The Diary of Captain Canary: Part 6
I haven’t been outside for a month now. The darkness in this room is like the darkness in the depths soul. I’d been down for a while, but this is a new low.
It was before a game. Grant was doing the rounds, getting everyone fired up. And I mean everyone, even Brenda the tea lady gets a chest bump and a high five. She makes cracking tea. Anyway he came to me and tried to get me going. I just felt numb. Eventually he gave me a few friendly digs in the ribs, and I just saw red. Everything went dark. The next thing I knew I’m looking at Grant and his eye is swelling up.
He wasn’t angry. He was just disappointed, and that was far worse. He shook his head and turned away.
Since then, I’ve locked myself away. I bet no one’s noticed. They’ve just got a temp in to fill in for me. I feel so pathetic and useless. I sometimes wonder whether those four years at the Mascot Academy were real. For god’s sake, I got to the rank of Captain didn’t I? Have I nothing to show for my service to the club and country?
I haven’t watched any TV or read anything, and I’ve got no idea what’s going on outside. The isolation has given me the most vivid daydreams. I dreamt about a double-decker bus parked on the pitch at Stamford Bridge, Fernando Torres taking home a match ball and Simon Lappin stalking defenders at Colney, taking them out one by one…
I’ve got to shake myself out of this, but I don’t know how.
Any suggestions, diary?
I thought not.
I’ve just received a letter, Adam Drury wants me to play in the testimonial! This is amazing, this is just what I need.
It’s odd that Ads has spelt ‘testimonial’ wrong. And his own name. And appears to have put Marc Tierney upfront, twice.
I’d better start training!