familiar sight during matches: short, overweight and with a temper. Managing Kinbridge Town

mainly out of friendship for the new owners, he didn’t promise to perform an overnight miracle. Being

a man with vision, Arnaud Degaré was able to envision the future. He promised that future would be

bright, and he delivered. But then something happened even he couldn’t have predicted. And he rose to

this challenge as well, staying true to his word about building a team eager to win instead of a bunch

of individuals afraid to lose. After the unimaginable attack on right back Steve Gavan, Degaré’s first

acquisition for the club, he didn’t allow even one single day to pass without a member of the

Kinbridge Town family visiting their two team-mates, with captain Matthew Kirkby setting a new

standard for leadership and, above all, true friendship. There are persistent rumours about players

wanting to leave when the next transfer window opens, but no one stayed away when it mattered most.

Anyone taking a close look at this club can’t be surprised about their current eighth position in the

league.’”

“Yeah, that’s the gaffer and the skipper all right.” He kisses Dan’s cheek. “Thanks for reading.

And now I want to hear about you.”

Daniël blushes. “That’s embarrassing ...”

“So they have written something really nice? Point it out to me, I want to try and read it for

myself. Please?”

“Well, okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you ...”

Letter for letters and then word for words, Steve, with a bit of help from Daniël, slowly reads,

“‘In a time of cheap thrills and fast sex, a man who looks like a boy barely old enough to be away

from home without his mum and dad, is showing us all a lesson about love, trust and faith.’”

“Told you, embarrassing ...”

Steve closes his boy’s mouth with a kiss, but doesn’t say a word.

He stares a moment at the photos of him and Daniël. Their heads close together. Holding hands

while standing in the parking spot, talking with Degaré and Matthew.

“What do you see?”

“Us?”

“Here’s what one of the gay fans says about the press conference,” Daniël points at a section of

one of the papers. A big bloke in his thirties with a round face, wearing the Kinbridge Town red-andblack

home shirt is smiling directly at the readers.

Daniël starts to read aloud, “‘I’ve been a Kinbridge Town fan since my dad took me to my first

match when I was seven. I don’t just watch for the pretty boys. Although, we do have some fit players.

Hey, I’m only human. But I do love the game, support the team no matter what and I can talk with the

best of them about strategies. Never miss a home game. All my mates know about me. Not one of

them ever said anything nasty about that. But I’ve also felt an outsider for as long as I can remember.

Of course I miss that there’s never even one openly gay player in the whole premier league, but that’s

not even the main problem. The lads have to decide that for themselves. But the ones higher up saying

fans wouldn’t accept it. Now that hurts, because of what it says about my mates and me. Like all

straight fans are the same and gay fans don’t even exist. I saw the press conference. Is this what

everybody has been so afraid of? Two guys in love? Daniël and especially Steve paid a horrible price

for a minority of scumbags who don’t want to be confronted with the so-called ‘our kind’, and a

majority who doesn’t stand up to them.’”

“It sounds like it means a lot to that man, us telling our story,” Steve says.

“I can sympathise with that. But this other guy, telling that it’s a pity we are not more political

and should become part of a campaign...I just want to live in peace with my man, be a professional

player for the next ten years and that’s it. They already know our faces, our names; they’ve seen us

holding hands in public. I’ve written how I feel about you in my blog. What more do they want?”

Daniël puts the papers aside. It has been enough for one day.

Steve takes his lover’s face between his hands and kisses him on the lips. “Make an official

declaration, be at the centre of something much bigger than you and me simply having fallen in love.

It’s not important what they want. Not for us. Not at this moment. I want you to train hard and do the

things you’re born to do.”

Daniël smiles and kisses Steve back. “Making love to you at least once a day?”

“You won’t hear me complaining about that.” Steve licks a trace over Daniël’s lips.

“I’ll make some fresh tea with a small, snack just like the doctor ordered.”

Minutes later, they sit on the couch, enjoying their tea and a good helping of fresh fruit pie.

When they’re done, Steve lets himself be surrounded by Daniël’s arms. He listens.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to understand what’s been taken from you. You were so sad

and devastated when you saw a video of yourself during that press conference.”

“How can love be this blind?” Steve can’t help the question.

“It isn’t. I’m not. I see the damage. Believe me; I have seen the very worst of it. Day after day,

I see the struggle, the pain and the exhaustion, the results that seem so small for all the work you’ve

done, the setbacks. I see how much time you need to get the words from your brain to your mouth.”

Steve listens with his full attention.

“I remember the man I fell in love with on the training pitch of Kinbridge Town. And I will

keep on loving him until the day I die, even though I know he’s gone forever. But I also remember the

man surrendering to death, but who didn’t die. I remember the man who woke up, who’s fighting so

hard to learn to talk again, and walk again. I love that man so much. That is what I saw when I

watched that video yesterday.”

Words like a fortress, protecting his beloved from an enemy that will likely never cease to

attack him; nothing but love and paper-thin words against fear and doubt and frustration.

“Promise me to walk away when your love changes into pity.”

Daniël doesn’t sound shocked in the least; his stronghold is still standing. “There isn’t a

chance in hell of that ever happening. You bet I’ll be frustrated sometimes when I’m out for a run and

I know you can’t run with me. I’ll be sad when I play my next match and you won’t be there with me

on the pitch, and never will be. Who knows, I might even be pissed off with you just because I’m in a

pissed off mood and feel like taking it out on you. But pity?”

“But you promise me? Please, Danny?”

“If it should come to that, what good would it do me to walk away?”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word quitting, now do you?” It’s impossible for Steve to

hide his smile.

“When it comes to you? No way.” Daniël holds Steve a bit tighter in his arms. “And before you

start thinking I’m not only ready for sainthood, I’m also unbelievably wise for my age, it’s nothing

like that at all. I had a lot of time, sitting next to your bed or walking around in the corridors to get

coffee or whatever. People talked to me. People like nurses, doctors, the gaffer, mum and dad, old

folks who walked in and out of the hospital to visit their husbands or wives and saw me. And if an

eighty year old lady with a marriage of over 50 years is giving me some good advice, you bet I’m

smart enough to listen.”

“It did hurt so much seeing myself. To know this is what you love.” Steve’s voice is barely

audible. He doesn’t expect Daniël to make it better for him, but still the words have to leave his

mouth. They have to be spoken and heard.

Daniël holds him in his arms, not saying anything for minutes.