The Euros are on so here's a little football/soccer themed story to mark the occasion.
*the Euros is a football/soccer tournament for those that don't know
Synopsis: Ashley has been offered the chance to play soccer in America and with his old high-school buddy acting as his crumby agent what could possibly go wrong?
Notes: This is just a silly idea that I came up with as I went along. It sort of changes style at the end but hey-ho it's nice for one of my stories to actually have a happy ending for once.
There are also a few jokes aimed at American/British differences that may or may not be lost on some of you.
"Hello Sir, welcome to the United States Of America. Is your visit business or pleasure?"
"Pure business." Ashley said smugly.
"And your business is...?" The large sassy African-American woman asked whilst filing her nails.
"I am here to become a football player." Ashley continued in vain to impress the customs worker.
"You don't look much like a football player." She winced, examining the fairly skinny young man's body.
"Oh no you see back in Britain football is soccer. I'm here to become a soccer player."
"What in damn hell is soccer?"
Ashley sighed and muttered under his breath, "Ben warned me about this...." before looking back up at the impatient, confused woman, "The one with the black and white ball, two goals and loads of Brazilian players...?"
"Not following you." She frowned.
Ashley groaned, "The one with all of the low scoring draws?"
"OOOOOOH!" She exclaimed. "That." Her face turned to that of utter disgust.
"Yeah. Pretty cool eh?"
"Yeah sure," she mumbled sarcastically whilst stamping his passport, "Enjoy your stay."
"Ashley!" Ben greated his old high-school buddy with several pats on the back, "Welcome to sunny California!"
"Cheers mate." Ashley said as he attempted to push the overly touchy Ben off of him. "Nice place you've got here." Ashley looked up at the cheap motel Ben had been living in for 2 years now, "I see you've got a pool."
"Yeah but I wouldn't go in there if I were you, the ratio's about 2% water and 98% piss."
Ashley raised an eyebrow.
"Yeeeeah, we don't have a toilet here." Ben shrugged.
"Well here's the room." Ben spread out his arms, almost banging them both against the paralell walls of the small living space.
"Where's the bed?" Ashley questioned, dropping his suitcases by his side.
"Oh there's no room for a bed, so I just sleep on the fridge."
Ben grinned, "The American Dream buddy!"
Ashley grunted, "You just better pray this soccer team you've got me a trial with is good and pays well."
"Look I am a top quality agent, and when the LA Porcupines asked for my assitance in finding a top quality English talent to liven up their squad, only one name came to mind."
Ashley looked away bashfully.
"Yeah you were pretty good back in high-school, I think you scored a goal once didn't you?"
"Yeah I did actually."
"That helps." Ben nodded thoughtfuly, "Right - I'm gonna go make a cuppa tea, you want one?"
"They have tea over here?"
"Yeah but it usually has chocolate-chips in it."
"God bless America." Ashley rolled his eyes.
"Okay here we are, Porcupine Stadium - home of the LA Porcupines!" Ben pointed Ashley towards the small, run down shed next to a manky, overgrown field."
Ashley looked puzzled as he gazed upon the modest shit-hole, "Oh god damn it Ben, what the hell have you brought me to?"
"Look, look, look, this is fine, this is just what soccer stadiums look like in America; what with all the low attendances and everything...."
"Fucking hell man, are you even a proper agent?" Ashley shouted at a shaken Ben. "I mean, you've had no associates before me, your suit looks like it hasn't been washed in 2 years, and you live on a fucking refridgerater."
"Actually it's a fridge/freezer." Ben pointed out.
"Fuck you man!"
"Look keep calm, I'll just go in there book you in and everything will be fine. I'm sure it has a really nice decour."
"Oh it better, or I'm on the first flight back to Heathrow!"
"Hi!" Ben smiled as he approached the young lady at the tatty reception desk who smiled weakly back at him. "I'm here on behalf of Ashley Simmons."
"Oh excellent, the coach has been looking forward to meeting your client."
"Yep Ashley is just the bit of continental talent the Porcupines need." Ben said confidently.
"Okay... so, where is she?"
