Date: Sun, 25 Mar 2001 18:39:05 -0800 (PST) From: Opengoal Subject: 'Road to World Cup' {Opengoal} (Celeb) [1/?] Road to World Cup (Formerly titled "England Squad, A New Hope") Chapter 1 Obligatory Warning: Do not read if you are likely to be offended by description of gay sex, or if it is illegal for you to do so. This story is purely fictional and does not imply anything about the sexual orientation of the English football (soccer) players depicted. I do not have any insider information about the English national team, so if there're some hilarious departures from reality somewhere, just remember this is fiction & get on with it, ok? (Laugh afterwards) One more thing: English is not my mother tongue, so, erm, sorry for the mistakes I may have made. Opengoal opengoal@excite.com ---------------------------------------- Road to World Cup (Formerly titled "England Squad, A New Hope") A Boy in a Men's World 1.1 It was the first time Joe Cole has been included in the full England Squad. Despite his tender age of 18, the call-up didn't come as a shock to anyone, least of all the boy wonder himself. He's not big- headed or anything. Far from it. But Joe had been earmarked for greatness even before he broke his voice. & the England manager even had him training with the senior side several times before. So the actual call-up seemed to be only a matter of time. Joe himself also thought this time he would not be that much in awe of the occasion. But still, he gasped as he stood before England's training camp at Bisham Abbey. He was afraid the others would notice the butterflies in his stomach. He's trying to hide it, but if you looked closely enough, you'd still sense a hint of nervousness. A year ago, he was just an apprentice, but now... He's one of the big boys now. His nervousness made him look even more like a prepubescent autograph- hunter rather than a man about to take on Germany. "Boyish" is not an appropriate word to describe him, for he IS still just a boy to almost everybody. At just 5'8" and 150 pounds, he's small even when he's among ordinary people. On the pitch, he looks even smaller, as he weaves his way between the big, strong men. He also seems to always wear shirts far too big for him, which makes him look even more like a 10-year-old. As he seldom tucks his shirt in, it often looks as if he were not wearing anything underneath... He hasn't got many female admirers. Maybe it's because most girls think of him as a kid brother. He considers himself lucky that he's been spared that kind of bother. However, the people he does attract, most of them older men, are much more difficult to deal with. Memories of the previous training sessions with the senior side came back to him, & he shuddered with the thought of Alan Shearer. Maybe that's where his nervousness really came from. He's more than glad that Shearer had retired from international football. He's got nothing to fear now. & he's here, on equal footing like, no longer just a kid hanging around. & just maybe he'd get close (even if just a little closer) to the men he fancied. Oh, yes, he fancies men. He also fancies girls, but lads just trump them in the football department. & football IS his life, erm, well, at least half of his life. Blessed with some of Britain's hottest men, the football world is ironically also homophobic. Joe doesn't really know who Justin Fashanu was, but he knows enough not to let anyone suspect that he's anything but straight. Besides, it's almost impossible to get away from the prying eyes of journalists. He's already got enough media attention as a prodigy. He didn't want any more bother. What he can't deny was: He was a young boy and he was among hot, athletic men. Though he can't act on it, he can still fantasise. 1.2 The training itself was one of the things Joe liked most. He could be with all the lads as naturally as he wanted, and show off himself in the best possible way. Playing football takes his mind off his raging hormones. He can be simply "one of the lads", while checking out the hot, strong thighs on display. At the same time, he can hold the gaze of everybody around with his close control of the ball, & mesmerise them with the little twists and turns which only his lithe, flexible body allows. He just loves their eyes all over his body, searching for subtle hints on what he's going to do next. They'd be hypnotised into a trance, forgetting their matter at hand just to watch him and admire him. Not just boys fall under his spell, but also seasoned footballers, the England manager included. Today's training had been going very well. They breezed through the jogging and had fun in the small group games. Macca (aka Steve McManaman) and the Liverpool lads, in particular, kept the banter going. In build and in age, Macca and Joe would have been quite a mismatch. Macca, 28 years of age, was almost ten years older than Joe. Nevertheless, Macca's so babyfaced that the age gap between them never showed. 6' tall but only 145 pounds in weight, Macca was much taller than Joe (5'8") but he's so thin that he actually weighs less. But Joe loved Macca's tall, lanky figure and how Macca was proud of his own body. Actually, Joe only started to have a crush on Macca when he first trained with the national side. Macca was one of the senior players who really tried to make Joe feel welcomed, although they were in direct competition for a place in the team. Of course, Joe had not been blind to the attractiveness of Macca's flowing golden locks or his boyish good looks. But it was Macca's easy manner & his perpetual smile that really did it. Sometimes the smile alone could cheer him up from the frustration of being treated as a kid all the time. Of course, Macca wouldn't know the sexual frustration he then caused in Joe. When Joe was just training with the senior side, it was rather easy for him to find time to be alone in the hotel room when the others slipped to the bar. He could lie on the bed and let his fantasy run loose. In his head, he would make Macca lie down and then run his hand through Macca's cherry-blonde hair. Macca would tell him how much he fancied him, and kiss him softly. Macca would caress him so tenderly as if he were afraid that his large hands would break him. Joe would have to tell Macca to go further & guide his hands down where it's aching for him & couldn't wait any longer. (He's a boy. He's entitled to be impatient!) Joe's hand would slip down into his own pants, & pretended it's Macca's hand to free his six-inched cock from its confines. He could usually jerk off undisturbed for as long as he wanted. More often than