Gilbert the Footballer

Gilbert is at home, watching his pet llama destroy more of his hedge. Since the lockdown started, it is where he spends almost all of his time. Yes, he is becoming frustrated, but he perhaps has a better reason than most to feel this way. He is a foreigner living alone in a big house, in a rural area in the north-west of England. His command of the English language is limited too, adding to his problems. Welcome to an unexpected, if limited, consequence of the pandemic!

Being a professional footballer playing for one of the bigger clubs is not always the bed of roses it is portrayed as being in the media. The obscene wages, bonuses, add-ons etc. are all very nice, but when you have a massive amount of free time and nothing to do apart from try to stay fit, things can get a bit depressing. Gilbert is also quite young. His girlfriend Angie is French. More relevant to this story, she’s in France, Marseille to be precise, with no intention of leaving the city until the virus is obliterated throughout Europe. So, as well as being depressed, Gilbert is lonely. It’s not at all what he envisaged when he agreed to move to England a few months ago.

The club is being supportive, if for no other reason than the amount they’ve invested in him makes it crazy for them not to do so. Indeed, the big house is actually owned by one of the club’s Directors. Gilbert was insistent from the get-go he didn’t want to live in the city and get dragged into the glitzy nightlife scenario many of his compatriots became embroiled with, irrespective of the glamour and excitement involved. He wants to concentrate on doing the best he can for his new team, and has made it clear to the support people who have been looking after him from Day 1 that somewhere quiet is preferable. When the offer of this house was made, he accepted immediately. With hindsight, perhaps he should have thought about the pro and cons a little more seriously before agreeing. Then again, the virus is unknown territory for everyone. How on earth would anyone be able to anticipate that?

It’s colder in England than France. He feels it more. An obvious statement to make perhaps, but Gilbert isn’t French and climate geography was not offered in any of his limited educational opportunities when growing up. The same applied to languages. Gilbert is a Syrian refugee who managed to get to France somehow, where his talent was discovered. The rest is history. Football was everything then. It still is now.

The club is giving him stuff to wear, which is great and keeps him warm, but is not as much fun as going out to buy it yourself. It’s also helping him to learn the language, but not being able to travel to lessons has reduced the effectiveness of this. It’s distance-learning now, which doesn’t have quite the same impact.

Then there’s the food. The club has done what it can, but social distancing and an outbreak of Covid-19 at the bespoke caterers it uses has meant it hasn’t always proved possible to get Gilbert what he prefers. It’s not that Gilbert dislikes some of the alternatives he’s being offered – it’s just another problem that he wishes he didn’t have to deal with just now. What he really wants is to be loved and helped to acclimatise to his new club and country. The pandemic is not making it easy for this to happen.

Gilbert’s dietary arrangements aside, the club also needs him to stay as fit as possible during the unexpected suspension of the season. He arrived in England at the end of January, carrying a minor ankle injury that the club doctors advised would be best resolved by rest. Given Gilbert had been playing almost continually for two years prior to the transfer, the injury was hardly unexpected. The proposed treatment was a first though.

Gilbert had quickly realised the club wanted him to be at his best capability on a long-term basis. He was more used to injections or pain-killers to deal with any niggles in the short-term, in the hope they would magically clear up by themselves. Before lockdown was announced, he had only played twice in the first team, plus two appearances from the bench. He is feeling much fitter and enjoying the fact his ankle isn’t hurting at all now.

The facilities at the club are state-of-the-art. When the likelihood of lockdown was being discussed by the authorities, the club arranged for various pieces of equipment to be delivered to and installed in Gilbert’s place to allow him to continue his training regime safely, if independently. The fitness and training people have been helping remotely, aided by translators who know their jobs inside out. It is a shame he has been isolated just when he needs company most.

There had been no opportunity for him to return to his homeland when lockdown was announced in March….there wasn’t a homeland as such for him to be able to return to anyway. The place had been bombed out of all recognition. His parents and only sibling are dead. Well, they are according to the sketchy information he’s been able to obtain following his escape to France. Gilbert hadn’t been in Syria at that time. For all he knew, the authorities may have been responsible for their deaths. They were culpable for so many more.

