Hitchin was a small town located north of London, with a population of only just over 30,000, making it a very quaint and traditional town in England.
Following the country road north from the town entrance, one could see a large supermarket chain called Sainsbury's by the roadside. It was the only large supermarket in the town, so business was always exceptionally good.
At 8:00 AM, the supermarket doors opened, and the staff, who had been preparing inside, stood in their respective areas wearing neat uniforms, awaiting the arrival of custors.
The supermarket floor manager was a middle-aged man in his forties, holding a roll call book and patrolling the store.
As he passed by, the service staff greeted him with looks of awe, simply because the pen in his hand determined their wages for the day.
The middle-aged man kept a straight face throughout, showing no expression.
When he arrived at the frozen food section, he suddenly stopped.
"Joel!" the middle-aged man called out.
A young man imdiately ran out from the side, looked around, and upon realizing that soone was missing from his area of responsibility, quickly hurried over and whispered, "He went to play in the Sunday League yesterday, played the full match, and he might be on his way now."
The Sunday League was a type of amateur regional league that held matches exclusively on Sundays, and they were found everywhere throughout England.
The middle-aged man nodded. "Did he win or lose?"
"Won, 5-0, and he even knocked the opposing striker out of the ga!" Joel said with a chuckle.
Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man nodded happily. "Did he wear the jersey with our supermarket's logo?"
"Of course, I reminded him!"
The middle-aged man nodded repeatedly and checked off a na with the pen in his roll call book. Seeing this, Joel breathed a sigh of relief.
"When he arrives for his shift, give this to him!" Before leaving, the middle-aged man seed to rember sothing, rummaged in his pocket for a while, and pulled out a slip of paper with a phone number written on it.
"Whose number is it?" Joel asked.
"I don't know. I heard it's a football club looking for Dave. Just give it to him." Having said that, the middle-aged man left to continue his roll call elsewhere.
Joel held the note, carefully examined the string of numbers, folded it with great care, and placed it into the inner pocket of his waterproof uniform.
About an hour later, a young British man ran in from outside. As he entered the store, he snuck a glance around. A female colleague at the checkout counter, despite being busy, gave him a "safe" signal, and only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
The young man was very tall, at least 1.90 ters, and well built, yet he did not look cumberso at all. He walked with great vigor, but his face wore a sunny smile. He seed to have a good relationship with the others in the store, as people kept greeting him along the way.
"Dave, what's going on with you? What ti is it?" Joel ca out of the freezer carrying a piece of cargo and complained imdiately upon seeing his companion changing his shoes.
"What? Did the manager scold you?" Dave asked with a smile.
Joel shook his head. "Not really, but he ca by for roll call earlier."
Upon hearing this, Dave's heart imdiately jumped into his throat.
Seeing him like this, Joel was pleased that his prank had succeeded. "But as soon as he heard you wore the jersey with the store's logo to play football, he let you off."
"Haha, that's right. I should talk to him about a sponsorship fee another day!" Dave put on his shoes and leapt up. His jumping ability was quite good.
"Co, co, dear brother Joel, let handle this heavy work. You go take a rest!"
After saying this, Dave took the frozen goods from Joel's hands with one hand. The heavy cargo that had Joel gasping for breath beca very light in Dave's hands.
"You really are a frighteningly strong monster!" Joel said with a sigh.
As soon as Dave started his shift, he was busy in the frozen food section. The items that Joel had been struggling to organize for a long ti were sorted out by Dave in no ti.
"Oh, right, Dave, the manager told earlier that soone ca looking for you yesterday." Joel suddenly rembered and fished out the note from his pocket.
"Really? How co I didn't know?" Dave looked at him with an expression that said, "Don't try to trick ."
Joel shook the note in his hand. "You left early yesterday. He ca around 4:00 PM, and at that ti you should have been preparing to play football. Can you be in two places at once?"
Dave shrugged. "Then tell , why was he looking for ?"
"He only said he represented a football club and just left a phone number, asking you to contact him if you're interested."
Upon hearing this, Dave was stunned. After a mont, he walked over and snatched the note from Joel's hand.
"Dave, could it be a team from London?" Joel was clearly very familiar with Dave and knew that Dave's wish was to beco a professional football player.
