My Life, My Chelsea story – Part 2

I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. I wrestled with my pillow and rolled in bed. I struggled to even close my eyes for a few minutes and then the rays of sunshine entered my room.

I woke up, put on my sneakers and close the door behind me.

As I entered the lobby, there was an unusual buzz in the atmosphere. Awkward sounds of clicking outside the front door. I left my key in the reception and walked out.

Flashes of white light filled my eyes. There were reporters everywhere. The front guard assisted me to the private garage.

” So Daniel will you be moving to London? “
“What can you tell us about your move? “
” Hey Daniel, hey !”

“Sorry, sorry can’t say anything at the moment” , I replied as I brushed them aside and went down the garage. Closing the door behind me, I found my agent standing next to his car. “Get in quick” .

I walked into his Porsche without a word.

He kept checking some papers as I dreamily looked out the window. I had no idea where we were going and I let it be that way.

Then finally , he spoke –

” Every pre-season Chelsea travel to Asia or America but this year it is in London , where they welcome 6 other teams to Stamford Bridge ” – he began. ” Lampard, Drogba, Torres, Terry, Hazard, Mikel…. ” “Daniel” and he chuckled and patted me in the back. I found myself suddenly smiling.

  4 Premier League titles
  7 FA Cups
  4 League Cups
1 European Cup Winners Cup
1 European Cup”

“They have done it all and I guess you need no introduction. Ah, there’s the airport. Stop driver ! “

We got out and he hands me a small envelope.

“Your tickets, visa and passport in here. Flight’s in 2 hours”

I nodded and we walked in. Thankfully there were no reporters. That did not stop the tourists from taking my autograph as a group of young teenage Barcelona supporters approached me. I couldn’t break it to them that I was leaving right?

I could only smile back when they told me they were eager to see me back at Camp Nou. They even waved their season tickets at me.

Apologetically telling that I had to catch my flight, I ran over to gate 17, made sure no Catalonians were watching and walked through the automatic doors.

As I sat on my seat, I found my fingers shivering. Excitement or fear, I did not know. I don’t remember how long the flight was but I believe it lasted for 6 long hours as I battled with the negative thoughts crawling through my brain.

My head felt heavy as the wheels of the plane hit the smooth runway.

“First time in London?” asked the smiling air hostess as she brought my coat. “Kind-off” I replied while thanking her.

“Let me guess, for pleasure?” she questioned me slyly.

“Erm… business to be honest. I play football.” I hesitantly replied. It wasn’t the brightest of ideas to leak my transfer story to the air hostess of British Airways.

“Well have a nice day sir” she smiled and said while leading me to the exit. I exchanged goodbyes and walked down the stairway.

The London climate sent chills down my spine. I had no complaints about training in this weather for hours !

I looked up as the sun came down. I was just praying that everything went good. I had no intention of disappointing the people that put their hopes in me.

Heathrow airport was busier than usual which was probably because I was eager to get out from there. After everything had been cleared, my agent called a cab and we were on our way to Cobham.

I don’t recollect what exactly happened on the way as my eyes closed on its own. After about a 2 hour ride we reached Cobham in a sunny London weather. There was a sense of calmness mixed with a little desperation as there was about 8 hours left on the transfer dead-line day.

End of Part 2.

You can read Part 1 here .

Sherry Philips (@bluebloodSherry), Deputy Editor