Posted Mon Apr 11, 2016 | 325 Words | Tagged story footie liverpool

Dylan was a bit of a nerd without much outside of his career going on. He didn’t have any interest apart from gaming and playing with a computer, no sports or anything.

That was until I had my hands on him. Filling him up with words spoken deep into him, he was to be a footie lad. He had to do everything to become the footie lad he now craved, needed to be.

He started to train in the gym a little, even getting a Liverpool footie top with his name on the back. Slowly the thought of sitting and playing video games became more and more of a bore to him. All he wanted was to be with the lads either in the gym or out on the pitch.

I managed to get him signed up to a local club. Helps once you’ve done it a few times and they’re used to training lads who don’t even watch the ball.

He started to smile more. He didn’t realise how little he smiled before. Dylan even started to swear, a little at first, climbing up to almost every sentence was filled with a swear.

I kept filling him with words to float around inside of him. He enjoyed who he was becoming, the lad I was shaping. I told him to get a haircut, it was about time that fucking fringe went.

Whenever he was a good lad, he got something in return. The words floating around made it so he loved the rewards of new kit, even some proper shorts as he was fitting them properly now.

I told him to leave his stubble grow in a little. He got his team to the top of the league table, calling him man of the match many times. I got him a tat on his arm for winning the local cup.

Dylan never looked back at who he was. Truly happy as a footie lad.