by M Koleosho
lot of respect for them that day and I am not sure they can ever regain it. They sullied the game I loved and it pains me to have been a part of such an ugly spectacle.
Whatever their plan was, it worked as they were able to score two goals in the first half. It seemed they were trying to get us of our game and were doing a good job of it. We were too busy complaining and falling for their tricks to implement our usual style of play. I scored in the 41st minute of play, so going into the half we were only one goal down. Unfortunately for us, they were able to score another goal in the 50th minute which pretty much sealed our fate. I managed to score a goal in the 80th minute, but it was too little too late. They scored another, five minutes later, putting the final nail to the coffin. We went home heads slumped that day. It was not a good showing and we wanted nothing more than to put it behind us.
Just as I was beginning to warm up to Russia, my new found love for the country would only be so fleeting. Offers from abroad were beginning to trickle in, and soon one so tempting would come in that I had no choice but to accept.
I never thought I’d leave Russia the way I did. My belief up until then was that I’d renew my contract with the team and play for them for a few more years. It never occurred to me that the teams that had spurned me a while back would be monitoring my process so closely. Imagine my surprise when Hector called to inform me of a bidding war going on in the transfer market for my services.
It was bittersweet, knowing these teams thought I was worth haggling over, yet I was sad realizing I was about to leave yet another family behind.
That seemed to be the one constant in my life nowadays; open up, build new relationships only to leave them to go do the same thing all over again. I made it clear to Hector, that unless the deal was mind blowing, I had no intention of leaving Russia.
We bid our time. Waiting for the offers to trickle in, looking for the right opportunity to pounce. Meanwhile I continued to enjoy my experience in my new home. Learning more about the people whilst embracing their culture. I couldn’t believe just how much had changed for me now that I was more emotionally invested. Never let your fear of change prevent you from moving forward, a lesson that I will hold from now to the grave.
With only three games to go, I had scored 15 goals and was only three goals away from catching up to the league’s top scorer. As proud as I was of my individual growth, I was ecstatic about the team battling its way into position for European competition.
Playing in Europe was and still remains a big deal to most teams. It provides much needed cash and it also exposes the brand to a bigger audience. One good season in Europe could change the fortunes of a team for good!
Ideally we would have loved to play in the champion’s league, but the top two teams in our league were too far ahead for us to catch up to. No one expected us to do as well as we currently were, but it also didn’t mean we would settle for less. Regardless, we were ending the season on the right note, and though at the back of my mind, the thought kept creeping up that this might be my last time playing for the club, I never let it dissuade me from putting forth my best. Tomorrow would take care of itself; living in the moment was what I cared about.
“You are going to Milan” an excited Hector had said. His voice still as clear as I had heard it that fateful day. The room felt like it was spinning, and I thought some sick joke was being played on me.
I yelled at whoever was trying to prank me to get off the phone and slammed it down with much annoyance. Thankfully, it really was Hector and he quickly called back to reaffirm what he had just said. All of a sudden I felt weak to my knees. You would think such news would excite me and truthfully it did, but the initial reaction was more of shock. AC Milan wasn’t even on my radar; never thought they fancied me, couldn’t fathom playing for them.
It was a storied football club, one well known all over the world. I didn’t think they’d want anything to do with someone like me, yet here was Hector telling me I was going to play for them. He told me to sit right that he’d be in Russia by the weekend to give me the right documents to sign and also clean up some loose ends with my present club.
I tried not to get overly excited, after all nothing was set in stone yet. There was also the unfortunate issue of how to handle leaving a place I had come to like and a new-found family that had embraced me so effortlessly. I was surprised at how emotional I was becoming considering I hated my first few months here. As the count down to my departure loomed and approached at a ridiculously fast rate, I began to get nervous about starting over again in a new country.
I was going to a much bigger club with a tradition that placed it in the pantheons of soccer greats. I couldn’t afford to disappoint, all eyes would be on me. Despite my excitement at my good fortune, I still had a job to finish in Russia and I tried my best to set aside the distractions till after the season.
We were in a dog fight to get into position for a European championship berth. Whilst it became clear that we would not be winning our league title, there was still hope that we could finish in the top 3 and guarantee a spot in Europe the following year. The focus on this came as a God send, allowing me to divert my attention to the task at hand.
Thankfully we were able to meet our goal. After what seemed like a grueling end to the season, we snatched the third spot on the last day of the season with an overtime win against the lowliest club in the league.
I could come out and say the win was disappointing, we exerted a lot of energy, and were frustrated times without number as every opportunity at goal seemed to be squandered. Yet we eked out the win and we got what we wanted.
I’ll be excited to watch these guys in Europe; they’ve been able to build quite a solid team since my departure. Some of the players were purchased from the money the club recouped from my sale. I’d like to think my contributions are lasting, even without being a member of the team anymore. I am sad I won’t be part of their future plans but maybe our paths will cross yet again, maybe I will don their colors once more. As of my telling this, such hasn’t been the case. Regardless I will always hold that place dearly in the castle of my memories. It was a necessary stop to mold me into who I am now. For that I will always cherish the time I spent there.
The Rossoneri as they are fondly called in Milan are a passionate sometimes rabid fan base that treats their local sports team as some do religion. It’s a city and a people steeped in tradition and it’s only befitting that their team happens to be one of the most storied franchises in the world.
I had never received the type of reaction I did on arriving in Milan. The airport was packed with throngs of fans. Most in the famous red and black stripes of AC Milan. The shocker was how many of them had my name on the back of their jerseys. I was their priced get for that year and they made sure to let me know that. Placards and signs all over the room indicated just how much the Rossoneris treasured their new possession. I was more than overwhelmed with the outpouring of love. It felt like something out of a movie.
It didn’t stop at just the airport. Even at the hotel where I would be staying, fans lined the streets and converged on the foyer, chanting my name excitedly. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. People all over the city, reaching out to me at every chance they got. Welcoming me to their town, taking me on as one of theirs.
I immediately warmed up to Milan. Not only was it a beautiful city, but the people made me feel like I was born and raised there. I was even more awed when I walked into the San Siro, my new home and what would be the site for many a memorable moment for me.
Words cannot begin to describe the sense of awe that gripped me the very first time I walked into one of the most acclaimed stadia in the world. I had a similar feeling when I visited Arsenal’s stomping ground. It’s almost as if history is speaking to you through the walls, ghosts of former players and champions, acknowledging you as one of their own.
The likes of Clarence Seedorf, Ruud Gullit, Marco Van Basten and Frank Rijkaard have all made their
marks here, and that’s just their Dutch Contingency. Zlatan Ibrahimovic, George Weah, Robinho, Paolo Maldini, Franco Baresi, Filippo Inzaghi just to name a few are some of the other world class players to have plied their trades here. In fact when you scroll through the lists of those who have worn the jersey, it’s like a who’s who in football history.
Yes it humbled me. I had big shoes to fill, hoping that one day they’d mention me in the same sentence as some of those guys. Looking out into the sea of faces that had come to celebrate my arrival. Receiving the jersey with my name and number on it from the club president only helped to solidify what felt like a dream. I truly was a Milan player, something I never fathomed could happen a few years ago.
There and then I made up my mind that my name would be uttered in the same sentences as the greats and on favorable terms too. I was going to rise to the occasion and surpass whatever expectations were set for me. I had an eye on making history, nothing was going to stop me.
I got off to quite a start with my new club. In fact, in my first three games I scored six goals, including a game winner in the third game. Euphoria does not begin to describe just how elated I was about my start. I was playing for