The World Cup Diaries

of Someone's Mum

2006 - 2010 - 2014…

Why on earth does a middle-aged midwife keep detailed personal diaries of World Cups? She’s not exactly a football fan, rather a fan of a footballer, her son. It had to be done.

The diaries began in 2006 when my family’s life changed forever - yes, my son had signed for a premiership club at the age of 16+, but it was the call up to the England World Cup squad that year just after he’d turned 17 that started my recording of that time; and it didn’t turn out at all as expected.

Much like England’s game in the semi-finals against Argentina this year (2026 - commiserations dear team) hopes were high and then dashed - I know this feeling. To give a flavour: 2006 my son was in the squad but never played: 2010 my son was instrumental in the qualifiers but was left out of the finals squad: 2014 my son was on form and sure to be in the squad, all agreed… when he got a devastating injury just months before.

(The actual tomes, vol I, II and III - no III only holds 2 pages of actual diary entries and an assortment of magazines)

Diary 2006/2010 - Lynn G Walcott

Introduction

30.12.2009

I feel utterly compelled to write a journal for the coming year, 2010 holds such promise for our family. It would be easy to confine the record to football, the obvious defining event of the year being the World Cup in South Africa, but I wish to make this a memory of my life, my experiences comparing 2006 and 2010.

In 2006 our family were thrust into the limelight when my youngest son, Theo was picked at the age of 17, to go with the England senior squad to Germany and the World Cup. But even before that, in January when Theo moved from Southampton FC to Arsenal FC, our lives changed dramatically. The whole family was to be affected by my 16 year old son’s talent on the football field.

As an independent midwife, I always keep a work diary, and so have a reference for what I did on a daily basis in 2006. My life, our lives are hugely different now in many ways. We have all benefitted from Theo’s success, and continue to do so, but there are, believe it or not negative aspects. I must admit that they may appear petty at times, but they are valid all the same.

I have a personal motto of ‘no regrets’ so whatever choices made in life, decisions made etc. I believe in accepting the consequences and moving on. With that in mind, I feel now as I felt before 2006, that I am an extremely lucky woman; life is indeed ‘good’ and I enjoy life more and more as I get older.

So, as New Year’s Eve approaches, I am full of anticipation and hope, as most people are, that the next year will be a good one.

I wrote continually daily until 28th May 2010… then there’s a gap, until on 11th June I write:

1.06.2010

So at last I can bring myself to write my daily diary after a roller coaster of emotions; Theo has not gone to the World Cup!

I’d written 369 pages by this point full of family life, hope and expectations - so now what? Well I continued, at least for a while, 440 pages in all, but what is interesting is how this first effort to write some type of ‘long form’ or memoir, I was starting to believe that perhaps there would be life after midwifery in writing. In my last entry of Vol II, I write ‘In the same way I AM a midwife, I want to BE a writer’.

But that was a strange time for me. I read what I wrote and barely recognise who I was then - but this was the year I changed, and midway through I wrote an article all about going from a size 22 to a size 12 in less than a year - unintentionally.

It was my first bit of paid work and I’ve shared a bit about previously here:

Later that World Cup year 2010, I would take the next step in my midlife evolution and decide to end my marriage of 28 years. In 2011 I would step into an entirely different life, newly divorced, new name and new man and by 2014 would be living on a small Scottish Island off grid. The timing was completely fortuitous after my 2014 attempt at another World Cup diary was curtailed following my son’s serious knee injury. It would be almost 6 years before I took the plunge at any long form writing seriously, when just before Covid, I embarked on the memoir Someone’s Mum. What that finally did for me, was cement the idea that I could write ‘a lot of words’ and not get bored. Five years, a Masters and a Doctorate later, and I’m 2/3rds into my creative fiction trilogy and thoroughly enjoying myself - I now can say ‘I AM a writer’.

Back to the World Cup diaries…

I’m trying to get a sense of who I was in 2006, but also 2010. The changes are stark, not just physically although there are precious few photos of me, but my focus - in 2006 it’s midwifery first, footy then family - in 2010 footy, but with a more reserved air, and midwifery features infrequently (I properly hang up my Pinard - Midwife’s tool for listening to foetal heart - in 2011) but family socials and dogs (mostly dogs) fill my days. There are photographs, newspaper cuttings, tickets for film premieres, and cards; this was the rich resource I mined for my memoir. Now I see it as a very personal record of an extraordinary time of my life and I’m happy to keep it and browse it from time to time when I’m feeling nostalgic - like during a World Cup.

I wrote the diaries concurrently, 2006 and 2010 side by side but the first volume is mostly about 2006 and the footy - Arsenal, World Cup in Germany - but the second volume is only 2010, for the obvious reason that my son didn’t go to that World Cup. But I’m glad I continued with the writing, it’s fascinating but very poorly written I judge now (but I share faithfully here). It has no reader in mind and is mostly simply a record of what was happening. I talk about what I wear, what I eat, where I go - tedious mostly - but that sense of a woman on the edge is ever present. I think it would make a great piece of research for a psychology student (not seriously offering, in case there are any takers out there).

I’ll end with a rather prescient partly redacted excerpt - do read to the end for the subconscious intention that I have now manifested!

11.01.2006

Only one visit today… [I’m referencing a midwifery appointment] …but it is an important day for the family.

