There was a loud thud on my door. "Get your arse out of bed! We have training boy!" a grizzly voice bellowed. I jumped up and rub my eyes as I tried to adjust to the light of morning. "Come on Aero! You'll get nowhere in life if you don't get up and run towards what you want!" he continued shouting. "Kevin...it's too early to start being hard on him again." I heard mother say behind the door.
My dad had a crazy way of doing things, but he was right. I needed to get up and get going. Today he was making me run for 15 miles then we would work on my heading and put in more work on my passing which was coming along better. He wanted me to be a more complete player and ready for my trial with local club Fraserburgh which would take place in a week.
As they both quietly argued what the considered to be "hard" behind the door, I slipped out of bed and started getting ready. As customary on training days with dad, I measured my heigh and weight to see if I was bulking up. I was only 16 but dad said I needed to have the strength of a 30 year old, mentally and physically, to make it big. Next I slipped on my now tattered `98/`99 full Manchester United kit. That was a legendary season for my favourite club and wearing the kit always gave me an extra boost. One that I needed today. I grabbed my shoes and looked in the mirror. My dark brown eyes looked back at me and I could see the hunger. From the top of my curly brown covered crown all the way down to the curve of my big toe.
Unfortunately, this hunger was literal as much as it was figurative and I opened the door to my parents. "Morning you too!" I said with a beaming smile. "5ft 10 and 156 points dad," I told him my measurements before heading off to the kitchen.
"See? You've created a monster," my mum said to him. Thought I wasn't looking at her, I knew she was smiling and shaking her head in response to his grin. He loved seeing me this prepared and ready.
--
Later that day, I laid exhausted on the grass of the local field. I could barely feel my limbs. It was another long and arduous day trainingwith dad and I certainly felt the burn and so much more. "What's your name boy?" my dad asked as he dropped to sit beside me. "Aaron Norris," I responded through my heavy breathing. "Repeat it. What's your name?" he again asked. "Aaron Norris!" I shouted with confidence. "That's my boy. Know your name. Say it with belief and someday, you'll hear them signing it from the stands!" he shouted.
That was our ritual. Everyday after training he would make me shout my name. My dad wanted me to have a long and successful career. Kevin Norris, 40 year old roofing service manager who gre up right here in Mintlaw. He was pretty good at what he did, although in his youth he played semi-professiona for Fraserburgh and was their top goal-scorer in the 2011/2012 season. He married my mother, Pamela, when they were both 22 and they had 6 kids together. My father knew I wanted to play football. He was now living his dreams through me.
My dad had a crazy way of doing things, but he was right. I needed to get up and get going. Today he was making me run for 15 miles then we would work on my heading and put in more work on my passing which was coming along better. He wanted me to be a more complete player and ready for my trial with local club Fraserburgh which would take place in a week.
As they both quietly argued what the considered to be "hard" behind the door, I slipped out of bed and started getting ready. As customary on training days with dad, I measured my heigh and weight to see if I was bulking up. I was only 16 but dad said I needed to have the strength of a 30 year old, mentally and physically, to make it big. Next I slipped on my now tattered `98/`99 full Manchester United kit. That was a legendary season for my favourite club and wearing the kit always gave me an extra boost. One that I needed today. I grabbed my shoes and looked in the mirror. My dark brown eyes looked back at me and I could see the hunger. From the top of my curly brown covered crown all the way down to the curve of my big toe.
Unfortunately, this hunger was literal as much as it was figurative and I opened the door to my parents. "Morning you too!" I said with a beaming smile. "5ft 10 and 156 points dad," I told him my measurements before heading off to the kitchen.
"See? You've created a monster," my mum said to him. Thought I wasn't looking at her, I knew she was smiling and shaking her head in response to his grin. He loved seeing me this prepared and ready.
--
Later that day, I laid exhausted on the grass of the local field. I could barely feel my limbs. It was another long and arduous day trainingwith dad and I certainly felt the burn and so much more. "What's your name boy?" my dad asked as he dropped to sit beside me. "Aaron Norris," I responded through my heavy breathing. "Repeat it. What's your name?" he again asked. "Aaron Norris!" I shouted with confidence. "That's my boy. Know your name. Say it with belief and someday, you'll hear them signing it from the stands!" he shouted.
That was our ritual. Everyday after training he would make me shout my name. My dad wanted me to have a long and successful career. Kevin Norris, 40 year old roofing service manager who gre up right here in Mintlaw. He was pretty good at what he did, although in his youth he played semi-professiona for Fraserburgh and was their top goal-scorer in the 2011/2012 season. He married my mother, Pamela, when they were both 22 and they had 6 kids together. My father knew I wanted to play football. He was now living his dreams through me.
