant taking him down himself.

“Just calm down, Colin, we don’t need to use a weapon on him. We’ve already beaten them alright? It’s done, let’s get back to Dale’s place and just have a puff and calm down.”

Colin nodded and threw the knife into the trees behind the court before making his way towards Sugar.

“Stay still, Sugar. You move and we’ll kick the sh*t out of you, I swear it. Take your coat off and give us your wallet.”

With the tension gone from the group, the three boys closed in on Sugar, ready to take their spoils from the fight. Sugar didn’t even make an attempt to get away and took his coat off and his wallet out of his pocket, handing both of them to Dale and staying sat on the floor. Blood streamed from his nose but he simply wiped it away and leaned back on both of his elbows.

Dale smiled and looked through the wallet while Colin and Robert rummaged through his coat. Colin pulled out a phone to his delight, but that was all they found. Dale took all of the money from the wallet before chucking it back to Sugar.

Without a second look, Dale and the two brothers trudged back to Dale’s house to clean themselves up, have a few drinks and a few puffs of cannabis before splitting their winnings from the night.

February 27th 2008

Colin, Robert and Liam sat in the office of Les Taylor, the ‘Centre of Excellence Manager’ at Oxford United. They had been summoned there for a meeting and Les was due any second now.

Liam looked around the small room. They were sat at a wooden desk which had a computer on it and lots of pieces of paper all over the place. Liam looked around and saw and FA Cup Runner’s Up medal accompanied by a Watford shirt and a Captains Armband. Liam nodded at the impressive set.

Alongside that, he saw a ‘Player of the Season ’81-‘82’ trophy. The Plaque underneath read:

‘First ever Watford team to get promoted to the top flight. Finished Runner’s Up to Luton and I was awarded this at the end. Happy Days’

Around the room, various shirts had been framed including an Oxford shirt, a couple of Watford shirts, a Reading shirt and a Colchester shirt, all in that order. Accompanied with each was a photo of Les playing for the respective team.

At that moment, Les walked into the room. He was balding with grey hair only around the sides and he was heavy set, but he walked with pride and looked as if he knew his business. Judging by the walls of his office, he knew as much as anyone.

Liam and his sons rose to greet him, each shaking hands with the man before taking a seat again at his desk. Les held a few pieces of paper in his hand and tossed them onto the table before sitting down himself.

“Good afternoon, guys,” he smiled, “can we get you a drink of anything or anything to eat before we start?”

Liam looked at each of his sons before turning back to Les, “No we’re okay, thank you,” he smiled. Les nodded and put some glasses on before inspecting the pieces of paper he had brought into the tense room with him.

Outstanding story Offspring8 keep it coming

I felt for sure one of the boys was going to be killed, excellent story telling.

Will do, Ian. Glad you're still reading

Wega, that's what makes stories so good: the author can do anything they want at any time. Thank you both for your praise

In the corner of his eye, Colin saw Robert’s leg bouncing at a speed. Colin looked at his younger brother with a frown and Robert stopped his leg. It was something he done when he was nervous and it annoyed Colin tremendously. Colin too had noticed the items on the wall and his respect for the older man had grown. He vowed to himself to listen to everything that Les said and to take it on board.

“Right boy’s, I invited you and your father here today to discuss your future at the club. A few of the coaches and I have been watching the two of you during training and some of your matches for Kiddlington and we were impressed.”

Les noted that all three of the characters sat in front of him beamed with pride and he decided to continue. “We all agree that you both have tremendous potential and we’d like to offer the two of you youth contracts here at Oxford United. What do you think?”

The two brothers almost jumped out of their seats and ran around the room in celebration at the announcement. This is all they had worked for and they were finally being rewarded. Liam looked at his sons and gestured for each of them to answer for themselves.

“I would love to!” said Colin. His younger brother nodded at the words with a huge smile on his face and Les knew he had them. These kids could definitely go on to a higher level if they trained well – but if they did, Oxford would get as much money out of it as they possibly could.

“In time, we will arrange for that to be done. Colin is all that you could wish for in a modern midfielder. He fights for every step, he can pass and tackle and he can lead. Robert is already faster than most – if not, all of the other players here at Oxford United and he can finish his chances as well as put a good cross in. We are extremely excited at the futures that you two have ahead of you,” Les smiled. It was all true and Les was trying not to show his desperation to sign the two boys.

“But you haven’t made it yet – not even half way yet. Yes, you have won a contract but that doesn’t mean you’ve made it. If you keep putting maximum effort in at training, I’m sure you will become brilliant players but you can’t get carried away. You have to keep going.”

Both boys took notice of the warning and nodded seriously.

“One more thing,” said Les. “I have been in contact with an old friend of mine who works as a coach for the England Under-19’s. I’ve requested that he comes and has a look at the two of you so if you keep your performances up you might be getting a call soon. We here intend to give you the best opportunity and we are considering playing the two of you in the first team pre-season frien...”

Both of the boys’ minds went blank then. A call up for England? They were still trying to get over winning a contract for a conference team and now they’re talking about England? As the two brothers snapped their minds back to the room and away from dreaming of an England cap, they saw that Liam had risen to shake Les’s hand and both boys copied the action.

“What was Les like?” asked Clive enthusiastically. Clive still remembered the days of the hardworking midfielder, Les Taylor, and hoped that he would one day get to meet the man.

“Yeah he was cool. He knew his stuff and said some good things about us,” replied Colin.

“He was a cracking player a few years ago - bloody brilliant. Always sticking a tackle in and fighting for the cause. Players like him are a rarity nowadays and that’s such a shame,” said Clive, reminiscing about the days when football was a true, honest sport. At times, Colin reminded Clive of Les Taylor and that’s why Clive loved watching him.

Bit of a schizo manager...

"Make sure you keep your feet on the ground" closely followed by "A call up for the England U19s might be on the way"

Great stuff, Offspring (if that is your real name...)

Oh, and Wegason, in a story called 'A Tale of Two Brothers', I was pretty sure that both of them would at least have made it to the pro footballer stage...

Perhaps, but I felt for certain that Dale was the one who was going to get knifed.

It takes all sorts, Blanco if that is my real name? It's my username sorry if I misunderstand you, not quite sure what you mean there

And I thought about killing Dale off early but I think he could do more in the story than he could do out of it

29th May 2008

Colin sat at the desk in the manager’s office and stared at the collection of papers in front of him. Across the desk sat Chris Wilder, the manager of Oxford United and Les Taylor. Sensing the nervousness of the boy, Chris Wilder spoke up.

“All it states is that for now, you will be paid £55 per week to train with us for two days in a week until you leave school. This contract would also tie you to another contract which you would sign on your 17th birthday in 2010.”

Colin nodded and signed in the area pointed out to him as his dad, Liam looked on, proud of his son and the contract he’d won.

“Did he sign?!?” called Jennie from the front door. She had seen the Vauxhall Astra park outside and she was at the door in a shot to find out if her son had signed for Oxford. Liam turned towards his wife and raised his fists in front of him and Jennie shrieked with joy. She came trotting down from the house and hugged her son much to his embarrassment. They were in the middle of the street and he had no doubt that eyes were on him.

“Thanks mum but this is a little embarrassing,” said Colin quietly. His mother then quickly let him go and hugged Liam instead. Robert appeared at the door and he was quickly followed by Dale. Colin walked up to the house with a big smile across his face.

“Did you get it? Nice one, man!” said Dale, coming forward to give his younger cousin a quick slap on the shoulder. Robert followed suit and then the two younger sisters, Trisha and Michelle came to the door to congratulate their older brother.

That night, Colin, Robert and Dale had a quiet celebration in Colin’s and Robert’s room which included cannabis and alcohol.