The lockdown restrictions in France had started earlier than in England. Gilbert hadn’t wanted to upset his new club by going home just under two months after arriving, even though it was an option, especially as he was feeling better about his fitness and enjoying being involved with a great bunch of players. He was learning so much as well! After a fortnight or so, when it became obvious the virus was going to be around for much longer than everyone expected, the chance to get back to Marseille had disappeared. Angie isn’t happy, and tells him so at every possible opportunity. It adds to Gilbert’s growing sense of frustration with everything.

So here he is, and here he is going to have to stay until things improve. Gilbert considers the good and bad aspects of his life at present. Being slightly depressed and alone in a foreign country skews his views, which are roughly as follows: -

Bad – alone; limited language skills; weather; some of the food; virus still continuing; remote location; crap TV; that fucking llama (he’s picking up the vernacular English language quite well).

Good – club looking after him; feeling 100% fit; not caught the virus yet.

One of the benefits of living in a big place in the country is the amount of land available around the property that is yours to explore privately. With his background, Gilbert is still coming to terms with this. He’s only known tenements and flats until now.

Since getting the llama, he’s done his best to look after it. The owner of the house does have an employee based there who is responsible for feeding all the animals living there (cows, some sheep and a few chickens), but Gilbert hasn’t seen much of him since lockdown started. Anyway, Gilbert’s insisted the llama is his responsibility and he’ll feed it himself. He wants to try to develop some kind of rapport with the creature, but so far it’s been a bit of a struggle. The llama is OK about everything. There’s more food than he’s ever known due to this mad guy he can’t understand insisting on feeding him four times each day.

Gilbert has developed a routine based upon indoor exercise in line with the club –sanctioned programme using the equipment it has provided. Then he feeds the llama before running around the fields surrounding the house for up to an hour, depending on the weather. There’s also a large wall in the yard. Gilbert has started to kick a ball against it to attempt to retain some kind of match sharpness. He knows it’s just a pointless activity, but he plays football for a living and enjoys all this. Psychologically, he thinks, doing this is good for me.

Then it’s feed the llama again, shower, talk to friends and members of the club support group, play FIFA or similar on the X-Box, more indoor exercise and feed the four-legged freak again. In between all of this there’s his own food to cook or heat up and eat. His deprived background has taught him about self-sufficiency. He can look after himself and, so long as the club continues to supply the food he wants, needs or has been recommended to eat, he can cope. The evenings are when the loneliness hits him hardest.

His life continues in its restricted fashion. Gilbert is aware people go into the house from time to time to change sheets, clean and iron, but he never sees them. It’s a little unnerving in some respects, but with the threat from this virus still massive he’s happy to let things carry on as they are.

He’s aiming a football at an area he’s marked out on the wall one morning when he realises he’s being watched. It’s something that he’s used to in his line of work, but not in the privacy of his own yard. He stops suddenly and looks round. There’s a girl watching him carefully. Gilbert estimates she’s no more than 12 or 13. He waves to her but she doesn’t wave back. He doesn’t feel confident enough to try to talk to her, even though his language tutors are amazed how quickly he’s picking up English, so he goes back to what he was doing and tries to ignore her.

Being watched in this way somehow gets to him. He smashes the ball harder than necessary towards the target area on the wall. It misses by miles, rebounding away to where the young girl is standing. As he turns to follow the flight of the ball, he sees the girl trap it expertly before flicking it up with her left foot and volleying it with her right precisely into Gilbert’s path. He’s impressed, it’s a difficult skill. She smiles for the first time, but says nothing. When Gilbert turns towards her again a couple of minutes later, she’s disappeared.

When Gilbert arrived in France he had nothing but the clothes he was wearing. He’d deliberately destroyed most of his papers, including his passport. There was therefore no way for the authorities to confirm who he was. Gilbert was his real name though. Because of his age he was placed in a hostel by the authorities along with other unattached refugee kids. They found a ball one day and started to kick it around. One of the hostel workers recognised Gilbert’s talent and mentioned it to a friend, who ran a local team. He came to see for himself, agreed with the friend and approached Gilbert to see if he would be interested in playing for the team. It turned out to be the best game of football Gilbert had played up to that point. It opened several doors for him.

