I just finished my work out session at my regular gym in the neighborhood where I grew up. I like to use that gym when I’m off season. It’s been around for donkey years. I started working out here in secondary school when my biceps were like potatoes! My football mates ask why I don’t go to posh gyms. I guess I like coming back to my roots. It keeps me grounded…. Mr Nelson still runs the gym. He used to be built like an oak Tree but he’s old now. Still fit though, bless him.
The lads here enjoy having me around too and they talk to me like their mate, like I’m still Micky from the blocked . Not Micky West, the footballer. Even at that there are usually the occasional crazy fans who just come here just because they’d get the chance to see me… I hate all the invasion of privacy that celebrity status bring but hey, I’ve got used to it, somehow. .. I’m also glad my presence has brought back life to the almost dying gym and business back for Mr Nelson. I’m also glad I’ve been able to help him upgrade the gym….
Anyways, I finished training and went to the locker room. I reached for my phone expecting to see missed calls from Jason. I’d been ringing him all day and he hadn’t answered….