June 6th 2008

“Dan, why the f*ck didn’t you pass it, man?!? I was through!” Colin screamed. It was a sunny day and the two brothers were playing football on the school field with their mates at lunch time.

“Hey, you ain’t the best in the world you know! You think you’re better than all us – you ain’t you d*ck!” Daniel shouted back.

“Ah f*ck you, mate. You never pass it to me ‘cause I’m better than you and always have been, get a life son.” Colin trotted back down the pitch to the centre of midfield and then waited in his position to receive the ball.

All of a sudden, Colin was flying through the air and landed with a thud. As he looked around, dazed, he saw Daniel on top of him and caught a glimpse of his fist before it hit him in the side of the face. Then, before Colin could recover, he felt Daniel shudder and all of a sudden he was free. Colin looked across and saw that Robert had tackled Daniel and was now on top of him with both of the boys trading blows.

Colin scrambled across and hit Daniel in the gut before pulling his brother away. There were about 30 people gathering by this point to watch the school fight and as the school kids heard the teachers come scrambling across, they used the old tactic of mingling together so that the teacher’s couldn’t see who got in a fight and so that nobody got in trouble. However, Daniel was easy to spot with a bloody nose and so was Colin with a bump on the side of his face.

Both boys were taken inside and to the headmasters office where they were told that they would serve the rest of the day in internal exclusion in one of the deserted class rooms. Neither boy said anything about Robert’s inclusion in the fight, but that was a common, unspoken rule among school fights – if someone wasn’t identified at the scene, nobody else would grass him up.

“Colin? I’m sorry mate. I shouldn’t have attacked you but you really p*ss me off sometimes, man,” said Daniel as both boy’s sat in the class room doing past exam papers and staring out at the sun.

“It’s alright, man. If there was no emotion in football it would be boring,” Colin smiled. “I’m sorry I said those things. You are a good player and I didn’t mean what I said.”

The supervising teacher then walked back in to the room and both boys quickly fell silent and made it look as if they were doing their exam papers.

“Colin? Les Taylor is just outside the door, he wants to see you,” announced the teacher. Without a word, Colin stood and walked to the corridor outside the room, wondering what Les was doing at school. As Colin set eyes on Les, he knew he was in trouble. Could he be punished by Oxford United for something he done at school? He didn’t think so.

“What do you think you’re doing, Colin?!?” said Les with his hands on his hips.

“It was just a quick scrap, not like anybody got killed or anything,” answered Colin.

“Listen; when you signed that contract, you became an ambassador for the club. What do you think parents will say when their kids go home and tell them that a member of the Oxford youth team attacked another boy at school?”

“But I didn’t attack him! I was attacked by him and my bro-” Colin stopped at that point, realising that he’d let his brother in to the story by accident.

“Oh, so Robert was involved as well, was he? Even worse - how does this sound: ‘Two Oxford United Youth players attack school mate during football game’? Right, you won’t be paid for next week or the week after that as punishment. Don’t ever make me have to come here again!” raged Les. Colin knew better than to argue back and simply looked at the floor as Les stomped off.

Harsh, nothing like a bit of good school scrap IMO

That's true, but the brothers are being groomed as professionals. Or maybe Les just likes being harsh, who knows here's the next installment, Wega and everyone else who's reading. Enjoy

July 3rd 2008

“Come on, push yourselves!” shouted Mickey Lewis, assistant manager to Chris Wilder. Mickey loved putting all of the players through tough pre-season schedules and was renowned for it. As Mickey called out, Colin frowned and forced his legs to keep moving despite their protests. He then recalled a Genghis Kahn quote from a book that he had read before:

‘The body is merely an animal that carries it’s owners; you and your mind. Sometimes, it will scream for a rest but if you can ignore those screams and drive the beast on through pain, you can conquer anything.’

Colin got to the green shuttle, the last one, and bent down to touch it, looking across as he did so.

To his right, Colin saw Adam Bowerman not far behind. Adam was quite a cocky young lad and loved winning. As did many other youngsters at the club, Adam rated himself fairly highly. Just past Adam was the Oxford first teamer, Yemi Odubade. Yemi was voted the Supporters Player of the Year back in 2007 and was held in high esteem by most in Oxford. He was far from the biggest man on the pitch but there weren’t many that were faster than Yemi.

As Colin spun around to begin his last burst back to his team, he looked to his left and saw his younger brother, Robert. Robert was firing ahead of the competition including his brother and the only person left to race him back to their teams was Yemi Odubade. Robert got back first due to his ability to reach his top speed quickly, but Yemi wasn’t far behind. Then, Colin came in just in front of a tired Adam Bowerman.

While taking heavy breaths, Colin walked towards his brother. As he approached the smaller boy, Colin felt a warm bead of sweat roll down from his dark brown hair and wiped it away. Playfully, Colin pushed his brother to the floor.

“You little bugger! I could have beaten you but mum told me not to make you look bad in front of everyone,” laughed Colin. Robert remained on the floor, resting his legs while another member of his team ran more of the shuttle runs.

“No way, even Bazza could’ve beaten you and he’s carrying an injury!” replied Robert. After hearing his name mentioned, the 29 year old Barry Quinn turned to face the two youngsters, laughing at their competitiveness. Barry was still nursing a pulled hamstring and had only just returned to training.

“Alright children, stop your arguing,” said Barry. He walked over to the younger brother and helped him to his feet again. “If you carry on, I’ll have to upstage the two of you all over again,” he continued from behind his stubble. Barry was referring to the mini assault course in which he had come up against the two brothers and beaten them by tripping Robert up who, in turn, pulled his older brother to the ground. Neither brother liked losing to the other and went to all lengths to ensure that that wasn’t the case.

Both of the brothers had been accepted into the team as gifted players in different areas. Colin had shown that he could work well with everyone on his team and that he could lift the performance of other players to an extent as well as pick out a good pass or two. Robert just loved to run in behind defenders – whether it be on the wing or up front. Once Robert starts running, he was rarely caught by anybody.

NOTE: I am working away in Newcastle until for 11 days, starting tomorrow (Monday 27th April) and I'm not sure if the place where i'll be staying will have an internet connection or not. If so, great and I'll keep updating this story as per normal. If not, apologies and I'll continue to write it up in the evenings, posting again when I return on the 7th May. Apologies again, see you all soon, Offspring:)

Friday 11th July 2008

“What do you think he’s called us in for?” asked Robert.

“I’m not too sure. You sure you haven’t been caught in anything?” replied Colin. Robert cast his mind back and couldn’t think of anything that either of the brothers could be in trouble for that the club didn’t know... other than a few drinks and spliffs but nobody knew about them. Robert looked at his older brother and saw him walking confidently. He noted that Colin had grown a lot in the last few months and was on his way to becoming a man.

As Robert noted a few of the subtle changes in his brother, he felt himself calm down a bit more and feel a little more confident. Colin had always been able to do that - lead. He could keep a cool head in hot situations and knew what to say to motivate people in almost all scenarios.

Soon, the two brothers found themselves at the door of Chris Wilder’s office. Colin quickly glanced at his younger brother before knocking on the door. He felt a little nervous at what the First Team Manager had wanted to see them about but he didn’t let it show, knowing that his brother would be looking to him for an example.

“Come in,” called the unseen voice. Cautiously, Colin opened the door and stepped inside. Behind Colin came Robert. They looked around the office and saw that it was much like Les Taylor’s office but without as many pictures and trophies. The room had plants in all four corners and a desk with a computer sat atop it in the middle of the room. Chris Wilder stared intently at the monitor for a few seconds before eventually turning to face the brothers.

Chris looked at the young footballers and smiled. He knew he was in the presence of two potentially very special players – even if they didn’t know it yet themselves. Anybody with a decent football mind could see it from the outside though. They carried themselves with a confidence that was easily recognisable but wasn’t arrogant. When they played football, they could both run games. Colin made everything look so easy and Robert could change the pace of a game at a whim. They definitely had potential.