not, his roommate wouldn't be back long after he'd finished. The next day he'd yearn for Macca's attention even more. Apart from the crush, there's a hidden desire, which was just like what a little boy felt when waiting for his naughty secret to be found out. Now, Joe was officially one of the squad. Hiding in the hotel room wouldn't be very appropriate behaviour. He knew he'd have fewer chances to release his tension. But his desire for Macca's attention remained. & what better chance to win his attention than in six-a-sides? With minimal effort, Joe glided past Scholes. Then it's Gary Neville in front of him. Joe had already roasted Gary several times that day, & he intended to do that again. He teased Gary a few times with his clever little dummies, before easing past him. Joe almost didn't want to give the ball to his teammates, one of whom was in a marvellous position to score. Joe could feel all eyes on him, focussing admiration, frustration and envy all on him. He could also sense some of them did not just lust for his silky skills. He did not want this to end, but reason took over and he passed the ball. An incisive pass it was. But it didn't matter anymore. For Beckham had scythed him down with a viciously late tackle. Joe had been too absorbed in his own play to notice Beckham coming. He was caught badly & fell flat on the ground. Had Rio (Joe's club teammate) been in the same six-a-side match, he might have tried to fend for Joe. Joe heard some muttering, & thought that would be it, he'd better get up & get on with it. Then he heard Macca shouting at Beckham. Did he hear it correctly? Macca telling Beckham off because of him? Joe quickly got up and told Macca he's alright. The last thing Joe wanted was for Macca to get into any trouble for him. He knew he might be reading too much into this but he didn't want to take any chances. "You're really alright?" Macca asked him. Joe was so surprised that he actually acted like normal. He just replied like it was nothing. Macca seemed to want to take a look at his shin, but the physio got there first. Macca then just muttered some warnings to Beckham. The manager also chimed in a bit. Soon enough play resumed. Joe also got back into it not long afterwards. 1.3 Joe hated this training session to end, not just because he loved training, but also because he dreaded the dressing room. For there was nothing to divert his mind from Macca. Well, nothing except the naked athletic bodies around. & that was worse. He replayed those several minutes in his head. There seemed to have been something. But he could not find anything from his glances to Macca which could confirm it. Macca was still joking and playing around with the Liverpool lads as usual. Part of Joe was glad about that, because Macca's banter gave Joe an excuse to look at him in the dressing room. There're no secrets in the dressing room, as far as bodies are concerned. Everybody knows how everybody is hung. Joe, of course, would not miss the chance to check out Macca. But perhaps exactly because he's the one Joe really fancied, Joe dared not linger too long on him. Just long enough to know that Macca had a long, uncut cock which fits perfectly with his tall and slender frame. Most of the time, Joe would savour the sight of the other hunks present. Michael Owen, was of course, the most attractive one, with his boyish good looks, big eyes and strawberry lips. You wouldn't have guessed that he'd have such broad shoulders and well-defined muscles under his shirt. Barely two years older than Joe, he could have been the boy of Joe's dreams, if only he were not so laid-back and serious all the time. Beckham was another looker. Despite the way he behaved, Joe couldn't help stealing a glance at him. He had been the national heartthrob, & he held his status even after restyling himself as a family man (albeit a stylish, sexy one at that) and shaving off his crop. Before adopting the ill-matched skinhead, Beckham looked like he had come straight out of some boyband. Although his new tougher image didn't work all that well, he still knew how to pose. & he's got a smile to die for, especially with a quick flash of those cute dimples. & there were others to behold too: 19-year-old Gareth Barry, another precocious youngster in the squad besides Joe. He was six feet tall, and 174 pounds of solid but not outrageous muscles, coupled with an angelic face. Graeme le Saux, with those cute puppy eyes, an incredibly youthful face that combined intelligence (!) with sentimentality. Plus of course, the darkly handsome giant goalkeeper, David James. Joe's clubmate, Rio, was not bad, either. They'd spent so much time together at the club that Joe could remember exactly how Rio's tall, lean body, smooth light brown skin, and handsome features looked like. But perhaps because Joe had always looked up to Rio as a brother, Joe would never jerk off thinking about him. So, you see it's quite a monumental task to shower and change without getting caught looking with too much interest. Usually, Joe would rather spend as short time as possible in the showers and change quickly afterwards. He prefered to linger around by chatting with the (semi-)naked men around him. Joe was hurrying through showering when he heard Macca, Fowler and Carragher chasing each other in the shower area. Joe didn't dare to watch now. But he could picture what the scene looked like. & he could also hear them coming. Before Joe turned his head, partly out of curiosity, partly fear of imminent danger, Macca had come crashing on him. "Look what you have done now!" Macca yelled to the other two lads and told them to get back to showering. He then apologised profusely in such a quiet voice that only the two of them could hear clearly. But he punctuated his apologies with jokes, something maybe only he'd do. Their laughters were audible enough though, which in a way legimitised their smalltalk. They broke off their talk soon, perhaps a bit too soon for Joe. But Joe knew any amount of time would have been too soon. Joe then finished cleaning himself as quickly as he could. In fact, he only dared to think about what that must have meant when he was fully dressed again. Brash Macca was laughing with the lads again, if he ever stopped. Now he turned Joe's way and spoke to both Rio and him. He was inviting them to drinks afterwards. "There's alcopops & all, so really, you can come too." Joe knew Macca obviously meant him. He blushed, and he couldn't think of a reason to refuse. Not that he wanted to, either. to be continued.... Opengoal opengoal@excite.com http://www.envy.nu/opengoal/england/