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In His Shadow
In His Shadow
In His Shadow
Ebook73 pages1 hour

In His Shadow

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Relive one of the greatest rivalries in sports, from our narrators humble beginnings, rising to the top of the sports world and finally the rivalry that would not only define his career, but also shake the sports world to its core.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherM Koleosho
Release dateJun 25, 2013
ISBN9781301418831
In His Shadow
Author

M Koleosho

As a kid my imagination was molded by the likes of Enid Blyton and the heroes of Marvel and DC Comics. Fast forward to modern day, and it seems those books and characters had a stronger grip on me than I initially thought. Writing gives me the ability to delve into characters and worlds that would typically be closed off to me in my normal life. An Avid sports fan and music aficionado. I tend to gravitate towards anything that involves creativity. Of late photography seems to have piqued my interest also. I consider myself an expressionist. I write, take pictures and live for new experiences.

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    Book preview

    In His Shadow - M Koleosho

    IN HIS SHADOW

    BY

    MAYOWA KOLEOSHO

    Copyright Mayowa Koleosho 2013

    Smashwords Edition

    In his shadow I have stayed for so long. Watching him bask in success, trying so hard to catch up to him, sometimes succeeding, most times stuck in the wake of his glory. Ours will be written in the books of history, as a rivalry unlike other. Two mortals unlike any, two of the best to ever do it. Alas I think I am the only one who will see it so. History is never kind to the ‘might- have beens’, ‘second bests’ and ‘also-rans.’

    I will be forgotten. Perhaps mentioned in a highlight package or two, never truly getting the credit I deserve. Is it my fault that I am playing in the same era as he? How different would things be if I had shown up a good ten years before or after his reign?

    People think I hate him. They’ve convinced themselves that I dislike him for stealing my shine. They couldn’t be farther from the truth, and whilst we might not be the best of friends, I respect him as a competitor and most especially as a man. He is one worthy of emulation, a great teammate from all I have heard and an even better family man.

    It seems this is also another point of contention between us. People perceive him as being humble and modest, an everyday man blessed with extraordinary talent. He looks like the guy who bags your groceries at the local store. Completely harmless, wouldn’t hurt a fly. Yet when he steps on the field, time slows down and he does things even I am amazed by. You will never hear me saying he is better; I am too much of a competitor to concede such. There’s nothing he can do that I can’t, but certain factors have helped him do better, number one being the style of play his team employs. But I digress, my nemesis as the media likes to portray, shies away from the spot light. Rarely gets seen besides the field of play and is happily married with two kids. I on the other hand, I am completely opposite. I don’t mind saying I love the attention. If you grew up the way I did, wouldn’t you want to hug the spotlight too?

    Born into poverty, I fought for everything I got and most times those battles were at the dinner table, trying to make sure I got enough to get through the day. Those times were harsh, and moments like these bring back those memories vividly.

    Father wherever he is, had abandoned us after mother gave birth to me. She rarely talks about him, but once in a while, when the spirit moves her, she tells us how he was a no good bastard, but a very attractive one at that. She constantly reminds me that I have his looks but thankfully none of his character. If only she knew that I am terrified I might just be like him and that’s why I avoid settling down. Unlike him, I have all the resources to give my kids all they ever want yet at the back of my mind, I wonder will I keep searching for greener pastures. Am I doomed to keep chasing something; be it my rival or that Holy Grail I still haven’t been able to define?

    Whereas I grew up with little, God blessed me with talent. Gobs and Gobs of it. In fact when I look back, he probably used that to compensate for us lacking in so many other areas. Ironically, my first love wasn’t soccer. I never imagined I’d be making millions from it, never thought my name would be mentioned with the greats and most certainly never thought it’d be the path that would lead my family and I out of poverty.

    It was simply a hobby that the local kids took upon themselves because toys were too expensive and most of us didn’t have television sets in our houses. We didn’t need expensive equipment, bare feet, a round ball or anything spherical for that matter was good enough. Goal posts were made of literally anything we had. Shoes, sticks, stones and what have you.

    We played with no expectations, the game was pure. No ulterior motives, no agents, no fans, no media, no shoe companies and all those factors that add another dimension to what the global game is right now.

    I don’t recall being the best player in those games. I was a very frail kid that got pushed around a lot. Once in a while I’d do something that made the other kids look like their feet were stuck in mud, but I never stringed those type of plays together for a long period of time. If you asked anyone back then if they thought I’d end up playing professional football, they would think said person was out of their mind.

    Things started to change towards my last two years of high school. That was when I had my growth spurt and went from a skinny short kid to a skinny tall kid. Yes I remained frail, but I was no longer the shortest kid in class. Do you know how weird it is to tower over the same people that used to look down upon you? It wasn’t just my height that changed; my body seemed to have picked up on it too. I was faster on the playground, more alert. I reacted quicker than all those around me, which slowed down the games for me. Soon I became unstoppable on the playground and my popularity started to grow.

    The coach of our high school team convinced me to join them and said I could play any position I wanted. This was right about the time when Maradona was weaving and probing defenses like they were made out of holes. That man was a god to me. The things he could do on a football field where unheard of, and no matter how much I tried, I felt I wasn’t good enough.

    Now that doesn’t mean emulating him didn’t improve my game. It did a lot for me, and even up till now, some comment on how much my game is a lot like his. It was a no brainer asking to play in attack. I pictured myself scoring all the important

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