Feddi To Old Trafford

EPISODE 1

Prologue:

FEDDI TO OLD TRAFFORD
The Unity Games Begin(1)

By

Daniel D-Virox Nwaike(Manchester United FC)
Dike Samson Nwayo(Real Madrid CF)

April 29, 2008                                   
Theater of Dreams
2nd leg, EUFA Champions League Semi-final
Manchester United FC Vs Real Madrid CF

A deafening din of excited fans were watching  this clash of titans. The 75,000 capacity Theater of Dreams was filled to the brim. Millions more at home were glued to their televisions.

It was the 68th minute and the score was 2-2 in our favour. I was Real Madrid’s striker and had scored 2 well taken goals in the first half. But by the 68th minute, Manchester United had restored parity through an excellent free kick and a goal-mouth scramble from a corner.
However, we had a slight advantage and would go through if the score remained the same, since we had 2 away goals, and they had none, the first leg at Santiago Benabeau having ended goalless. But we did not bank on that.

With the aggregate score 2 apiece, It was a tense game as both teams fought to win.Then came a corner in the 70th minute, but the Manchester United Goalkeeper was down in agony. Ricardo, our left forward, had curled an R2 shot into the top corner, and their keeper, a giant Swede, had leapt at it willy-nilly, breaking his wrist on the crossbar, but keeping the ball out. The medics attended to him but he could not continue.

His replacement came and it was a pleasant change. It was Daniel Nwaike, my friend and international team mate. He had been my small-boy and school-son at Federal Government College Wazobia. This was his first game for Manchester United in the Champions League, and it had come in a very important game. I was happy for him, but I  was already looking forward to putting one past him.

On, Daniel turned his customary ultra-concentration full-blast, just as he did in that college game 10 years ago. No words are said, but before he got in goal, we quickly exchanged backslaps in the box, knowing we would have time to catch up after.
At 24, he had done it. Being a first team goalkeeper for Manchester United is no small feat and to do it at that age was phenomenal. I was looking forward to seeing him after the match, which I expected we would win.

So I came back to the present and shrugged thoughts of after away and concentrated, looking for soft spots in their defense to get into for Ricardo’s kick. But one of their big center-backs trailed my movements, and I knew I would have to do it the hard way if the ball fell for me. But then, Daniel has this knack for turning a  crucial game on it’s head.

Ricardo floated the ball nicely towards the back post. There were scrambles and scuffles in the box but I evaded my marker and darted towards the ball. I connected solidly with a header, directing the ball towards the far side of the keeper. But Daniel was having none of it. I heard the crowd gasp as he stretched himself full length to the right and pushed the ball away with the tip of his fingers.It was another corner.

The roar from the audience for the strike and save was gratifying, and we both drank it in. Intoxicated by the worship, we were raring for more. It's the way of footballers. The cheer of the crowd is our tonic.Daniel bellowed at his defense to track me better, and I flashed him a smile which he didn't return. He’s all business now, just like old times, just that this time, we are opponents.

We had sniffed blood, and had a few more bodies in the box now. Which became a schoolboy mistake, given the quality of United. On the second corner, Daniel caught it safely, and that was when things fell apart. It’s Dejavu: a repeat of the match against Benue house in college when Daniel assisted my goal. Only this time, it was Wesley, their rapid right wing forward being assisted. But the execution was exactly the same.

You see, apart from being an excellent shot-stopper, Daniel is blessed with excellent technique and a strong right arm. He can throw and kick the ball with pinpoint accuracy. And that’s what he did for Wesley. Immediately Daniel caught that cross from the corner, he let fly one of his mighty throws, and we were caught in a lightening counterattack.

We had been employing a full press , hoping to get a goal and kill the contest. We were always high up the pitch, choking and robbing them of possession no doubt, but leaving some vulnerable spaces behind. And bringing more people into the box for that corner, leaving our defence thin, was a mistake. This defensive lapse was what Wesley exploited.

Very careful to stay on the shoulder of the last defender, he streaked off when the ball was released by Daniel, connecting with, and bringing it under control nicely. He was on-side. Sighting the chasing pack, he hit the ball forward and used his tremendous pace to outstrip them, eating up the space. A moment later, he's in the box and is one-on-one with the keeper.

The keeper tried to put as much pressure as he could by not committing sooner, but that doesn't help. Wesley calmly chose his spot and rifled a shot into the far left corner, leaving our goalkeeper helpless on the green.

A deafening roar from Manchester United fans enveloped the stadium as their players streaked off in wild celebration. When the game resumed, United fans were in song for their heroes.Huff and puff, we couldn’t break down their defense, and the game ended in victory for them. Manchester United were through to the Champions league final, and Real Madrid was out.

Needless to say, I wasn’t happy with the result, but I took solace that my boy was in, big time. With that kind of performance, and the first choice Keeper injured, the shirt was his'. I walked to his team, shook a few sweaty hands, hugged even sweatier jerseys, and finally wrapped an arm round my boy's neck, whisking him away to one of the corner-flags.I hit him playfully on the side, producing a chuckle. “Smallboy, give me your shirt joor.”

He grinned as I removed mine, removing his' at the same time. We exchanged hugs and hung the shirts on our shoulders. Even aside, his team mates came to him. Daniel exchanged high-fives and hugs with them while I got casual shakes. Manchester fans and players were going wild in the stadium. The paparazzi were clicking away on their cameras.

My teammates had done their obligatory round of greetings and were moving off the field to the dressing room. Some of them threw quizical looks at my fraternising with the 'enemy' so. But that didn't stop me going down history lane with Daniel“Bro, did that assist remind you of something?” Daniel asked, grinning and hitting my abs.“Of course big head. I gave you that game, remember?”

I laughed. “That move was the same as that Saturday's game of 1998 between our house and Benue.” I returned the hit.

“You know, that game set me on the path to where I am today. I hope this one brings great things too,” Daniel responded, extending an arm.
We locked arms  as is the tradition of Warriors.“It will. I have no doubt about that.” I disentangled my fingers, hand and arm from the Warrior-shake.

I could see he was remembering more than that game. I was also remembering a whole lot more. I and Daniel, we have quite some history.Which was why I was not surprised when he chatted me up on Skype that night, suggesting we employ a ghost writer to pen a memoir of our shared experiences at FGC Wazobia.

Two weeks later, we employed a Nigerian ghost writer to ink the experiences you find in this book. Through occasional social visits, online correspondences, and our writer's collaboration, we exchanged and shared Feddi experiences, finally publishing it as 'Feddi to Old Trafford'. Which is a befitting title because it's Daniel's story more than mine. And when you consider that he continued writing with others who were key players in his meteoric rise, then you would see I am not far from the truth when I say this is his story more than mine.