“Sit down, guys, you’re not in trouble.”

Both boys relaxed a little bit and took steps towards the two chairs opposite the Manager. Mr. Wilder was a fairly well built guy and had been a footballer in his earlier years, playing at Southampton as a trainee before moving away and playing for numerous clubs, including Sheffield United and Rotherham United. He played over 130 times for the latter and scored 11 goals. Not a bad count for a full back by any means.

“Thanks for coming,” said Mr. Wilder, glancing at each of the brothers. Both nodded back and it was evident they were nervous even though they tried to hide it. Chris decided to continue, “I just wanted to ask you two how you would feel about playing in a few of our friendly games during this pre-season?”

Colin raised his eyebrows and couldn’t stop his mouth from falling open a little. He quickly hid his surprise but couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to his face. Inside, he was dancing with joy and was barely containing his excitement. He couldn’t think of a reply, only that he wanted the match to come as soon as possible. Robert was much the same as his brother and Chris Wilder again smiled at the two brothers.

“We’d love that. When will we be playing?” said Colin simply.

“Excellent. Our first friendly is on Monday the 14th in a couple of day’s time. After discussing this with a few of my coaches, we decided that we’d like to give you as much first team experience as possible, as early as possible. What do you think?”

“Yeah, it would be quality if we could get a game with the adults. Thanks, Mr. Wilder, we won’t let you down!” said Colin with excitement almost bubbling out of his ears.

“It’s no problem, boys,” Chris Wilder laughed. “Go and let your parents know and tell them I’ll call them later to discuss it, ok?”

Both boys nodded enthusiastically before standing to shake the manager’s hand. They almost ran from the office and the Manager couldn’t help but laugh to himself. They hadn’t even asked who they were playing, where the match would be or how they would get there – they were just simply thrilled, and so was Chris. Even if neither of the boys eventually chose to stay at Oxford, he’d get a nice sum of money for them and Chris was thankful that such players had been dropped in his care.

Monday 14th July 2008

Harrogate vs. Oxford (FRIENDLY)

Monday 14th July, Wetherby Road

It was hardly Old Trafford, but Colin and Robert didn’t care. To them, it was heaven. Today, they had been told that they would both be starting for the Oxford first team and that had put both of them into an untouchable mood.

Colin was to start alongside the captain, Joe Burnell in central midfield while Robert was to start on the right hand side of midfield. The two brothers ran alongside each other across the pitch with the rest of the Oxford team, waiting for the shout from Joe Burnell which would signal the sprints.

“Now!” shouted the captain. The whole team broke from a jog into a sprint and watched as Robert pulled away from the rest of them. Colin then ran to his brother and each of them leaned on the other while stretching their muscles.

“We’re here, man,” said Colin. “It’s a shame that mum and that lot couldn’t make it but hey, they can watch us next time.”

Robert smiled at his brothers words. In a way, he’d prefer it this way. It meant that his parents got to watch both of their son’s on their debut match at the Kassam Stadium and that would spur both of the boys on.

This is what the team sheet showed as the brothers looked at it:

Ben Hinchliffe – GK

Damian Batt – DR

Chris Carruthers – DL

Chris Willmott – DC

Luke Foster – DC

Robert Rudyard – MR

Craig Nelthorpe – ML

Joe Burnell – MC ©

Colin Rudyard – MC

Yemi Odubade – ST

James Constable – ST

“Colin, mate, you need to really work today. Keep talking to everyone and don’t be afraid to get forward. Joey will cover for you if you bomb on so play without fear,” said Chris Wilder. Colin nodded before pulling his tracksuit top off and grabbing his shirt from the table in the middle of the changing room.

The number 9 wasn’t his favourite number but that didn’t matter. As long as the shirt showed ‘C. RUDYARD’ on the back, he couldn’t care less. Robert was much the same and smiled to himself as he saw ‘R. RUDYARD’ floating above the number 6. Both of the boys pulled the shirts over their heads and made sure to remember the feeling of the polyester rolling down their backs. That memory would stay with both of the boys until the day they died.

Colin turned to his younger sibling and laughed to himself as he saw that the shirt was a little bit too big for the small boy. It wouldn’t matter on the pitch because, unlike Colin, Robert always tucked his shirt into his shorts but that wasn’t the point. Right now, the shirt went down almost past Roberts’ shorts and coupled with the pride on the 14 year old boys’ face, it looked comical.

Colin pulled his sleeves up past his elbows and sat down on the bench going around the outside of the small, square changing room. He reached inside his Adidas boot bag and pulled out his battered blue Adidas +F10’s. They were Colin’s only pair of boots and it had taken awhile to save up for them, but he loved them. He’d even cleaned them three times over for this special occasion.

Robert tucked his shirt in and knelt down to his Nike boot bag, pulling out his own red and black Nike T90’s. Again, they were his only pair and again, he’d had to save up for a long time before he could afford them.

The sun beat down hard on the players as Robert readied himself to take the throw in from deep inside the Harrogate half. He wasn’t any good at throw-ins at all, but that didn’t matter too much at the moment. He took a few steps forward and threw the ball to Odubade who controlled it with his chest.

Colin pushed away his markers’ arm as Odubade brought the ball down well. Colin was waiting in the 6 yard box and was being closely marked.

“Come on, Yemi, get it into the box!” screamed Colin. Instead, he fed it back to Robert. The ball rolled towards his weaker left foot and Robert silently cursed at himself for not learning with his left foot as well as his right. Despite his weakness, Robert stroked the ball in with his left foot and watched as his cross turned into an unintentional shot. The Harrogate ‘keeper scrambled and eventually palmed the ball over the bar, but it still counted as a shot on target.

Colin applauded the effort even though he knew it was an accident. After that, Colin jogged to the edge of the ‘D’ and awaited the corner kick from Carruthers.

“Get up and win it, lads! Big jumps!” shouted Colin, clapping his hands together. The corner was good but Nelthorpe was beaten in the air and the clearance header bounced out for a throw-in. Colin groaned to himself and took up his new position. Still, it was a good start by Robert.

It soon became clear that Harrogate were playing with a peculiar formation. It was hard to see exactly what it was while trying to play the game of football but it looked something like a 3-3-2-1-1 with two wingbacks and a defensive midfielder. Anyway, despite what formation they were playing, Colin had been given the Harrogate number 10 to mark, whose surname was Rothery. He seemed to be playing just behind the striker and Colin had to mark him until his centre backs called out.

Luke Foster called out and so Colin left the Harrogate number 10 and went to press the ball in the middle of the park. Three Harrogate players passed the ball around between them and Colin chased every pass ferociously, rushing each of the passers with his determination. Eventually, they slipped the ball past Colin to the man who he had previously been marking, Rothery.

Rothery took the pass with one touch and looked up at our goal. As Colin tried desperately to reach his opponent, Rothery released a long-range shot at goal. It was a decent effort but Colin wasn’t surprised to see Ben Hinchliffe beat the shot away without too much trouble. Carruthers then came in to mop up with a clearance.

25 minutes into the game, Robert found himself taking another throw in deep inside the Harrogate half once again. His throw towards Yemi Odubade was cleared with a header, but only back to Robert. As the ball began its decent to Roberts’s feet, the young winger looked up to the man closing him down. Robert made his decision instantly and fed a first time ball back to Joe Burnell, who was more central, before spinning outside and giving his captain the option of a return pass.

Burnell took up the option and as the ball rolled towards Robert, he heard Damian Batt come running in behind him.

