

I started off playing five-a-side at the local soccer school. I went to an under-six team when I was four, and the coach said ‘no no, you have to be six’. My dad told the coach he would get in trouble at home if he didn’t let me play. So the coach said ‘okay, you can have a game’. I played once and my dad said to me: ‘you have played once, we are going home’. But then the coach said ‘no no no! You need to play every week!’

We used to play lots of small-sided games. We did loads of dribbling drills, slaloming in and out of cones, and lots of shooting as well. More than anything I just remember how enjoyable it was.

Even today when I go on holiday I still see my coach from back then. But I am not in contact with the players really because it was a different place from where I was born.

I could never imagine a life without football. It’s something I have always done and have always wanted to do. When did I realise I was a good player? I suppose when I started playing. I was already playing against kids who were older than me, and then when I played against kids of my age it was easy.