"Nice to finally meet you Stefan, and thankyou for telling me about Tony."
The 38 year old beamed. "It's my pleasure sir."
"Just call me Emile. Now let's get out of here and go see this Leese fella."
The pair got into the MGB and travelled down to Blundell Park, in the neighbouring town of Cleethorpes. It was 9 am, so Heskey was only just awake, but Stefan seemed very keen and eager.
"So Grimsby are holding a training session this morning, and I reckon there are about 20 scouts here to take a look at him."
"OK, so we need something special to lure him here."
"Simple," says Stefan. "Beat the other club's bids."
"Wait, you're telling me that clubs have already bid?!"
"Yep, most of the bids are around the £25,000 mark."
Heskey slammed his foot down. "Then we've got to act fast!"
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At Blundell Park, home of Grimsby Town, there was already a large group of around 50 people watching the training session. About 25 of them were locals, but there were also checkboards everywhere, and hurried conversations over the phone. Perhaps some clubs were going to try and go head to head with the clubs who had already bid. We were going to beat them.
"So, which one is Leese?" asked Heskey.
"See the real tall, lanky kid, over...there!"
"Ah yeah. Doesn't look to confident in this passing drill."
"Yeah, he's not the best technically at the moment but just wait."
And so the pair watched Leese train with his Grimsby teammates. During the passing, ball control and shooting drills he struggled, but then the team got onto headers.
"Holy christ Stefan, he's a beast!"
Then defending.
"Tackling needs a bit of work but damn he wants to win that ball back more than anyone!"
And finally, fitness.
"I think I've found the next Leyton Orient star Stefan."
"Excuse me, Paul!"
The Grimsby Town manager turned and saw the imposing figure of Heskey walking towards him. Paul Hurst seemed stressed, maybe from dealing with all the Leese interest, but Heskey was looking to make sure it all went away.
"Ah, Mr Emile Heskey, good to see you again."
"Yes, but the playing days are long gone. Time for a cushier job haha. Stefan, meet Paul Hurst."
The two shook hands. "Nice to meet you Mr Hurst."
Hurst sighed. "I'm not even going to ask what you're here for, but you've got a challenge. The chairman currently has 11 bids on his desk, and there are some very, very big teams interested in young Tony."
"I understand that, but I want this kid more than Liverpool fans want Suarez dead!" he exclaimed.
"Where the f**k did that metaphor come from?" said the laughing Hurst.
"Don't even worry, don't even worry. OK, I'm prepared to come out with a £40,000 bid for exclusive rights to Tony's contract."
Hurst seemed puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"As in, you accept my bid only, and only I get to talk with him. No one else."
"£52,000 and I'll organise the meeting for tonight."
Heskey looked over Stefan, who didn't seem to know what to say. "You know what. You've got yourself a deal."
The 2 managers shook hands, anxious for the fate of one young man- Tony Leese.
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"It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr Heskey," said Mrs Leese, a middle aged housewife who was clearly immensely proud of her prodigious son.
"Thankyou Mrs Leese, and thankyou for inviting us into your home."
"No, no please, don't fret love. Take a seat and I'll fetch you a cup of tea."
Heskey and Willis sat down as Mrs Leese yelled for her son. He emerged from upstairs, and Emile was immediately taken back by his height. He certainly didn't look as tall on the training ground, but Tony was almost 6 foot 4. And for a 16 year old he looked very strong as well.
"There's my darling boy," said Mrs Leese.
"Muuuuummm."
And there it was. Leese was definitely still just a teenage boy.
"Anthony stop whinging, we have a very important guest."
Leese's gaze turned to Heskey, who was smiling broadly.
"Tony, nice to meet you. My name's-"
"I know who you are ("Anthony, don't be so rude!"). You're Emile Heskey!"
Heskey laughed. "I am indeed."
Leese shook his hand vigorously. "Pleasure to meet you Mr Heskey, you're a real football legend! I remember watching you when I was a little kid."
"Yes, yes, don't make me feel too old now."
Mrs Leese intervened. "So Mr Heskey, what club do you play for?"
"I actually don't play anymore, I'm the manager of Leyton Orient now. I came here to sign your son for your team."
Mrs Leese almost dropped her tea. "But, but Anthony is only 16 years old! He has school to worry about, and he's not even playing for Grimsby yet!"
"Trust me Mrs Leese," said Heskey, looking over at Tony, "if your son stays at Grimsby this season he will be playing. A lot."
Tony's face turned a deep red.
"Say you were to sign my son. What would he do about school?"
"The chairman has assured me that Tony will attend the best private school in London, free of charge to you."
Mrs Leese still wasn't convinced however. "But what if I want to visit him?"
Stefan piped up. "Well you can come down to London whenever you like, and when Tony has weeks off he's welcome to spend them in Grimsby."
Sharon Leese looked resigned more than anything. She sighed. "I guess it's up to you then darling."
And needless to say Tony Leese was wearing the biggest grin of his life.
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