“Yours, Batty!” shouted Robert. As he shouted, Robert dummied and let the ball run between his legs and eventually to Damian Batt who was stood by the touchline. Robert ran forward again to pull the defender away from Batt and give him some space. His plan worked and the right back swung a fast cross into the box.

Colin spun around ferociously, angry that the cross had floated just behind him. Had he delayed his run into the box by another second, the cross would have met with Colin’s head and the ball would have been in the back of the net, but that wasn’t to be.

Colin watched on as Nelthorpe collected the loose ball on the left wing and he decided to stay in the penalty area, putting himself at the near post. The cross was far too high for Colin though and he could only watch as the ball floated to the back post.

With his back to goal, Robert brought the ball down inside the box and stroked a nice pass back a few yards to Damian Batt. Robert then ran out to the right wing again and gave Batt the option to feed the ball to him. Batt did give Robert the ball and with no immediate pressure on him, Robert turned inside on the very edge of the area.

Robert teased the Harrogate defence with a slow dribble on the edge of the area. Then, when one of the defenders committed himself, Robert chipped a pass into the empty space in the penalty area. Yemi Odubade pounced onto the pass and lashed the chance home from 5 yards out. Yemi ran off towards Robert and hugged him with Oxford 1-0 up after 26 minutes.

That’s when Robert gained his confidence. From then on, he was constantly running at his marker, weaving in and out with step-over’s, giving the ball to his brother before accelerating in behind the defence and receiving a return pass. A goal never materialised but the threat was there for all to see.

“He’s tearing that defence apart with his speed,” said Chris Wilder to his assistant.

“You’re right,” said Mickey Lewis. “But we need to give him a rest. He can’t keep running like that forever. Besides, it will give someone else a chance to get some match fitness.”

“True, Mickey. I think we’ll change Robert at half time. We’ll put James Clarke out there and see how he does. What about his brother?” said Chris, looking sideways at his assistant as he spoke.

“Yeah, that would be your best bet. Colin? I think he’s played ok but not as good as his brother. Give him a little more time, I would,” said Mickey Lewis. Chris Wilder nodded and smiled as Robert darted past the Harrogate left back once again.

“I didn’t bring you up to take all sorts of drugs, Dale!”

Dale could see that his mother was absolutely fuming and for what must have been the first time in years, he was scared. He’d been in many fights and confrontations before, but for some reason nothing compared to this.

Linda pulled Dales bed cover from his bed and searched inside for more drugs. In her mind, she could still see Dale’s face when she had walked into the room a few minutes ago and seen him setting up a line of cocaine. Her rage rose inside her and Linda couldn’t bare to look at her son.

“Mum, I’m sorry. I just can’t help it!” protested Dale. He knew it was no use, no matter what he said now, he was in trouble. Then, she went to his drawers and Dale dreaded what she might find.

Linda looked through all of the clothes there and eventually stopped when she saw some single socks. She plucked one of them up as if she was an eagle picking up a mouse and pulled out the contents. Inside, Linda found all sorts of pills, powders and syringes.

“What is all this sh*t Dale! What are you doing to yourself!” screamed Linda, throwing a bag of some unknown powder at her son as she did so.

“Whatever, mum! What does it matter, it’s my life so I can do what I want!” replied Dale, trying not to shout at his mum but not to sound scared either.

Linda then stepped towards her son, pulled back her right arm and then brought it forward again, cutting through the air and cracking Dale on his cheek with a slap that could be heard from outside. Dale stumbled backwards and put his hand up to his cheek. When he looked at his fingers, he saw a small amount of blood. The teenager then looked back at his mother, who had tears streaming down from her eyes.

“You have no right to take my son from me, I want him back, now get out! Don’t you even think of coming back until you’re clean, Dale!” shouted Linda. Dale walked backwards through the door before turning, running down the stairs and grabbing his coat before jumping out onto the street.

NOTE: You've probably noticed by now but just for the record, this story is following the careers of two brothers and their attempts at making it big. Neither of these players have been set to Premiership standard already. Both have PA of just over 190. However, where/if they move will not be decided by me. I will leave the game to run its course and I'll follow wherever it winds up to. All I can do is hope that the game makes them improve significantly and helps me a bit with the story thanks to all who have read so far and a big thanks to all who have commented I really do appreciate it:thup:

“We need to keep it tight at the back, boys. Colin; don’t worry so much about going forward. Sit alongside Joey, just in front of the back four, ok? When you get the ball, ping it out to the wing and let’s see if we can defend our lead,” said Chris Wilder. Colin nodded at the instructions. So far he hadn’t done much of note but he hadn’t made any mistakes either.

Colin pulled up his socks again and turned to his brother who was sat beside him. Robert was dead pleased with himself; Robert had set up Oxford’s only goal and had a shot himself, as well as turning his marker inside out time and time again.

“You played well today. Got your first assist as well, man,” said Colin to his brother. Before Robert could reply, Chris Wilder had come over and sat between the two brothers.

“Well done today, lads. You’re both doing well. Robert, we’re going to bring you off and give another lad a run out. Colin, you’ll stay on for a bit longer. Let’s see what you can do defensively,” said the manager, putting one arm around each of the boys.

“Alright, boss. Thanks for giving both of us a chance. We appreciate it,” answered Colin. The manager laughed quickly before standing up and going back to the centre of the changing room.

Robert sat on the hard, wooden bench and craned forward to see Harrogate fly at Oxford again. Half an hour of the second half had passed and Oxford hadn’t had a single chance yet. Harrogate had pinned their opponents against their own door and were trying their hardest to smash through and get their reward.

Colin collected the ball and tried to burst away to set up a counter attack for his team. To his right, Colin could hear Joe Burnell calling for the ball but Colin wasn’t interested. Instead, he decided to drive on towards the half way line.

Colin could hear someone trying to keep up with him from behind and felt his shirt tighten around his chest and knew that someone was trying to stop him from breaking quickly. Colin grew angry at the foul and spun around, punching the arm that was holding onto his shirt.

Immediately, before the situation could grow any worse, the referee blew his whistle and ran between the young midfielder and his older opponent.

“Hey, come on, Col. You can’t do things like that, mate,” said Joe Burnell, pulling Colin away from the confrontation. The referee then called Colin back and he was closely followed by Joe Burnell, who kept hold of the youngster’s arm throughout the process.

“If this wasn’t a friendly, I’d take action against you but I’m willing to let you off today. You need to learn to ignore things like that. No more please, number 9,” said the referee. He was quite a young guy himself and Colin suspected that he hadn’t been a referee for too long.

“But ref, you need to blow for a foul at times like that, man! Then I wouldn’t of done anything,” said Colin in reply. The official simply shook his head in reply and gave the ball to Colin for a free-kick.

Burnell took the free kick but it went straight back to Harrogate. Colin then looked for the man that he was marking and chased him as Harrogate worked towards Oxford’s area. They drove on down the Harrogate left wing and Colin stood on the edge of his own area, marking the Harrogate number 20. A cross was whipped in and in less than a second, the ball was in the back of the net.

Colin threw his arms into the air in frustration and swore at the defence. A Harrogate striker had wormed free and tapped the ball in from close range to allow them to pull level.

Colin didn’t have much time to curse though, as he was soon instructed to leave the field as a substitute. Unwillingly, Colin trotted towards the sideline, clapped hands with his replacement and then made for the bench next to his younger brother.

The two boys then watched on as their manager instructed his team to push on for a winner. Oxford responded, pushing forward and winning a corner as a result. From the corner, Oxford’s sub Alex Fisher headed the ball against the bar. It then fell to another sub, Craig Farrell, who made no mistake in poking the chance home. With just over 10 minutes left after that goal, Oxford managed to hold on to an unconvincing win.

