He should probably be at home right now, probably getting rest. As the sun is starting to dip below the horizon, Jamie closes his eyes. He can hear the cheers. He can hear the laughter, the boos, the shouts, the elation. He can hear disappointment, too. When the ball hits off the post. When the referee makes a shit call against Richmond. It's all so beautiful, the game that they play. It brings him emotions that he's never felt elsewhere. He's never felt so himself the way he feels when he's on a pitch. His teammates nearby. His coaches by the bench. His friends and family in the stands. He's the luckiest boy in the world, he thinks. Richmond 'til he dies.
"I've heard it once or twice," he replies with a fond grin, looking over at her. It usually came from his mum, but that's beside the point. He knows she's right - he's seen kids on Richmond Green wearing his shirts, or shirts in Richmond blue, Richmond red, Richmond yellow, the way Jamie had his Chelsea blue shirt growing up because he could never afford the proper Adidas shirt. They'd be better off pretending to be Sam, or Dani, or Isaac, in Jamie's mind, but he's honoured that they've chosen him to look up to, the way Jamie had chosen Roy. He wonders if there's another little boy in Manchester supporting a southern team the way Jamie had twenty years ago. He hopes there is.
"Oh - erm, yeah. Yeah, I'd love that," he answers honestly. He knows that Phoebe attends Richmond Primary, but he doubts he could just show up and talk to the kids without any planning beforehand. "I've gotta talk t'Keeley about settin' something up like that. I do help out with camps in the summer, up in Manchester, though. One of the first things I do after England duty in the off-season." It's still mad to him, the Jamie Tartt Football Camp - come as you are, boots and kits provided. Helping kids like himself, like Yashvi, get into football. Get opportunities with the City and United Academies. He hopes he's changed some lives that way. "I love kids. Seriously - I do. They're just, like, little people with little baby fingers - you seen their boots before?" He holds his hands up, palms facing each other, and laughs. "Fucking tiny, they are."