His ability shone brightly when he started to play for the local team. Word of mouth accounts eventually reached interested scouts, who worked for bigger clubs. The hostel worker became his unofficial agent and ensured Gilbert received the right training and education, particularly learning the language. Gilbert was fast-tracked to French citizenship after signing for Marseille’s junior side. They knew talent when they saw it, and wanted it to reflect well on France itself.

Gilbert’s rise through the Marseille academy continued at impressive speed. He made his first appearance for the first team as a substitute aged 17. At the time of his transfer to England for an eye-watering fee, aged 20, he was top scorer in an average to good Marseille side. Considering he played as an attacking midfielder, this statistic is exceptional. The two strikers playing in front of him were happy for Gilbert to leave. They were unhappy he was stealing their limelight.

He knows he’s been very lucky, but at the moment he’d give up quite a lot to be back with Angie in Marseille. The lockdown in France is more severe than in England, but at least he wouldn’t be alone. He could talk to people more easily too, in a language he’s quite competent in using. Gilbert’s thinking this whilst sat on the football he’s been using to hit the target on the wall. It is two days after he saw the young girl. He can’t remember what she looks like, but her obvious football ability remains fresh in his mind. Even with his language limitations, he decides he wants to find out more about her. If nothing else, it gives him something slightly different to focus on. But where to start the search?

At the other end of the yard (it’s a big yard) is a Landrover. Gilbert’s seen it there before a couple of times, but he’s never seen the driver. He assumes it’s the employee responsible for the animals, so decides to go and find him to attempt to ask a couple of questions. His intrigue outweighs the potential for Gilbert to make a fool of himself. He sets off and then stops suddenly, taking his phone out of a pocket in his training jacket. He types into the search engine before nodding his head as if satisfied with the information obtained from Monsieur Google.

Gilbert walks through several outbuildings but sees no-one. The Landrover is still parked in the yard, so someone must be around somewhere. He heads towards the fields, studiously ignoring a suddenly hungry llama nearby. In the distance he can see the cows gathered together as if holding a meeting. Gilbert’s knowledge of such animals is limited, but even he realises this behaviour is unusual. He aims for them, reciting some recently obtained phrases in his head as he does so.

As he gets closer, he understands why the cows are so near to each other. Food is being placed in a number of receptacles in the field by a man wearing a camouflage jacket. No wonder I couldn’t see him, thinks Gilbert. It doesn’t stop him from reciting the phrases though. He waves to the man, who stands up and begins to walk towards him. Momentarily, Gilbert thinks this is where it all goes horribly wrong. He thinks this in French, naturally.

When the man is a couple of metres from Gilbert he stops. “Can’t be too careful in the circumstances I suppose,” he says. “You must be Gilbert. Nice to meet you. Can you understand me?”

Gilbert nods. “My English is not so good. Please speak slowly to give me a better chance. What is your name?”

The man replies “Eric.”

“Ah Eric. As in Cantona, yes?” Gilbert smiles to himself, consults his phone and mouths a few words, as if tasting them for the first time. “I would like you to help me please Eric. There was a girl watching me when I was playing football by the wall two days ago.” For some reason, he’s beginning to sweat. Nerves probably, although so far the delivery has been excellent. “Who is she? What is her name? Where can I find her?”

Eric has been watching Gilbert as he speaks to him. Clearly, he’s struggling a bit but at least he’s bloody trying! Much better than that Italian last year – ignorant so and so. He responds quickly.

“Her name is Charlie, short for Charlotte. She’s deaf (he points to his ears to emphasise what he is saying, but isn’t sure the meaning has been understood). Her parents live in the cottage further down the lane (he points towards it, hopefully). She is normally only here at weekends because she goes to a special school. The lockdown has closed the school for now, so she’s back home for a few weeks at least.”

Eric doesn’t believe Gilbert has taken much of what he has said in because of the language difficulty. This is true to a point, but what is making things so much more problematic for Gilbert is the accent. Eric is a Geordie. A Geordie with a very thick accent and little understanding of how difficult it can be for English people to decipher what he is saying, let alone the rest of the world. Gilbert shrugs his shoulders in a show of incomprehension.

Marching away from the cows, Eric gestures that Gilbert should follow him. Gilbert does so and a few minutes later they reach the cottage occupied by Charlotte and her parents.