Harrogate – 1

Nick Gray (75)

Oxford – 2

Yemi Odubade (26)

Craig Farrell (78)

Man of the Match: Robert Rudyard

Att: 380

“What happened, man?” asked Colin after seeing his cousin led in a sleeping bag on the two boys’ bedroom floor. It had been a 3 and a half hour drive back from Harrogate and both of the boys were tired, but that didn’t matter much at the moment.

Dale sat up, glad to hear his younger cousin’s voice. His aunty Jennie had taken him in without any fuss and he was thankful.

“My mum found some of my drugs and kicked me out. We had a big fight and I’m not allowed back until I get clean,” answered Dale, laughing as he finished his sentence.

Neither of the brothers laughed and Dale stopped, noticing a difference in the two of them. Dale looked from one to the other, noticing the steely determination in both sets of pale, blue eyes. Both of the boy's had something about them that said that nothing would stop them from doing what they want, and Dale no longer felt like the ringleader.

“You need to get off of the drugs then. Me and Robert hardly do any of that stuff anymore and you need to be the same. And Dale; we don’t want any drugs in here,” said Colin. Dale looked at his two younger cousins again and knew they were serious. He had to get off of the drugs and back to his own house.

Jennie thought about her nephew again. She hadn’t been able to get hold of Linda yet, but she knew that for Linda to kick her own son out, it must have been something bad. Jennie also knew that Dale was on drugs. You could see it as you looked at him – his face was shallowing, he didn’t talk as much as he used to and he hadn’t filled out like he was supposed to.

She then thought about her son’s. They weren’t druggies, were they? Jennie trusted them, but she didn’t trust Dale and she knew how much boy’s loved to impress their peers. In her head, Jennie told herself that she trusted her sons not to do drugs and therefore there was no need to ask them. In her heart, she didn’t ask because she was scared of the answer that might emerge. Jennie rolled over, hugged Liam and attempted to get some sleep for what seemed the thousandth time.

Thursday 17th July 2008

Light rain fell from the sky, dampening Colin’s short, dark brown hair and flattening it against his scalp. The English summer was never brilliant and that was how it was proving to be today. Colin had a hoody on so could have protected his head from the rain, but that wasn’t the thought in his mind at the moment.

In his hand, Colin held a ring. It had been Andrew’s once but the man had asked for his ring to be given to his son hours before he died. Colin turned the ring in his hand, sliding his fingertips across is smooth surface. Then he felt the letters that had been etched onto the ring. ‘HOPE’, it read.

In front of Colin was the grave of his father, Andrew. This is where Colin came if he needed to think about things, or if he needed to cry. He never let anybody see him cry and as he raised his head from the ring to the headstone, he felt either a rain drop or tear sliding down his cheek. Which one it was, Colin was unsure.

“Why were you so angry?” whispered Colin. He knew no answer would come and almost laughed at himself for hoping he would get one from somewhere. He never got answers from Andrew before, whether he was alive or not and that wasn’t about to change. Then anger began to rise inside Colin.

“Why didn’t you stop yourself? Was drink really more important than your son?” said Colin, struggling to stop himself from shouting so as not to bring any unwanted attention to the scene. Part of Colin was happy that his dad was dead. His mum no longer lived in fear of going out to the shops or letting her sons outside.

But another part of Colin wanted Andrew back. He may not have been a great dad, but he was still his dad. Colin also wanted to ask the man questions; lots of them. And he wanted to attack his dad – attack him for what he’d done to the people Colin loved the most. Liam, his granddad Clive, his mum – Colin knew that he was crying now.

It was only now that he realised how scary it must have been for his mum. She deserved a better life than all of this and Colin was glad that she was now happy. But that didn’t make anything any better. Colin still felt the need to attack Andrew in some way for all that he’d done. Then he took a deep breath.

“I’m not like you. I won’t ever be like you. I can only hope that now, you realise what you done to my family,” said Colin. He then put the ring back on a chain which he wore around his neck, and then wiped the tears and rain clear from his face before pulling his hood up.

With one last quick glance back at the headstone, Colin turned and trudged his way through the grass and away from the bitter memory that was his father - away from the feeling that someone had been watching him. Colin looked around but nobody was there. He hoped it had been some form of Andrew, just so that his dad had heard his words. That’s all he had: Hope.

Good story, I am enjoying it thus far

That's what I like to hear, Monkey, that's what I like to hear Welcome to the story and thanks for the comment

Regular updates should be returning now and I apologise to all of those who have been following the story so far. Here's another little bit for you guys

The microwave came to a stop and pulled his steaming portion of Macaroni Cheese from it. After pouring the meal into a bowl, Colin made his way to the front room to find out all of the latest football news.

As with the rest of his life and the rest of this council house, the front room wasn’t pretty. The second hand white leather sofa that stood in the far corner of the square room had tears in it, with some stains from spilt drinks and god knows what else. The beige carpet had scraps of old food trodden down into it and was generally dirty.

As Colin stepped over the threshold, he saw the row of shoes and boots that was to the left of the doorway. Each pair had a hole in or was torn somewhere and almost all of them were covered in dirt. Colin turned to flip the light switch on but was greeted with just a click and no light. The bulb needed changing again – or perhaps nobody had changed it from the last time Colin had tried to turn it on.

With the room lit only by the TV, Colin took his seat on the sofa. It was only then that he noticed Robert, who was sat watching Sky Sports. Colin pushed his fork into a few pieces of pasta and then raised the fork to his mouth, listening to the TV as he done so.

“Portsmouth have got a guy called Glenn Hoddle in as their manager,” said Robert. Colin had stuffed his mouth with pasta and therefore couldn’t reply. Robert smiled and continued, “Used to be Chelsea manager I think. And he had a couple of years with England as well.”

“Cool,” replied Robert, not really paying attention to what his brother was saying. Food was much more important than Glenn Hoddle. “Anything else happened then?”

“Well, Man City have started their revolution today. They signed Marek Hamsik from Napoli for something like £25 Million and they signed Yury Zhirkov for just under £15 Million as well.”

Colin nodded. He doubted that Man City would put up a title challenge this season but knew that they would do in time. With all that money, it’s impossible not to challenge for the title.

Then, the two brothers heard a noise coming down the stairs. It was normally their granddad as he always woke up at strange times. Surely enough it was Clive who soon stood in the doorway.

The older man was getting thinner and had started smoking again for some reason. But even though he wasn’t as strong as he was a few months ago, he still had an air of confidence and determination about him. His body hadn’t been able to keep up but his mind was as strong as ever.

“What are you two boys doing up at this time? It’s nearly midnight and you’ve got a game tomorrow,” said Clive.

“I was just grabbing a bite to eat, I’ll be off to sleep soon,” said Colin, lifting his bowl up into his granddads’ view as he did so. The older man nodded and then looked to Robert for his reason.

“I couldn’t sleep – and the game tomorrow is only against Milton, that’s only twenty minutes down the road, right?” explained Robert. “Are you coming to watch us tomorrow, granddad?” continued the youngster, in an attempt to change the subject.

Clive smiled and nodded, “I’ll be there, make sure you both have your A-Game on otherwise neither of you will be getting any dinner,” smiled Clive. Both of the boys smiled back. There was still life in the old guy yet.

“Now f*ck off to bed,” added Clive, pointing upstairs. Neither of the brothers questioned him and both rose to go upstairs. There was still plenty of life in him yet.

Friday 18th July 2008

Milton Utd vs. Oxford (FRIENDLY)

Friday 18th July, The Sportsfield

“Alright boys, we’d like another solid performance from both of you today. We’re trying to get you into the rhythm of playing against older, stronger, faster players now so that when each of you comes of age, we can stick you both right in,” said Chris Wilder, kneeling down in front of the two brothers.

