My footballing story begins on July 16th, 1985 in a hospital in Windsor, England.

From the day I was born, I had football in my blood. I would later find out the many ways in which this fact was both good and bad.

My parents are English, support Manchester United, and have played and coached for most of my life. When I was 2-years-old, we moved to Portland, Oregon and thereafter Houston, Texas. I grew up playing with the likes of Arturo Alvarez and Stuart Holden. Around the time I was 13, I quit playing football to pursue other sports. But, this lasted only around one year and I was back to playing the game in no time.

I played club and high school soccer until the point that I was offered a full scholarship to attend Centenary University in Shreveport, Louisiana. At the time, it was a tiny, private, liberal arts school, but it was free and it made sense. I spent a year there, during which we played Southern Methodist University and lost 6-1. I played fairly well and after the season ended I spoke to Schellas Hyndman and transferred to SMU. I should add that I didn’t receive any scholarship money there, so I’m not sure they expected very much from me. Anyway, the following season I scored some goals and did well enough to get some interest from some MLS teams.

The summer after my sophomore year, I left to train with some clubs in England. I ended up playing in some games I shouldn’t have and the NCAA wasn’t too happy about it upon my return stateside. I was ruled ineligible to play anymore college football and was essentially forced into professional soccer, if I wanted to continue my career.

The Kansas City Wizards (now Sporting KC) and FC Dallas were both interested and I preferred to be in Dallas in order to finish my history degree. Due to numerous rules, I could not enter the draft. I was classed as a discovery signing and the right to sign a discovery goes to the team who finished lower the previous season, which was KC. I flew to Kansas City and spent a month there trying to leave. When the time was right, FC Dallas had already used up most of there money and spots, so I was forced to settle for a 1-year contact. I never played for the first team, grew tired of playing for money, and was released at the end of my contract. I would have quit anyway—that just made it worse.

Life without soccer began again after that season. I finished my degree, but a regular day job wasn’t for me. I spent 6 months floundering around Houston before I made the decision to move to Australia. I had been there previously and loved the place. I had saved some money up, booked my flight and landed in Cairns, Australia not knowing a soul or what I was going to do. I felt reinvigorated, however, and started running to get into some shape. On one occasion, I noticed a few guys were kicking a ball around on the beach and I joined in the fun.

Now, I’m not kidding—this is exactly how the following events occurred.

The four guys played on a local Sunday team in the area and asked me to come to training. I thought to myself, “Why not?” and agreed to attend. That first training session proved to be the most memorable of my life.

I was in love with football again.

Around this time, I also met the other love of my life. We are now engaged and she is 5-months pregnant with our little one. We had been seeing each other for about a month when she moved to Sydney and I decided to follow. Football in Sydney is the second-tier of the Australian game and pays fairly decent money. It is probably on par with the USL in the States.

One of the guys that I had met in Cairns knew someone at a Portuguese club called Fraser Park FC. They were in the “3rd” division. I decided to go along for a session and they signed me on the spot. I played a season with them and won the league’s Player of the Year award. This earned me a move to the “2nd” division with a Greek club called Sydney Olympic FC. In my first six games, I scored 8 goals and then signed a 1-year deal with Gold Coast United in the A-league. My fiancé and I soon moved up to sunny beaches and professional football.

I could not believe my luck. I quit football at the age of 21 and was playing professionally again at the age of 26.

But, not so fast.

Three months into my contract, the club decided they wanted to sign a Dutch striker. As teams are only allowed five foreigners, one of us had to be let go. Guess who? I was paid-out and told I was no longer needed.

Luckily, my previous club back in Sydney were still playing and I finished the season with them. We won the league and the finals series. After the final, my agent had me on a flight to trial for the Wellington Phoenix in New Zealand. One of the club’s players had broken his arm and they needed some short-term cover for two months. I trialed for a day and they signed me on the spot. I thought to myself, “Here we go!”.

In Australia, I had been playing at forward and scoring goals galore. The first game I dressed for in New Zealand, the coach was short on defensive midfielders and threw me in. I did well, so I played the rest of season there.

But, things were a bit more complicated than that. I signed a total of five contracts during the season, renewing every time the last one was up, never knowing if that was it. My fiancé was still in Australia so it was a highly stressful time. At the end of the season, I signed a new deal for the current campaign.

So, in summary, I’ve been involved with football most of my life. It has taken me to places I never would have gone and allowed me to meet people I never would have met. No matter what I do, I can’t escape it—even if I want to. Trust me, I have tried.

Football gives you highs and lows on an unimaginable scale. In three years, I’ve gone from kicking the ball around for fun on a beach to marking the great Alessandro Del Piero. I want to share my stories with people and give some real insight into the life of a professional footballer. I won’t hold back. I make no apologies for my honesty. People need to know its not all fun and games.

Until next time…