Someone's Mum

Growing Up... Fast.

Someone’s Mum is the working title of my unpublished memoir which last night, in Polly Clark’s excellent Hour Club I shared an excerpt with the group for our Christmas Party open mic night. (If you aren’t already a part of this Monday night writing group then you’re missing out; everyone who attends gets writing done every week and it is the only reason I’ve started sharing my work on Substack - thank you Polly Clark.) My contribution was well received so I thought I’d share it here. A version of this extract was published in Love Lifespan Vol. 4.

• paperback – https://bit.ly/Lovepback

• ePub – https://bit.ly/LoveePub

• Kindle – https://bit.ly/LoveKin

Growing Up… Fast.

The late summer evening is balmy, clear, and the stars are beginning to twinkle in the sky; the light muted with orange tones merging into the blue reminiscent of a Maxfield Parrish painting. I’m standing on a large sweeping balcony that cantilevers from the hillside, the opulent hotel to which it belongs stretches out as far as the eye can see either side of me, and its fairy-tale towers dominate above. The building is white, lit up like a Christmas tree and I gaze at the shimmering scene below, the town of Baden Baden. It’s quiet now as I stand here alone at last, just a few people are sat talking at the tables behind me, most having retreated to the hotel bars; I can breathe. It is 2006 and the whole family is here for the finals of the Football World Cup. My son, a quiet seventeen-year-old boy is in the team.

Theo has been thrust into the centre of the footballing industry this year when he moved from Southampton FC to Arsenal FC and became the most expensive sixteen-year-old in the Premiership. Now, with the shock selection into the England team by Sven Goran Erikson, this attention, this baptism of fire means that he must grow up. Coincidently, in only five years, he will have published a biography called: Theo: Growing Up Fast – describing the phenomenon that is at this time, still my child, not yet a man, who is the fastest player there is on the pitch, and by eighteen years old, a millionaire mixing with the rich and famous. Yes. He had to grow up fast. In retrospect, that was the day that I truly realised this. How did that happen?

Earlier that evening after eating, Theo had shown me around the place, this whole hotel an exclusive, press-free zone for the team to relax. He showed me his room, luxurious but small, he was after all, number 23, the last squad number, way down the pecking order. This is another of his records; he was the first number 23, previously there had only been twenty-two in the squad for World Cups. I rather like this number, it was his Arsenal (and previously Southampton) number in reverse, 32. One day, he would be the coveted number 14 at Arsenal once Thierry Henry left. Today (March 2021) he is again wearing a 32 shirt at Southampton and he still holds the record as the youngest ever scorer of a hat trick for the England team.

That night he showed me a mini, Sony video camera, state of the art then, one of the many freebies companies had given to every member of the squad, hoping for endorsement. The premise was to record a kind of video diary. Being only seventeen, Theo was up for this, and he shared a few clips with me of him interviewing other team members. It was such a delightful insight. As I had witnessed that night, everyone there was actually ordinary at heart, even the Beckhams - just a family enjoying a bar-b-q. Theo was very good keeping up his filming throughout the competition, even, as we saw later, much, much later, when things didn’t turn out as planned.

I remember very well the moment that Theo’s destiny changed in that World Cup. We had been made aware that Theo was not there as a token member to gain only experience, but that he was there to take part; Sven had every intention of playing him at some point. But the game when that intention changed was clear, as far as I was concerned, it was the game in Cologne against Sweden.

The moment Michael Owen went down injured, and Sven was forced to change his original plan, the moment he didn’t substitute Owen with my son, I knew he’d bottled it. He had a plan to put Theo in a later game, but he didn’t trust enough to put Theo on sooner in an emergency. I visibly slumped in my seat. Theo’s dad, Don was shouting…of course, he always shouts at games like everyone else, but he was thinking the same as me. He went from the full-on hope of… “here’s his chance… play Theo… play Theo…” to “…coward…(insert any string of expletives you wish here, he probably used them)…gutless…” and so on… and that was that. I’d like to say that luckily, Theo had no idea, but Sven had put him in the picture earlier on in the competition, and as time wore on, and Theo didn’t get even a minute of play… well… Theo’s video reflects this more than any words could.

We were only ever allowed to watch this World Cup video diary once, months later, one winter evening. All of us reluctant, Theo especially. But we needed to witness Theo’s pain, I felt. I’m pretty sure it was my nagging that led to the small private premiere and only showing, in Theo’s little snug TV room. For me it was like when he took a penalty; Don especially used to say “I can’t watch”, but I always said that if he’s got to take it, we’ve got to watch it; our way of being there for him, bearing witness. So, we watched… and at first it is sweet, cheery, a boy’s dreams and hopes of playing on the world stage, optimistic, full of belief, right there - my son’s innocent and trusting face shining out. But as the video continues, you see that sunny disposition wavering, until it just sort of dims and becomes a silent movie. I left the room for a good cry in private afterwards. Theo was being brave, but that film has never seen the light of day again, as far as I know.

Yes – he grew up that year – very fast.

Ref: Theo: Growing Up Fast (2011) Theo Walcott, Bantam Press