Date: Sun, 25 Mar 2001 18:39:05 -0800 (PST)
From: Opengoal <opengoal@excite.com>
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/