Both of the boys nodded to the manager. They wanted to show just how good they both were and to put themselves on the map. But playing against fully grown men was not easy and each of the brothers were struggling with the physical side of the senior game.

With his Oxford cap and shirt donned, Clive stood by the edge of the pitch, watching as the referee signalled to each goalkeeper. Both ‘keepers signalled back and the referee blew his whistle to start the game.

Straight away, Oxford were attacking. Simon Clist pulled away down the left wing. Colin broke towards the back post and began screaming for the cross to be put in. Surely enough, the ball flew towards the back post and Colin charged, timing his jump to perfection.

Just as Colin forced his head into the forward motion that would direct the header at goal, Milton’s Liam Middleton jumped up in front of Colin and flicked the ball out for a corner kick. Clive covered his mouth with his hands and cursed.

“Unlucky Colin, chin up mate!” shouted Clive.

As Simon Clist placed the ball down to take the corner, Robert noticed that two players had picked him up. In an attempt to open up some space in the area, Robert trotted towards the corner flag to give the short option. Both of his markers followed him and Robert smiled, happy that his plan had worked. He wasn’t even really a threat from set pieces so why they had placed two men on him, he couldn’t figure out.

Clist hoofed the corner into the 6 yard box. The players jostled for a good position with sly elbows and shirt-pulling flying around like viruses. Colin himself had someone’s forearm across his chest and that stopped him from attempting to meet the cross.

Eventually, it was Jamie Constable who climbed above his marker. He met the ball well and headed down towards goal. The header was powerful but looked to be going off target – until Milton’s Clive Daly got in the way. The header struck Daly on the thigh and bounced across the line to give Oxford the lead early on in the game.

3 minutes later, there was another goal. After working the ball down the left side of midfield, Carruthers passed the ball inside to Joe Burnell who was stood on the halfway line. As Burnell went towards the ball to collect the pass, Colin looked around himself to check what space he had. The nearest opposing player was 10 yards from him and so Colin began to call for the ball.

“One more, skip!” screamed Colin, desperate to get the ball and prove what he could do with it. The Oxford captain turned inside and pushed a pass towards the young midfielder. As the ball rolled towards Colin, he shouted out for his younger brother to make a run on the wing.

Robert didn’t need the call – he was already speeding down the wing and pulling away from his opposing players. Without raising his head, Colin turned with his first touch before setting the ball into the path of where he knew his younger brother would be. He didn’t need to look, he could have made that pass with his eyes close because of the amount of times Colin and his brother had pulled that same move off.

Robert controlled the pass with the top of his boot, bringing the ball to a dead stop. As another Milton defender moved out towards Robert, the small winger put his body in a shape that would indicate that he was going to cut inside. Then, as fast as any cat could, Robert snapped to the outside, leaving his defender stood facing nobody.

Robert then squared the ball from the right, across the face of goal to where one of his strikers should have been. The cross bounced once just in front of the goal before Jamie Constable came flying in to smash the cross home for a 2-0 lead. Constable then ran across to Robert to celebrate, while Joe Burnell strode across to Colin to give the youngster a pat on the back for his decent pass. More of the same could only spell success for all parties.

15 minutes later, Oxford were still dominating in every aspect of the game. From a throw in, Odubade received the ball just inside the Milton half. Colin could see that his path in front of him was blocked and so moved to make himself available to receive a pass from his team mate.

Odubade was almost tackled, but won the ball back straight after he lost it, rolling possession into the feet of Colin Rudyard. Again, with acres of space around him, Colin had time to take the ball and look for options.

As soon as Robert saw Odubade give the ball to his older brother, he was off on another one of his blistering runs. Robert went from the right of midfield and ran behind Colin, in between the Milton left back and centre back and towards the penalty spot.

“Put it through, Colin!” shouted Robert, desperate to get his first Oxford senior goal. Colin took a few seconds and waited for Robert to get free of the defence. Then, in the split second between Robert getting away from the defence and staying onside, Colin released the pass through a crowd of Milton defenders.

Robert watched as the ball slid past the Milton players. It almost looked as if they knew that they weren’t allowed to even try and intercept the pass. Just before it reached him, Robert looked around. He had defenders closing in on him now and didn’t have much time or space. With his first touch, he set himself for the shot and with his second, Robert pulled the trigger.

The shot flew at the goal at about waist height. The slap of the leather ball against the ‘keeper’s glove was heard and the ball was punted away to the frustration of Oxford United and the Rudyard brothers in particular.

“F*ck sake, Rob! Hit the back of the net!” screamed Clive. He wanted the two boys to do well just as much as they did themselves; he knew they could make it at a higher level. They were showing glimpses of it today but they needed to be better.

Colin was constantly making himself available, always asking for the ball. When he got it, he used it well as well. He was also a vocal player, keeping the team organised and on their toes. Robert was giving his marker a nightmare with his runs down the wing and in between opponents. He was zipping in and out all over the place and, had he been more clinical, he could have had a goal to his name.

Five minutes later, Colin was making a run into the box from deep. Jamie Constable had the ball out on the left wing and hit it in towards the midfielder. The ball travelled 30 yards towards Colin at a high speed and with defenders closing him down already, he knew he had to take the shot on first time.

The ball bounced just before it reached Colin which made the shot even more difficult. Despite this, Colin managed to keep the shot low and powerful and the ball flew towards the bottom corner. Then, a brave Milton player threw himself in front of the shot to keep his team from going a third goal down. Colin cursed again as the ball bounced away for a corner. It was a difficult shot to pull off and it had been stopped yards from the goal to deny Colin his first goal.

A bead of sweat trickled from Colin’s hairline and onto his brow. Colin rubbed dust from his eyes and then wiped his face with the yellow Oxford shirt, frustrated that he was still without a goal or an assist to his name. He knew he wasn’t playing badly but there was definitely more to come from him and it was frustrating.

Half an hour into the game, Oxford were still dominating. Clive watched as Robert tore away from his marker once more. The speed of the youngster amazed Milton’s defence – they just couldn’t counter it.

Repeatedly, Colin would collect the ball on the halfway line and spin towards the right wing in search of his brother. Just as Colin expected, Robert would be there every time, accelerating away from the poor sod that had been given the task of keeping him quiet.

From where he was stood, Clive could see that Oxford’s forward Jamie Constable had figured out the way the brother’s played. Every time Colin received the ball, Constable would be putting himself in a good position to receive a cross from Robert. The brothers were beginning to settle in and that was brilliant news.

Clive felt a dull pain in his back and leaned forward, using the rail running along the outside of the pitch as support. His back had been weak for a while now and Clive cursed his weakness. He then stood upright again, away from the rail. He was a proud man and no age or ache would change that, he didn’t need any help to stand up.

Clive pulled his mind away from the ache in his back to watch the game again and saw Robert with the ball on the right wing again. With his marker left spluttering on the cloud of dust left behind from Roberts run, the young winger fired a cross towards the back post.

As the ball left his foot, Robert dodged a late tackle from a Milton player. He was used to the afters from bitter opponents. Nobody likes being beaten repeatedly and being helpless each time. Robert waited for the defender to look up at him before smirking, enraging the older man.

While Robert wound up his marker, Colin flew into the box and attacked his brothers cross. He wasn’t fast enough and Colin swore loudly as he came to the ground, frustrated once again that he’d missed an easy chance to score. He wanted a good performance to show to his grandad and was determined to give him something to be proud of.

Here's my update which will kick-start a more regular routine of updating. Hopefully you enjoy it I think I may have written a bit too much as far as this match is concerned, let me know if you'd like the report shortened a bit XD the second half isn't as long as the first half, just so you know. Part of the reason it's quite long is because of the amount of goals scored. But yea, I'll shut up now and just let you read, feel free to throw a brick at me for blabbering on a bit

Offspring

The midfielder didn’t have long to swear though as Simon Clist retrieved the ball for Oxford. Clist chipped the ball into the 6 yard box which was packed with players from both sides.