"Probably not. The teams there look down on us. Rember the team from London we t in the Sunday League last ti? They beat us, but they deliberately made fools of us. I don't like teams from there!" Dave still looked indignant at the re thought of it.
"Then maybe it's a team from sowhere else. You should give them a call back. At least they ca here in person, so they should be sowhat sincere!" Joel advised from the side.
Dave stared at the note for a while, finally put it back into his pocket without committing, and said, "Let's work first. We'll talk after the shift!"
At the Sainsbury's supermarket, Dave and Joel were responsible for the frozen food sales. The work was simple: these frozen items were generally very heavy, and moving them in and out required strength.
Joel was the type of person who was great at accounting, but not very good at manual labor. Dave, on the other hand, was strong and sturdy, working with great efficiency. He always helped do Joel's share of the work, letting the latter focus on weighing items at the front counter.
Business in the supermarket was not very good in the morning. The first peak period usually did not arrive until near noon. All the supermarket staff could only go to eat in batches after this busy peak period was over.
Just as usual, Joel went to eat first, then ca back to relieve Dave.
"Hey, Dave, rember to make that call!" Joel reminded him before Dave left.
Dave nodded and walked out of the supermarket with his head down.
There was a phone booth near the supermarket entrance. Dave had both hands in his pockets. In the left was the note with the phone number, and in the right was a coin.
Hesitant, Dave walked very slowly, but eventually, he arrived in front of the phone booth.
Taking a deep breath, Dave took out the coin, inserted it into the phone, and dialed the number on the note.
"Hello, this is Ethan. Who is this?" A magnetic male voice ca from the phone.
"Hello, I... I am Dave Kitson," Dave said, and as if afraid the other party would not rember who he was, he specifically added, "An employee at the Sainsbury's supermarket in Hitchin."
"Oh, hello, Dave!" Ethan on the other end of the line imdiately rembered. "I couldn't find you yesterday. They said you went away to play football. I was planning to co look for you again in the next few days if you didn't call !"
"Thank you. I heard you are a scout for a football club, is that right?" Dave asked with a trembling voice, sounding very excited.
"I suppose so. I represent New Manchester United. Have you heard of our team? A new team from Manchester!" Ethan asked.
Dave thought for a mont. "Is that the new team ford by Manchester United fans?"
"Yes, we participated in the North West Counties League Division Two last year and won the double. This year, we were promoted to the National League by the FA. I would like to ask if you are interested in coming to play for our team."
Dave hesitated. Last year, the amateur team Hitchin Town from the town of Hitchin had invited him, but he had rejected them because they were also a low-level regional league team. He felt that joining such a team was not as good as continuing as he was, since he had a good job and could also play football with friends every Sunday.
But if he joined an amateur team, how much money could he earn on a part-ti contract? He would have to attend training, which would definitely make him lose his supermarket job.
But now the situation was obviously different. This was a team in the National League, the fifth tier of the English football league system.
"May I ask, is your side a professional team?" Dave asked again.
Ethan smiled. "It was semi-professional last year, but this year it will beco a professional team. I think if you have any further questions, perhaps you can co to Manchester to see for yourself. Our team will cover the expenses, so you can have a more direct understanding of our team. If you are satisfied, we can discuss the contract on the spot."
Dave was obviously persuaded by Ethan's words. After considering it for a while, he agreed on a ti with Ethan and then hung up the phone.
After hanging up, Dave stood in the phone booth, staring blankly at the note in his hand for a long ti, unable to believe that a professional club had actually co looking for him.
"Am I dreaming?" Dave muttered to himself.
Ethan, on the other end of the line, hung up the phone and revealed a happy smile, because with this very phone call, half of the powerful centre-forward who would later be favored by Capello when he coached England was already part of New Manchester United.
As for the upcoming negotiations, Ethan was confident he could keep him in Manchester, because the ambition of New Manchester United would make all players who aspired to develop in football feel excited.
Pulling himself together, Ethan turned and walked back to the Italian restaurant he had just co out of.
Although he was still in London yesterday evening, he had now arrived at this small town on the outskirts of Ro, Italy, and at the sa ti, he had found the person he wanted to find.
"I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting, Alberto!" Ethan apologized to his guest with a smile.
(To be continued.)
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