"Ashley's just waiting outside so I- wait, SHE?"
"Ummmm..." The receptionist giggled, "Yeah. Where is she?
Ben turned his attention to the club badge on the wall to the side of him, it read: "LA Porcupines - Woman's Soccer Team' and sure enough the spiky mascot had a rather large pair of knockers.
"Oh..." Ben breathed heavy, choosing his words carefuly, "Yeah, I...."
The receptionist sighed, "You haven't brought a man have you?"
Ben nodded his head whilst looking down at his roughed up shoes in embaressment.
"Well... the coach certainly wont be happy with this."
"Won't be happy with what?" A large bearded man interrupted their awkward conversation.
"Oh Sir, I thought you were on lunch!"
"Pffft, lunch can wait - I want to meet my new superstar, where is she?"
Coach Harrison banged his fist against his desk in anger, as the two young men sat opposite him tried to stop themselves from pissing their pants.
"I can't believe you brought me a man! Why did I choose the cheapest agent in Hollywood!?"
"Because you're in soccer." Ben answered back in aggravation.
The coach sighed and conceded, "Yeah you've got me there, but now I can't afford to bring in another player!"
"And now I'm back to no clients again." Ben whimpered.
Ashley looked at the pair of sobbing blokes and rolled his eyes, "Well that does it, I'm heading back to England."
"Yeah good luck with that." Ben chuckled.
Ashley decided against asking what was so funny and instead opted to dash out of the run-down shed as fast as he possibly could.
Ashley approached the elderly woman behind the airport counter, "Hi one economy ticket to Heathrow thanks."
"Certainly Sir, let me just... Oh."
Ashley raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"It says here that you stated you were visiting the US on business for 3 years."
"Well yeah, but that was only because I was supposed to sign a 3 year contract until it fell through."
"Well I suggest you find another job because for the next 36 months you are not allowed back out of this country." The woman spoke with authority.
"What? Screw that, I'm going home!" Ashley legged it towards the X-ray machines with the cries for security coming from behind him.
After 17 hours of interrogation and anal probing, Ashley pushed open the motel door to find Ben sat on his microwave watching TV.
"Back already then?" He smirked.
Ashley let out a tired groan, "Airport security has really cranked up, I didn't even know that when they asked for the purpose of your visit it actually mattered what you said."
"Oh yeah dude, this is America you're in now - Paranoia capital of the world! What do you think has kept me in LA this long even though I'm such a failure here?"
Ashley let out a weak laugh as he curled up on top of the fridge, "Well it looks like I've got to find myself a job now to keep me going for the duration."
"And I've got the perfect one for you, which will satisfy everyone!"
25 years later...
"And that kids is the story of how, for three years, I became the greatest female soccer player in America."
"Oh shut up Dad, that can't be true."
"Yeah she's right," Brad ackonowleged his sister, Amy. "How would you have passed all the drug tests with a wang?"
"It's American Soccer son, there are no drug tests. Nobody gives a shit."
"Fair enough" Brad conceded, "Show us some pictures then if you really want to prove this baloney to us!"
The twins sat in shock as their adoptive father opened up a photo album filled with pictures of a young brunette girl kicking balls around.
"No. Way." Brad spoke, gobsmacked.
"Dad you look beautiful!" Amy cried.
"Haha thanks love. You know, I attracted a fair few Hollywood movie stars in my time there and even brought a record attendance to Porcupine Stadium on my final game for them." Ashley pointed towards the picture on the back of the album.
"Wow!" Brad exclaimed as he counted up the faces in the crowd, "17 people!"
"Did you hook up with any famous actors?" Asked a grinning Amy.
"Nah. I mean, I know every single Hollywood actor is gay but... there was only one man I had my eye on." Ashley turned to his husband, who was stood in the corner dressed in a top of the range suit.
Amy also looked over at Ben and smiled, "So was it in LA that you started dating then?"
"Oh no, that was when we spent a few years in Paris."
"Why where you in Paris?" Brad asked.
Ashley grinned, "Oh did you not know? I was a professional ballerina for six years, here let me show you the photo album!"
"What?!" The twins shouted in unison.
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