Colin ran to meet the cross once again and was blocked at first by Milton’s Matt Connolly. Determined not to let his opponent get in his way, Colin shoved the older player to the floor. The Milton defender grabbed Colin on his way down and the teenager was sent tumbling to the floor as well, while Constable connected with the cross.

The referee then blew his whistle for a foul, and Colin pressed his opponent into the ground to help himself to his feet. Connolly shoved Colin’s arms away and rose to intimidate the teen by squaring up to him, snarling as he did.

“Oi! You want a fight with someone, bring your a*se over here and we’ll see if you’re still so cocky!” shouted Clive, raising his fist high into the air. A young couple stood next to Clive, looked at the older man.

“And what do you want?” snapped Clive. The younger couple quickly looked away and Clive smiled to himself. Colin took no notice of his granddad, instead meeting the gaze of his opponent, not daring to back down.

Joe Burnell then stepped in between the pair, pushing Colin away from the confrontation. Sometimes, Colin’s determination to win would boil over. It had almost happened before in training – especially between Colin and his younger brother. The two of them held nothing back if they had something to say to each other and the Oxford captain knew he had to pull a rein in on that anger.

“Keep your head, Col. Don’t do anything stupid,” said Joe. Colin bit his bottom lip and walked away. As he went back to his position, Colin glanced up at his granddad. Clive motioned for a ‘sneaky-elbow-to-the-ribs’ and then laughed, and Colin laughed with him. His granddad always gave the best advice, and Colin always made a point of following it.

A few minutes later, Connolly could only watch as his young opponent Robert Rudyard crept in front of Milton’s centre back and behind Milton’s central midfielder unnoticed. Connolly rushed forward to pick the fiery youngster up but couldn’t reach Robert before he was given the ball.

Connolly let his anger reach the surface and decided to give the lad a kick to remember him by. The Milton midfielder surged forwards towards Colin Rudyard. Connolly then moved in to make a sliding tackle at high speed and looked forward gleefully to the crunch that would soon follow, sending Oxford’s young midfielder crashing to the hard ground.

As the ball rolled towards him, Colin could hear grunting to the side of him. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see Milton’s Matthew Connolly speeding towards him, almost stumbling in his excitement at being presented with a chance to hit Colin. With the crazed look of Connolly’s face still fresh in his mind, Colin rolled to one side and let the ball come across his body to slip out in front of him.

Colin broke in to a sprint, latching onto the pass as Connolly flew past behind the youngster, not even nearly touching him. A sly smile broke out quickly across Colin’s face as he imagined the frustration of his opponent. He’d simply out-thought him.

While Connolly simply sat on the floor, pulling his socks up, Colin pressed on towards the penalty area. He looked up to scan the space in front of him for a runner. Nobody was there. Milton players were closing in on him and Colin didn’t have much on offer. Then, he saw Yemi Odubade drop his shoulder and signal for a pass to his feet.

With the outside of his boot, Colin slipped a pass into the gap that Odubade had created for himself. From just inside the area, the small striker took the shot on with his left foot, but had the opportunity blocked by a brave defender.

The ball ballooned into the air and Robert Rudyard sped away from his marker in chase of the ball to try and keep it in play. Despite the Milton player having a healthy amount of Robert’s shirt in his hand, inside the area, Robert stayed on his feet and stretched his right leg out to meet the ball, attempting to play it back across the face of goal with his first touch.

Robert was successful and shouted with joy as he watched Constable climb at the back post to nod home from close range. Constable embraced Robert and lifted the youngster from the ground as Oxford went 3-0 up with 34 minutes played.

As the first half edged towards an end, Colin and Matthew Connolly became embroiled in a private, personal battle. Things got ugly with elbows, shoulders and even fists once when Colin aimed a quick jab at his opponents’ ribs. Had his opponent been older and bigger, Connolly may have complained to the ref in an attempt to see his opponent dismissed. However, with Colin still being little more than a child, Connolly avoided that option because of his pride. He’d be the laughing stock at Milton for weeks if he was shown to complain about being man handled by 15 year old boy.

In terms of chances, Oxford continued to dominate. Robert and Colin worked together to create a chance on goal for Colin, but his low effort was saved fairly comfortably and pushed away for a corner before the half time whistle blew.

With encouraging words coming from the manager and his staff, Colin and Robert both took to the pitch again. The only changes to the Oxford team were Chris Carruthers coming off for Matt Day in defence and Joe Burnell coming off for Barry Quinn, who also took the captaincy for the remainder of the game.

Milton had also made a few changes, one of them being Matthew Connolly. He’d probably been taken off to prevent any major incidents occurring, whereas Colin had just had a quick few words of warning in the dressing room.

Straight away, Oxford crushed any faint glimmer of hope with an early second half goal. Robert had the ball at his feet from outside the area. He looked up and scanned the penalty box for an opening.

“I’ll have, Rob!” shouted Jamie Constable, peeling from his marker at the back post. Robert gave the ball to Constable, who turned on his first touch before firing home from close range for his hat-trick. That made it 4-0 and put the game beyond any doubt.

Chris Wilder smiled and turned to his assistant, Mickey Lewis.

“Jamie’s having a good game today, isn’t he? He’s really working well with Robert; the lad has set up all three of his goals today!”

“They all seem to be on their game today, I think all we need to do now is to keep a clean sheet and it will have been a great performance,” replied Mickey.

With that, Chris Wilder rose and walked towards the pitch, calling for his team to shut the game down and keep a clean sheet. Now, it was time to learn how disciplined they were.

Oxford proved to be as disciplined as any old Roman Army, suffocating the game and keeping chances to a minimum. Up until the 70th minute, there had been only once chance and that had fallen to Colin Rudyard, who took a shot only to have the ball cleared off the line.

Satisfied with the performance, Chris Wilder decided to make some changes. Four players were taken off, including the two brothers. Colin and Robert proceeded to the bench, both happy with their displays.

The rest of the game passed without incident until the 87th minute, when Matt Day put a cross in from deep which took a deflection and bounced into the goal to make it 5-0 to Oxford. The game was won, a clean sheet had been kept and there were good performances all round.

Milton – 0

Oxford – 5

Clive Daly (OG 2, 87)

Jamie Constable (5, 34, 48)

Man of the Match: Jamie Constable

Att: 375

Tuesday 22nd July 2008

The thug shoved Dale violently into the wall and spun him round, pushing his head against the wall with force. Then, Dale felt another pair of hands on his shoulders; they ran down his sides and began searching for any weapons. As the hands went into Dale’s pockets, he felt his wallet being pulled away. After a few seconds pause, the hands came back again and continued the search.

Then, without warning, Dale was spun around forcefully once more and felt something cold against his throat. He didn’t need to ask what it was, most gang members carried one.

“Try anything and I’ll put you to sleep, permanently,” said the man. Like his buddy, he was well built. Both men had green eyes with a glint of evil. Dale knew that he couldn’t try anything, even if he had wanted to in the first place. He simply nodded.

Both men put a hand on each of his shoulders and led Dale through a doorway into another room. The whole house was dark, so Dale couldn’t really see what was in this room. But he could smell cannabis, alcohol and many other smells. To his right, there was a window that had its curtains drawn. An escape route, even though they were upstairs. He’d rather jump out of the window than let these guys have their way.

“Dale, my man, how are you?!?” came a loud voice, seemingly out of nowhere. It was the voice of ‘Sugar’ and Dale could see an outline walking towards him.

Sugar came forward and went to hug Dale, laughing as he did so. Dale gave a quick grunt as he felt something pierce his thigh. After the initial sharp feeling, it felt like Hulk Hogan had given Dale a dead leg, and he knew Sugar had stabbed him.

