Football’s coming home (Patreon)

Football’s coming home was a favourite chant at any England game especially the final of the uefa European championship in 2024 when they reached the final. Their players had struggled throughout the tournament but managed a great set of matches reaching the final and almost winning, but not quite and it didn’t come home.

At the end of the game none of us Spanish players realised how badly the England team wanted it to come home. The English team were fed up of loosing and banked upon a well known tradition in the world of football.

Before the match began I was feran tores a 24 year old left winger on the Spanish team. I was very susessful in my life and my career. I played as number 11. I played for my team and was also playing on the national team for Spain.

At the end of the game the England team were clearly gutted they had lost. However, they didn’t let their fans see that fact. Then from their sorrows, they jumped up and found their corresponding player by number and I was greeted by a sweaty white English youth I knew as Phil foden. He was also wearing a number 11 shirt. He gave me a huge hug and said thank you.

Then in unison the entire England team took off their football jerseys and handed them over to us. In gratitude we all took off our jerseys and handed them to each other. Now normally, that’s where the process stops. Players simply walk or run back through the tunnels and into the changing rooms, shirtless. It’s also not normally team wide either, usually just the captains. However, the English team all proceded to wear our tops. So naturally we did the same.

What none of us knew was how badly they wanted it to come home. The extremes they would go to. A change of shirt, a change of country, a body swap appeared to be their limits.

As we all walked back through the tunnels next to our corresponding number weird things started to happen. The first thing I noticed was the legs of the player in front of me becoming lighter. Now I’m not the most darkest of skins but I was certainly more tanned than Phil was. So because I had noticed one of the other players legs becoming pale I checked out my own arms. They were definitely a lighter complexion. Then came the stomach ache. Followed by a vast change in height, I lost at least 10cm in seconds. My hair felt like it had shortened too.

I looked over at Phil and whilst he still loooed like himself, he definitely had darker skin, was taller and had longer hair. He was also holding his stomach and appeared to be in pain! I looked around at my winning team mates and loosing opponents and they were all behaving the same. Holding their stomachs and all seemed to look different. Then once we were all inside the tunnel out of sight we fell to the floor.

Many of us were experiencing extensive pain across all of our bodies many had removed their footy boots, complaining of cramp in their toes. A couple seemed to have passed the pain but their toes had ripped through the front of their boots. Eventually the pain had subsided and I was sat opposite what should have been Phil foden.

Only it wasn’t Phil foden, it was me! Somehow the man who should be Phil foden was me. Suddenly I realised what had happened and I looked at my own body now. I was a lot smaller than I was before, my legs felt strong and if my theories were correct I was now a striker, I was Phil foden.

We were all experiencing the same, each Spanish player including our managers had swapped places, swapped bodies with our English counterparts. I acted as though I wasn’t happy about this at all, so did all the other Spanish players in their English bodies.

We all headed to the briefing room where the new Spanish manager told us what they had done. They laced their jerseys with a body swapping potion, they were making sure the English team finally felt the feeling of “football is coming home. They told us not to worry. In 2 years time, in the World Cup we would meet again and swap back for now it was irreversible.

Phil now in my body began to cry. He wouldn’t see his new born child or his other child or wife for at least 2 years. He regretted his decision. I could hardly understand his thick Spanish accent now that I was English but he made me promise to look after his family. It was never his intention to end up this way.

The Spanish manager said that we all needed to meet at the World Cup wearing the same numbered shirts otherwise we might not swap back. Two years as an English football player I was going to enjoy this, maybe I’ll find a way to ensure I won’t be at that match in two years.