The Captain
[Beckenham. Tuesday May 22. 07:58 BST.]
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Olise was out on the training pitch on his own at two minutes to eight, hammering a ball against the side wall of the medical building, when the whole squad was meant to be inside sitting down.
Thunk.
"Oi! Michael! Inside! You're sixteen, not invisible. I can see you!"
Thunk.
One more, because he's sixteen and the last one is always free. Then he caught it dead, tucked it under his arm and jogged in grinning like he'd not heard the first three shouts.
Skhh went his boots on the wet tarmac.
It had rained in the night. Grey May morning that could not decide what month it was. The grass smelled the way grass smells after rain, which is the one smell I have ever properly loved, and I stood in the car park for a second and had it before I went in to talk about Arsenal.
