Saturday night derby
Eighteen games into the season and Salford City is unstoppable. They trounced league winners Manchester United 4-3 last night in front of a packed home crowd. The small city wore a deserted look on saturday night as folks jostled into the 20,000 seater stadium in the north west corner of the city. The stadium, also called Uncle harry's meadow saw plenty of excitement as Salford equalized thrice and finally seized the game in the injury time.
Nani with two brilliant free kicks and Hernandez netted the third, but the home hero and this year's leading scorer Wayne Rooney banged in four goals, each of them a minute after every red score.
Unbeaten Run
This little "Cinderella" Manchester club has been riding solely on the success of 25 year old Wayne Rooney. Thanks to Wayne, the Club has climbed three divisions in the last three years and entered this season into the premier league and the city and the press just can't raving about Wayne.
The townsfolk just love this kid. "I know Wayne, he'll never leave this town", says the ageing caretaker of the club ground. "Wayne is our hero", says the Graffiti on this wall and the next we drive past and then we realize, all of them. The local Sir Francis catholic school even has a morning prayer called, "We'll be like Wayne."
So, how is Wayne dealing with all this adulation?
Wayne
Next we go to Wayne's house. A mile drive from the city outskirts into the woods and we reach a secluded lawn covered on all sides by dark forests and in the middle stood the two storey-ed building. All peace and quite. Transparent glass for a wall on the first floor, statues of unicorns in his lawn, a small freshly dug pond with mud still strewn around its edges. Lives alone. Grew up in this very house after his parents died or so he believed.
"There is something wrong", the first thing he says; looks blankly out the glass wall.
"What?", we ask, "things couldn't have been better."
"I've never told this to anyone before but I have to tell someone or I'll go crazy."
"Please go ahead! We'll understand", we lean forward, rapt attention. A dog barks in the distance breaking the afternoon stillness.
"I.....", he pauses, hesitating, "I never really touch the ball. I mean, like when I shoot, the ball moves before my boot hits it. It's like the ball isn't really there", he looks at us, "you understand what I am saying?"
We nod, trying out various possibilities in our minds. All that loneliness and the sudden adulation might have taken a toll on the kid's head.
