A 64-year-old Kane attempts to reclaim goalscoring record
A big part of being a football fan is talking about the past. What’s better than sitting down with a pint as you recall historic moments, players and teams with your mates? These memories bring us feelings of euphoria, nostalgia and even heartbreak. But what if we could see into the future of football? In Fast-Forward Football we bring you exactly that; the most iconic stories yet to come.
It’s the year 2058, and a weathered 64-year-old Harry Kane sits in a rocking chair, swaying back and forth. He stares longingly at the log fire roaring across the room as he strokes one of his many Premier League Golden Boots. His body aches from practice earlier that day, but he knows he can’t quit. Not until he achieves his life-long goal of becoming the Premier Leagues all-time top goal scorer. He had already broken the record once before back in the 2021/22 season. That was the season Kane lead Tottenham to their 24th FA Cup semifinal.
“It was mine,” he mutters under his breath while slamming his clutched fist on the arm of the chair. “Now it’s gone. It’s all gone because of her.”
It was during the historic 2044/45 Premier League season when Makka Salah stole his title. Makka, daughter of Mohammed Salah, was the first female to break through the gender barrier and play in a professional mans’ league. Her grace on the field reminded Kane of a gazelle skipping through the African savanna, but he would never admit that to anyone. He wouldn’t stand for it. He was a lion, and lions eat gazelles.
The following season, Kane prepared himself for the comeback by striking a football against the wall of his house. It was at this point he wished for a child of his own to play with, but there was no time for children back then. Goals were all that mattered to him in the past. They still do, really.
On the eve of the 2047 summer transfer deadline day, Harry announced his return to football. He was convinced clubs would be fighting to earn his signature, but there was only one club he wanted to join… his beloved Spurs.
Kane sat in shock when the clock struck midnight on August 31st. Nobody had signed him. Nobody had even reached out. He was crushed but determined to persevere. A lengthy conversation with the FA Chairman Harry Redknapp sorted it out. Nobody would be mean to the Harrys and get away with it.
In January a reluctant Tottenham manager, Christian Eriksen, signed Kane to a lifetime contract. There was no salary involved. Harry didn’t want money, he only wanted goals. Only 54 goals until he could reclaim his precious. Only 54 goals until he could call himself King Kane once again. In his second debut season, Kane managed to bag himself two goals from the penalty spot after coming on as a late sub.
In the 10 years that followed, Kane struggled like an insect caught in a spider web to score 14 more, but he wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t give up. It was programmed into his brain; his soul.
As he readjusted his position in the rocking chair a sharp pain shot up his legs as if 500 pins had pierced his skin. It had happened four times this evening already. That’s what 64 years of football will do to a person’s body. He knew deep down he should go see a doctor, but what if they told him he couldn’t play anymore? He would be lost. His life would serve no purpose.
His phone buzzed from across the room but was too sore to retrieve it.
“Dele, pass me my phone,” demanded Kane.
An equally brittle Dele Alli emerged from a crate in the corner. He scampered over to the phone and picked it up before making his way over to Harry. As Kane snatched the phone from his ex-teammate, Dele looked gleeful. He still loved assisting his friend just as much as he did back in the old days.
Harry looked down at his iPhone 48, fumbling to find the notifications section. After five minutes of searching, he finally found the message.
“You’re on the bench for Saturday’s game – Gaffer” it read.
“This is my chance,” said Kane, still muttering under his breath. “Just one goal at a time.”
