Growing up in Marseilles, of course you’ll want to be a football player; everyone does.
Every day, you’ll be out on the streets, playing. As a goalkeeper, you’ll spend a lot of time watching the play. You’ll see fights break out in front of you and people shit-talking each other. As you get older, you’ll find that the trash talking, the attitudes, the fights on the field just aren’t for you. When your brother brings you out to try ultimate, something will click. It will feel right.
It’s 2010, and your hands are shaking. Your heart is pounding, and you can’t seem to swallow. You’ve just finished the GB National Team trials, and you’re looking at the email in your inbox from the Team GB leadership; you summon the courage to open it. You glaze over phrases like “high standard of play” and “decision really hard” and “unfortunately”.
You’ve always been sporty. From winters cross-country skiing & snow-shoeing to summers canoeing and playing soccer. Your weeks will be in Montreal and on the weekend, you and your parents will go out to Laurentian. You’re a mama’s boy; you’re loved, supported and cared for and you think it’s going to stay that way forever.