“This is where Charlie lives,” Eric says very slowly. Gilbert understands him. “Stay here. I will see if I can introduce you.” He opens the gate and rings the door-bell. A woman opens the door and a conversation Gilbert can’t understand ensues. Gilbert stands there, waiting.

Eventually, Eric returns. “Charlie is shy. She is deaf, I think that is why.” Gilbert looks at him quizzically. “Deaf. Oh, hang on, I checked the word in French with her mother. Er, sourd is it?”

Gilbert nods in understanding. This explains why she wasn’t too friendly before. In a way, it’s also good news, but more of that shortly. “Can I see her?” he asks.

“Yes,” Eric replies, “but I’d better come with you.”

“Good, but please give me a minute to prepare.” Gilbert opens his phone again and asks the man with all the answers a few further questions. Satisfied, he turns his phone off. “Let us go.”

They go to the cottage door and Eric rings the bell again. Charlie’s mother answers and they are ushered inside. They are guided to the sitting room, which faces a well-kept traditional English garden with flowerbeds surrounding a reasonably-sized and perfectly manicured lawn. Charlie is sat on a chair in the corner, looking slightly embarrassed.

Gilbert goes over to her. He’d like to shake her hand, but it’s not allowed at present. Using sign language instead, he asks her in the English words he’s just clarified on his phone if she’d like to play football outside with him. At a safe distance of course. Her smile says it all.

Back in the days before the bombs fell and bullets were fired indiscriminately, Gilbert and his younger brother played football together, outside in the streets where they lived. His brother was profoundly deaf. Gilbert had learned to sign to be able to talk to him. He missed him terribly, but there had been no chance his brother could go with him when the family decided Gilbert needed to leave Syria to have even the slightest chance of surviving.

Over the next few weeks, Charlie and Gilbert play football every day. She also teaches him English, whilst he attempts to improve her not inconsiderable footballing talent. Both have reasons to enjoy the lockdown restrictions, the easing of which has allowed some tackling to be incorporated into their games. Gilbert has introduced Charlie to the llama.

When she found out it had no name, she christened it Obama after the former US President. Gilbert signed ‘why?’ when she told him. She replied ‘what’s not to love about Obama the llama?’ before beginning to laugh. Gilbert laughed too.

Charlie liked to watch football before she thought about playing it. There were a few girls in her school who wanted to play. Whilst their disabilities held them back at home, they were all equal at the school. Charlie excelled. She was naturally talented, like Gilbert, but her opportunity to develop was non-existent. She’d all but given up on it when she intercepted that wayward rebound from Gilbert’s shot and returned it. She knew she was showing off, but couldn’t help herself.

Gilbert’s written English is improving tremendously. He’s putting in a lot of effort as he has to answer lots of questions raised by Charlie each day. Signing is a bit long-winded for doing this, so he painstakingly emails her with the information regularly. She was keen to learn why he had a llama in the first place. It took him a while before he was able to provide an answer.

He was pranked by a French-speaking team mate at his new club. He was allowed to overhear a conversation in French, in which the team mate seemed to be buying a new car. The conversation was a set-up, but Gilbert wasn’t to know this at the time. The person his team mate was talking to said he’d got another one if the team mate knew someone else who might be interested. Gilbert swallowed the story hook, line and cliché. He wanted a new car too. The llama was delivered to the big house in the country a few days later.

Gilbert eventually understood what had happened. He laughed about it then, but before that he was absolutely livid. Mainly with himself. How could he have allowed this to happen? It’s not as though the team mate hadn’t done this kind of thing before. He had a reputation for such stunts and now Gilbert had fallen for it. How did he fail to realise a llama is not a car?

The return of live sport is imminent. Gilbert’s club has recalled him to training in line with arrangements agreed by the Premier League. He’s sad that he’s no longer around so much to see Charlie, but at least he knows Obama is being looked after well. He’s shown a video Eric made of him playing football with Charlie to someone at the club who is involved with the ladies’ team. Charlie will be asked if she wants to train with them soon. He’s also organised tickets for her to attend a couple of games of her choosing with her family when things restart.

Overall, Gilbert is the happiest he’s ever been now. He hadn’t appreciated how much he missed his brother. Meeting Charlie has proved cathartic. He can’t wait to show how good life is back on the pitch.