Dale pursed his lips to stop himself from shouting in pain. He felt like his leg couldn’t hold him up at all, but he knew he’d be beaten if he went to sit down.

“What’s up, my boy? Something wrong?” smiled Sugar, seeing Dale in discomfort. Dale said nothing, but met Sugar's gaze. He heard the low chuckling of other men in the room, and had no idea how many of them there were. It dawned on Dale that he might never leave this house, and he began to shake uncontrollably as his heart began beating against his ribcage.

This is great stuff, Offspring. Thank you for sharing it with us!

Many thanks, 10-3 . It's a privilege to share my stories with so many other great writers and to recieve praise for it, hope you continue to enjoy

“Well, what are you here for, you f*cking idiot, speak!?!”

“We had an agreement,” said Dale, trying to control his voice so that it showed no fear or pain. “One bag of ‘Skag’, I’ll pay you for it tomorrow.”

“Do you take me for an idiot, Dale? No money, no Heroin, simple,” replied Sugar. He’d expected to make the sale today in exchange for some much-needed money and he felt rage build inside him that Dale had brought nothing.

“Sugar, I wouldn’t bring money here. I was right not to, your boys took my wallet from me. I have the money at home, I want to meet tomorrow, just me and you and then you’ll get your payment.”

Sugar looked at the two men stood behind Dale and vowed to have them both beaten lightly. Had they not built such a reputation for taking clients money beforehand, Dale could have brought the payment today.

“Fine, here’s the stuff. Now, you have five seconds to get out, man. Otherwise, we’ll rough you,” said Sugar, throwing a clear pouch of Heroin to Dale. Dale caught the bag and turned to run from the room. In the background, he heard Sugar counting down from five.

Then, Dale was tripped over. He felt the weight of another man fall down onto his chest, and he knew he wasn’t getting away.

“....2....1... You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” smiled Sugar.

Robert heard the door open and knew who it would be. He glanced across the room to see if Colin had woken. There was no movement and Robert breathed a sigh of relief. If Colin heard Dale come in at 2 in the morning, he’d be straight up and there would be trouble.

As quietly as he could manage, Robert climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs. All of the lights were off but he could hear the kitchen tap running.

“Dale? Where you been, man?” whispered Robert.

Dale jumped at the sound of his cousin’s voice. His senses were on edge and he wanted just to dissolve into nothing because of the pain he was in. “You alright, cuz? I’ve just been out with some mates, that’s all,” answered dale, dabbing his cuts with a wet flannel. Sugar and his boys had made sure that Dale paid for his attack on Sugar over half a year ago.

Robert could tell from the sound of his voice that Dale was uncomfortable. His older cousin hawked and spat into the sink and that was when Robert knew that he’d been in a fight.

“Come on Dale, tell me what happened?”

“Alright, I ran into Sugar again. He’s back around these parts once more. He had a couple of his lads with him and they had a score to settle with me, that’s all. Let’s just leave it at that now, I don’t want Colin knowing,” said Dale. As he spoke, Robert heard a noise behind him.

The kitchen light and Robert turned to see his brother stood there with a look of thunder on his face. Slowly though, that look changed and once Robert turned to face his cousin again, he saw why. Both of Dales eyes were near enough shut, his nose was pointing in three different directions and there was blood running from the corners of his mouth. Droplets stained his plain, white t-shirt which had been ripped and torn in various different places.

“Sugar done that to you?” spat Colin. Robert saw Colin clench his fists and he could see colour flowing to his face. With Dale still stood over the sink, Robert moved to stand infront of his older brother.

“Colin, keep it together. Everyone is asleep, leave it for another time. We’ll find Sugar soon and let him know what we think about it.”

Colin took a deep breath and tried to control his temper. He was partly mad at Dale for not coming back in until 2 in the morning. Jennie had taken Dale in and asked him to respect their rules of not getting home too late and Dale seemed to ignore it. However, he was mainly angry at Sugar. Colin vowed to himself to make sure he got back at Sugar.

“Where did they get you?” asked Colin.

“I was walking back from the shop when they jumped me. It was dark so I didn’t see them coming,” answered Dale.

“We’ll get them back, Dale. Don’t worry mate,” added Robert. Dale gave no answer and proceeded with wiping and cleaning his cuts. Both brothers could tell that something wasn’t quite right about Dale but neither pressed further on the matter. That would be a talk for another day.

Monday 28th July 2008

Colin and Robert each took a seat, awaiting Chris Wilder’s weekly update. It was a regular thing, more like a scheduled team meeting. Anything about the club would be discussed here, mainly transfer rumours.

Chris Wilder entered the room and stood at the front. As he did so, all of the players fell silent to hear what the manager had to say.

“Firstly, the squad numbers for this season have been decided. Check the notice board and you will find out your number. If anybody has any problems, please don’t hesitate to ask,” announced the manager. Every player had already spoken with the manager about their shirt number but this was just the gaffer announcing that they had been made official.

Colin had settled on number 13 for the season while Robert had accepted number 21. Neither boy was all that bothered but to some of the older players, their number was a big deal.

“Secondly, we’ve been made second joint favourites to win the league behind Torquay and Cambridge and on a par with Wrexham. But we all know that odds can be and often are defied, so let’s not read too much into that,” said Chris Wilder, looking across the room. The players nodded, happy with the odds given by the media. They were a force in this league and they knew it.

“And last but definitely not least, contracts. There are 12 of you that are in your final year and most of you will be offered renewals soon. However, Eddie Hutchinson and the club have already spoken together and both have agreed to part company if the opportunity arises, so be prepared for Eddie’s departure.”

Most of the players turned to look at Eddie Hutchinson. The midfielder smiled and nodded, showing no bitter feelings. There would be some farewells later, but for now, Chris Wilder required the attention of the players again.

“In terms of new players joining us, we have offered a contract to a Dutch player by the name of Regillio Nooitmeer, who is a free agent. However, with a lot of competition for his signature, we aren’t expecting to sign him. Instead, the club are looking at some potential loan targets from some teams who we have a history with - affiliates, if you like. I’ll let you guys know when I know, thank youm” finished Chris Wilder. The team then stood to leave the room, with a few players wondering if their place in the squad would be under threat this season.

Thursday 31st July 2008

Oxford vs. Coventry (FRIENDLY)

Thursday 31st July, The Kassam Stadium

With his hot dog in hand, Liam sat down on the chair in between Clive and Jennie. The sun had gone down and it was a comfortable temperature for football at 11 degrees Celsius.

The Kassam was a good stadium, even though a big part of it was still a construction site. Liam was getting more and more excited at the fact that both of his sons would soon be playing for the Oxford first team in the Kassam, and he could feel his chest swell with pride as he devoured the hot dog.

As Robert pulled the Oxford jersey on for the first time at the Kassam, he felt pride inside him. He knew that both he and Colin would make Liam proud tonight and that this match meant a lot to the two of them.

Coventry were much harder opponents that their previous friendlies, it was their first match at the Kassam, their family was watching and neither of the two had scored so far, though Robert had four assists to his name and one Man of the Match performance. It would be fair to say that this match was the biggest of the two brothers’ careers to date.

Colin rose with the rest of the team and the left their changing room behind, lining up alongside the Coventry City team in the tunnel. Already, you could tell the difference between Coventry and Milton. The players were bigger and just had something about them. In truth, Colin was a little star-struck. After all, these guys were only one level below Premiership standard.

Then, Colin had to snap himself out of it as the teams walked out onto the pitch. For the two brothers, this moment would live on in their memories until the day they die. Walking out onto the Kassam for the first time was something truly magical for the brothers and both of them felt the urge to do well and spur Oxford on to a win.