In the evening [XXXX] from Theo’s management company … come round for an important meeting. It’s all about Theo transferring to another club. Up until this point there has been the press speculation, the transfer window is open, but no actual decision made. Tonight Theo instructs his agent where he wants to go. He could go just about anywhere it is clear; Liverpool, Manchester, Chelsea, Arsenal, Spurs. [XXXX] is keen on Spurs, Martin Yol is there and he thinks that he would be particularly good for a young player like Theo. They both like Liverpool, and Benitez, but we pretty much dismiss this as too far, as is Manchester. Theo is 16 and it would mean a massive change, moving the family so far is not pheesable, and the idea of Theo going alone is not even considered. So it has to be a London club, really then. Theo listens quietly to what they have to say about each club, and then simply says that he wants to go to Arsenal because of the way they play and Arsene Wenger. He’s quite clear, and certain, he has obviously given it some thought although not really said anything to anyone else. So that’s it, decision made, Arsenal it is.

But the world of football is so ridiculous. You are not allowed to meet your future employer until you have signed - there are strict rules. But it doesn’t stop us, as parents getting knobbled. Chelsea people phone my husband up on more than one occasion … We were never tempted - it is always about the football.

But over the years as l’ve met more football parents, what has amazed me is how many are seduced in this way - so many have accepted favours and cash from clubs to influence their sons. I find this all very distasteful. But at some point, we did meet Arsene Wenger. I don’t remember when, but I know that it was a secret meeting at the training ground, and it was just me and Don. The first words Mr. Wenger said to us were so funny: “I’ve wanted your boy for a long time”! It all seems so silly that we were breaking the rules - talking about Theo to another club’s manager - on the other hand, we are not employed by any club or Theo, so technically it wasn’t a problem. Anyway - Theo made his own decision as always - we couldn’t have influenced him even if we’d tried. So now the heat is on - but it’s all a secret - we musn’t tell anyone until the deal is done. This is hard. Theo has to carry on going to the lodge at Southampton, training with his friends, and he can’t say a word. But we know it won’t be long, the transfer window closes at the end of the month. We just have to be patient, trust [XXXX} and co to do their jobs, and wait. At this point we have only been with [that management company - aka Agent] a year or so. Now, it is easy to trust them with everything. They really have looked after Theo well. Then, everything was new and we didn’t have a clue how ‘big’ this all was. It wouldn’t be long before we found out…

11.01.2010

…In the evening I relented and watched whatever [husband] had on the TV - only football, Man City v Blackburn - a bit boring, even for [him] so he flicked around the channels looking for something more interesting. I stopped him on a programme on BBC+, about Diarists. How very serendipidous or is it synchronous? Synchronicity is around me all the time, I agree with Jung on this, it is a fabulous theory. That for the first time ever I see a program about writing of diaries, found so accidentally, when I have myself just embarked on one is amazing. I was totally fascinated. They went through famous diaries such as those of Virginia Woolf, Anne Frank, even fictional ones of Adrian Mole and Bridget Jones. They spoke to authors and others who have written diaries. They had Kathy Lette, and the woman who writes the Tracy Beaker books (still can’t remember her name); she had published a diary written when she was 14. The programme, presented by Marilla Frostrupp, discussed how it is often a teenage obsession, when we are most concerned with ourselves before we mature. I certainly wrote diaries when I was that age - I still have the one I wrote at 13 complete - in storage. I wish I had it here now. They talked about why people do diaries, what makes a good one etc. the consensus being that truth was important, writing as though no one else would read it. People want to say was ‘I was here’ leave a legacy apparently. So l asked myself, why am I writing this? Today I would say it’s for practice, I want to learn to write. It’s for habit, writers write every day. What else? I feel I missed out on recording my wonderful year in 2006 properly, despite much of it being in the papers. So I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss such an opportunity again. It was great to hear the extracts and opinions on how to write a good diary. I just hope that I can see the difference in my writing at the end of the year.

Already, I write more, not always good, verbal diarrhea and all that, but good habits all the same. As well as the course I started before Christmas, I have enquired with ‘Queenbee’, a group of women writers, a founder being a previous client of mine,… they have courses too. I will also be meeting with [XXXX] soon from Random house - I think she’s a literary agent or lawyer or something - whatever, she’s a woman that I get on with and she’s a great contact in the industry. I’m feeling more and more exited at the prospect of writing, even if it’s just for my own pleasure. But I do have a bit of a desire to write a regular column - just where I can comment on anything I like, and again, I think it would be a good way to regularly write whilst I’m creating that novel...

It took 16 years and 6 months, but I got there. What can I say except that ‘I AM a midwife, I’m patient’ and finally, I AM a writer now too.

Bonus picture - here is how my son saw his life panning out when he was at school.

(He published this first in his memoir, so I’m not revealing any secrets).

Much like I shared previously (link below) there’s a sadness in the unrealised dreams, but also it is a reflection of the incredible imagination and hope that children have. My son wanted to be a professional footballer and he did it - most boys with the same dream don’t. He, like me, I believe is ever grateful even if things don’t always work out as we expect.

(I’ve written this before the play off between England and France - I sincerely hope that dreams are realised rather than dashed and the team achieve that best placement since 1966.)