Growing up in the UK, football wasn’t just a sport for me—it was practically a second language. From the moment I could kick anything remotely round, I imagined myself walking out of the tunnel at Wembley with thousands chanting my name. Today, as a professional footballer, I realise the real journey isn’t the ninety minutes on the pitch—it’s the life that surrounds it.
Most days start painfully early. Training sessions, physio, tactical analysis—it’s a routine built around constant improvement. But honestly, that’s the part I love. There’s something beautiful about waking up knowing your only job is to get better at what you love. Some days that means hitting top bins repeatedly; other days it means understanding why you didn’t.
The pressure, though, isn’t something people see on TV. In British football, expectations are enormous—club history, fans’ passion, and the national obsession all wrap around you like a weight you’re expected to carry gracefully. There are matches where a single mistake sticks with you for weeks. And trust me, Twitter doesn’t forgive easily.
Yet, there are moments that make everything worth it—walking into a packed stadium, hearing the roar just before kickoff, scoring a late winner, or even assisting a teammate and watching the crowd erupt. Those seconds live in your body forever.
But off the pitch, I’m just another lad navigating life. My downtime is filled with family dinners, mates from childhood, and cups of tea strong enough to stand a spoon in. The life of a player may look glamorous, but it’s really a disciplined routine held together by passion.
Lately, I’ve learned football isn’t just about medals or transfers—it’s about personal growth. You learn resilience after losses, humility in victory, and loyalty toward teammates who become like brothers.
Every time I lace up my boots, I remember that little kid in the backyard dreaming with a £5 ball. That memory still motivates me more than any signing bonus. Football, for me, isn’t a career—it’s my identity, my culture, and the soundtrack of my life.